You've received the call. We all have.
The phone rings, shattering the normalcy of everyday life with news of serious illness. Or an accident. You listen, your heart pierced, feeling as if you've been gut-punched.
Your sister has cancer; your dear friend, ALS. Your co-worker has been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis; your father is being treated for Parkinson's. A professional associate has been in a car accident; a neighbor suffered a stroke. Or some other disease, illness, or accident is afflicting someone else close to you.
It can't be, you think. Not him. Not her. Not now.
Hanging up the phone, you take a deep breath, trying to make sense of it all. Finally, the realization dawns on you that to get through all this, they will need help. Your help.
Though you're not sure exactly what to do, you begin to wonder:
"What can I do to help? What could I possibly do that might take some of the load off his wife or her husband? How can I show her how much she means to me, how sorry I am that all this has happened, how grateful I am for all he has done for me, how truly I want to pitch in and help him weather this storm?"
Naturally, each person and each circumstance is different. With that in mind, what follows are guidelines, suggestions, and tips for how best to step up to the plate and make a difference in the life of a friend or associate who needs help.
Truly, each person and family is an ecosystem unto itself -- unique and fragile, strong yet enduring. An essential part of our task is to discern how to respect the extraordinary gifts of that ecosystem, while at the same time make a positive and life-affirming impact. It is, after all, holy ground -- we all are. And at no time is the holy ground of the human spirit more apparent than when our hearts are pierced with sorrow, our lives pitched into disarray.
Certainly no single proffer of help or menu of activities will be universally beneficial to every person or every family -- or to their delicate yet sturdy ecosystem of habit and personality, experience and preference. The trick is to craft a plan of community care, a template for compassion in-action that both respects and honors those we serve.
And that is easier done than said. (Translation: Don't just talk about it: Do something.) All too often we delay helping out a friend in need because we don't know what to say or do -- we're uncomfortable facing the illness, or the person with it. Sometimes, it feels easier for awhile to avoid the discomfort by avoiding the person who needs our help.
Many times, people with a serious illness report the hurt caused by the 'disappearance' of a dear friend or what seems like the callous disregard of an associate or co-worker. Most of the time, the people involved are neither callous nor mean. They're just under-tooled. And perhaps unacquainted with the basic rubrics of community support and outreach.
