Ordinary Heroes

Ordinary days can become extraordinary when you answer the call for help. I hadn't even heard about these heroes...

Thank You

I was really moved by this video from Japan. The sincerity of the people, the simple message, and the emotion touched me deeply. It also made me reflect on my past refusals of help when I didn’t want to burden someone else or I had no way to repay them. In other words, I let my pride make the decision for me.

But Japan’s choice to accept help from other nations after the devastation by the tsunami eleven months ago empowered them to turn a tragic story into one of hope and healing; a success that now ripples out to all who were part of the aid effort. To me, this story is a reminder of the powerful gift that those who may feel utterly powerless have to give, even as they struggle.

Mom and I are involved in the daily tension of giving and receiving. At first glance, it seems like I am doing the former, she the latter, but it really doesn’t work that way. She may need me to help her stand up and totter over to the sink every morning, but I also need her to accept and apply my help to her own strength. If she refuses to receive the hand that I reach out to her, then neither of us accomplishes anything; but if she accepts by grasping it with her own, then her need gets met and she gives me the priceless gift of seeing her empowered to succeed. We both become givers and receivers; each humbled by our vulnerability to rejection, with the end result that she feels less alone and I feel part of her triumph. How easily the sin of pride could undermine this powerful exchange.

Arigato, Tohoku, for the poignant reminder.

Vacancy

“I’m feeling a little vacancy.” That’s how Aunt Blanche would sometimes, rather tongue-in-cheek, express hunger. Well, I’ve been feeling a little vacancy, too, these days, but not in my stomach. I have been staring at this blog for months, wanting to reach out with meaningful words; set down some sort of record. At first I blamed my creative deficiency on lack of time, then on lack of interesting activity; after all, one day looks pretty much like the next around here. Yet, there has been something brewing beneath the surface of my psyche that I need to say.

Perhaps the stage of care giving and receiving that Mom and I are in is to blame. Some days the feelings are too deep or too personal to set into print and on others they are too shallow and self-centered; exposing the worst of me at a time when I am trying to exercise the best. Or maybe it’s that my feelings are just too jumbled right now.

All I know is that when I go to write, I am empty.

Void.
Flat.

In fact, my conversations tend to be the same.

I have nothing to add.
Ever.

The natural inclination, of course, is to look for solutions.

Get out more.
Keep busy.
Exercise.
Find things to do together.
Grab some alone time.
But, honestly, I know all that; it’s what we’ve been trying to do. This problem is something else.

I have decided that Mom and I are both just tired right now; tired of ourselves, our complaints, and each other, and each other’s complaints…and demands. We’re trapped; me willingly, her not so much. And frankly, I don’t think there is a specific cure for what I feel right now. It just is what it is. Maybe restlessness is a natural part of this journey and the best thing I can do is acknowledge the emptiness it conjures so that it doesn’t become overwhelming and then continue on with as much tenacity as I can muster. So with this post, here I am, moving forward again with renewed resolve.