I See You

To the man I was sitting next to at church today...I see your tears. I see you subtly trying to wipe them away. I am sorry for your pain. I don't know you or what you are going through but I am standing next to you and I am feeling your pain. If I were more extroverted, I would have touched your back - but stranger touching isn't really my thing. So, instead, I prayed for you and hoped that you could feel the love I was sending your way. I hope you have people around you who can lighten your load.

I can't believe we are still in January. So much has happened and it is STILL the same month. I can't say I am a huge fan so far but I have BIG hopes for February. We have had too many snow days to count, a new school calendar developed to recover those days, a new president, millions of women and those that believe in and support them get together and march...and these are just the well publicized events. Privately, I know people who have died, lost loved ones, changed jobs and are experiencing different hardships. The hospital has been at capacity for weeks. It's been a month full of joy, excitement and pain already.

The few people in my life that have started off 2017 with more pain than seems fair are often on my mind...because this is what I was reminded of as the gentleman cried next to me in church today... pain that can be shared is sometimes just the tiniest bit easier. In my experience, when I have someone walk alongside me, even just to hold my hand because the right words are often hard, it helps to not feel so alone. Pain and grief can be soooooo lonely. For me, I have found it more bearable if I have someone willing to carry part of my load even if part of my journey means taking it back to see it through to the end. It is easier to find my way through the darkness with a friend to wear the head lamp.

I see a good amount of physical pain at work. Part of the job. Physical pain sucks, no doubt. I have never broken a bone or had chronic pain but I have worked with enough people to know it looks really miserable. I see emotional pain at work too - whether it be a family who is dealing with a loved one that has been moved to hospice, or a person who is in the hospital by themselves trying to navigate the physical aspects of their illness alone. Both are hard but oh so different. I don't have medicine I can give you for the emotional pain. The emotional pain is harder to treat. I can listen and provide support but my time with patients is generally short. My hope for them when they leave is that they have people in their life walking alongside them.

Pain and grief make many of us uncomfortable. We are afraid we will say something wrong so wonder if it is better to not say anything at all. In my experience, it is better to risk saying the wrong thing than remain silent. Even if all you can say is that you aren't sure what to say. Or to just remain physically present even when it is uncomfortable.

So, to the man at church and to my loved ones that I know are struggling right now. I see you. You aren't alone. If you want someone to hold your hand, I'm here. And, if it's not me, look for someone else around that looks like they could sit for awhile.

I still have big hopes for February.