When times of crisis are upon others, it’s hard to know how to respond. I always struggle with what to do or what to say. I’ve lost grandparents and friends, but never a parent, sibling, or spouse. I can’t even begin to imagine that. I’ve lost one dear mentor to cancer (Little Monkey’s namesake), but haven’t dealt with it in my family. Thank God! I’ve dug myself out of debt only to lose a house that wouldn’t sell to bankruptcy and then build the best financial freedom I’ve ever had, but I’m no CPA or financial wizard. I’ve had some stupid relationships but am now happily married and my parents just celebrated 40 years last October, so I don’t know what it’s like to have a family rocked by divorce. I never know what to do or say. Sometimes I apply my irreverent sense of humor and make a joke about the situation, but usually I’m at a loss.
Rewind to a few weeks ago, I shared my Little Monkey’s health issues and the fact that we were facing surgery for our 22-month old. I felt overwhelming support from family, friends, co-workers, and fellow bloggers. It was uplifting and inspiring. I even had a friend attend the first specialist visit with me, because my husband couldn’t.
Then today, I learned that a generous and caring friend is dealing with another family issue. She’s had three whoppers in the past two years. First, her father was hit by a drunk driver (a cop). It was a long and painful road to recovery, but he is now healthy. Next, her mother was diagnosed with cancer and lost her battle. Now, a very close cousin was hit by a drunk driver and is barely hanging on. Needless to say the last two years have been trying for her family and her faith. As we were talking today, before she heads off to see her cousin in the morning (probably for one last time), she thanked me for my friendship and prayers and said, “I don’t understand, but I trust.” Through all this, she still clings to her faith. It is inspiring.
Tomorrow, my husband and I take our sweet Little Monkey to another specialist (this time in Atlanta at the Children’s Hospital). We are still looking for someone who will do the surgery that he needs. Since we haven’t had to think about it for while, I’ve been fine. But now, I feel the need for peace again. And when I stop to think about it, I don’t need a medical expert, a therapist, or a pastor (sorry Charlie) to offer me sage advice. I simply need my family and friends (now, that’s you Charlie) to pray for me and with me and just to be there. That’s all we really need from others and all they truly need from us.