When there is nothing to understand, nothing to say
and nothing to do - or is there?
Since I last wrote we have had a 10 ½ month
friend die and a young man, my daughter’s age, get some potentially
devastating news.
Each event has challenged me. How to stay present
to my friends and not be overwhelmed? What is the best way to help?
How to accept that sometimes there simply is nothing to understand?
Our baby friend was seriously ill in hospital
when we went away for our summer camping holiday. Prior to going
camping I had been popping into the hospital as I could, just to
say hello and sit with them for a while.
When I was camping, I initially struggled with
being away enjoying myself while they were in Auckland experiencing
a very personal sort of hell. I ended up giving myself a talking
to about making sure I enjoyed the opportunity I had. All the while
knowing that there was nothing I could do to help anyway. Such a
feeling of helplessness though.
As I thought about it some more I decided I would
at least send a daily text – just to say, “You are not
forgotten”. So when I climbed the hill to change the freezer
pads at the communal freezer I would also gather at the site where
I could get signal – where we could all get signal actually.
It was a hilarious sight to see us all there pointing our mobile
phones skyward from the hill, waiting and hoping for communication
release! I would briefly say what we were up to at our end –
a quick chat – and then carry on into my day. The occasional
return text assured me of the delight of ‘normal’ communication
and of being kept in touch with.
When I returned to Auckland the visits continued
and I would stay light and present during the hospital time and
then cry on my way home - nothing to do, nothing to say.
My friend does beautiful drawings and it occurred to me that drawing
might be one way for her to stay grounded during her experience,
especially if they were in this for the long haul. I asked if she
would like to do this and one day I took in several sketch books
and a bunch of crayons.
It didn’t end up being a long haul –
our beautiful baby friend died late January and we attended one
of the most exquisite funeral ceremonies I have been to. At this
time we got to say good bye to her and to honour her Mum & Dad.
We don’t expect to have to say good bye
to a baby and to grieve with parents whose hopes and dreams have
been so radically changed by such a loss. It was a time of deep
reflection for us all – both during her illness, as we offered
our prayers and meditations and readings, and at her death.
And the drawings – well I may be privileged
to see them one day - or not - as the case may be. However they
were begun and are being continued. As someone outside the situation
I could be an observer and make a suggestion around self care, without
it needing to be a magic cure.
Our other friend is an inspiring go-getter and leaves the rest of
us behind with his matter-of-factness. At a much younger age than
I, he is teaching me that sometimes there are no ‘reasons’,
there is nothing to understand. Life just is, so just get on with
it. I want to look for reasons, for understanding – because
if I did, surely there would be something I could do to make it
all better again!
I still don’t get the WHY of these events.
I DO get that staying in touch, acknowledging what is going on rather
than pretending it isn’t, staying grounded myself and present
to my own living, all help.
Sometimes there is nothing to understand. There
is something that can be said and done.
Arohanui Kerry-Ann
Juxtaposed with these events were two heartening ones.
On the day I heard of our baby friend’s death I was
doing a naming ceremony for a small boy the same age. As
one family grieved, another family and their circle of extended
family and friends, joyfully welcomed their small boy into
the world and their community.
I have also been helping a friend make a scrap cot quilt
for her first grandchild. I knew her daughter as a small
child and looked after her with my own daughter. Making
this quilt has been a form of prayer for me – keeping
me in creative action and soothing my soul.
Indeed the yum/yuck of life as I call it.
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After thought: Poems can offer solace. These two
moved me.
God be with the mother (father) by Michael
Leunig.
Find it in A Common Prayer - a cartoonist talks to God, Michael
Leunig, HarperCollinsReligious, 1990
A small wave for your form by Mhairi nic
Neill.
Find it in Life Prayers, ed. E. Roberts & E. Amidon, Harper,
San Francisco, 1996
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