All I can do is be here. To listen. To hold you. To hold you up.
There seems to be an epidemic of pain and life-crises happening to the people I know and love. In addition to the major things, others I know are having difficult times with smaller issues, minor injuries, nagging illnesses, emotional situations and stressors popping up.
All I can do is be there. Offer to help. Or, in cases where even those aren’t an option, to think powerful good thoughts and wish for them the strength to cope. Other than the physical reliefs of offering to cook, clean, drive, whatever needs to be done, all we can do when someone is in pain is to do our best to offer our presence, to continue to love, and to keep communicating – and, one hopes, help hold them up as they do the same – or, until they can again find the strength to do the same.
So, I am. But, I do hate this helpless feeling of not being able to save them, to relieve them, to take their pain for them. I hate this feeling of being unable to do anything more. I wish that my worry about them and my wishes for their salvation and relief did more to assuage the grief, the doubt, the anger, the sorrow, the questions, the pain.
But, I’m here alone in my room, not sleeping, reading because I’m too tired to write coherently, and waiting for their call or text – those I can reach who I have told I am available 24 hours a day for whatever they need. Until they call, I will just have to wait and hope and wish for the best for them.
But I hate that I can’t hold them, make them safe, carry their weight. And, I hope they call on me.