We had a tragedy in our family recently. My 27 year old nephew died after a brief and mysterious illness. I am still processing the bewildering few weeks leading up to his death and have not assimilated the whole of what happened. I keep thinking about how glad I am to have been able to be there for him at the end. Especially since I was not there for him for much of his life. Why is it so difficult to show up for someone, even when you love them?
For me, the nightmare began with panicked texts and phone calls and then continued with increasing trips to and from the hospital. I left in the middle of a shift at work, dropped everything so that I could go and be with my nephew. There were other family members who did the same.
At one point I spent a whole day with two people I didn’t know: my nephew’s Grandfather from the other side of the family and his roommate, a 20-something year old who I called “the Kid.” The Kid and I fell into a pattern of looking after the older man and together we navigated the hospital, found food and water, figured out parking and bathrooms, and helped the others who showed up later.
In between we told each other our stories. The Kid was an only child and came from a Southern Indian family with a Father who is quite a character. The Grandfather told us of his upbringing on a farm in the Prairies and of the hardships his family faced. We were an unlikely trio but it occurred to me that my nephew would have loved this: he accepted everyone and saw people for who they were – without question.
Helpless
Over several days my nephew’s condition deteriorated (my anger here is too great to go into detail) and many relatives from out of town began showing up. There wasn’t much room for all of us in the ICU. I took to going to the hospital early in the morning or late at night after everyone else had left so I could sit by my unconscious nephew and read aloud. One night I drove in a snowstorm, determined to get down to the hospital because I knew no one else would be there. They had the lights turned low for us and I read quietly to him from the magazine I’d chosen a few weeks before. It turned out to be the last time we’d spend together.
What I have been thinking about is how I failed him in his life – I just wasn’t there enough for him. There are many reasons for this – some I can forgive myself for, others I cannot. In the end I showed up but for most of his life, I did not.
Show Up or Shut Up
Showing up means being there to provide help and support to someone. It means walking your talk and standing by your commitments. It means that if you tell someone you’ll do something, it’s as good as done and they don’t have to worry that it may or may not get done.
I have worked very hard since my early twenties to be the kind of person who “shows up” because I was flaky and inconsistent for most of my early years. A good friend called me out on it and I realized she was absolutely right. The problem was that each party or event sounded great so I’d say “yes” to everything and then not show up to half of it because of conflicts.
Boundaries
The other reason I am not great at showing up is that I struggle making clear boundaries with others. Besides the over commitment for activities, I have trouble saying “no” when someone asks me to do something for them. Some of these requests are way out of line and downright burdensome but still I find it tough to say “no.” It seems like I am a magnet for the type of person who makes these kinds of requests, too. Learning to stand up for myself and setting boundaries is part of my journey to becoming whole.
Over the course of my life, especially when I was a Mother who stayed home, I’d end up doing all kinds of things I didn’t want to do because people assumed I was sitting around eating bon-bons. Well, an involved Mom – especially a homeschooling one – rarely gets a moment to sit for a quiet cup of tea, let alone bon-bons! If she did have treats, she will have painstakingly made them herself, too!
Mother’s Method
As a busy Mom, I found myself avoiding the phone most of the time because it was usually a source of trouble for me – someone asking me to do something I didn’t really want to do. (This was before call display!) The phone became a barrier and said “no” for me. I see how chicken-shit this is now.
My own Mom did not know how to define boundaries either. She took a different tack than I did and let poor health be the barrier for her. As a kid, I would watch as her old back injury suddenly “acted up” before a night out with my Dad and his work colleagues. Sometimes a migraine headache would come on suddenly. There is no doubt that my Mom truly suffered with these ailments but it is also obvious that this was her way of saying “no.” Interestingly, since my Dad lost his job, I have not ever heard her complain of a sore back! Yet this was a constant refrain in my childhood.
I simply did not have room for all the things that I wanted to do after looking after my kids’ needs. Doing favours, hosting get-togethers for Mothering groups, and keeping up with all the birthdays, holidays, etc. was often exhausting. When my needs fell to the bottom of the to-do list I would live with resentment and a kind of sullen anger. I kept waiting for someone to give me permission to do the things I wanted to do. Usually I’d have to get angry before I could state what I wanted. I just realized this is still true to a large extent.
Lost in Translation
When the needs of my family or friends conflicted with mine, every now and then I put my own needs first. Afterwards, I would feel very guilty, as if I’d “fallen down” as a Mother or as a friend.
One of the reasons my relationship with my nephew grew distant was because I was unable to establish a relationship with him alone. I did not have the emotional capacity for his Mother, step-sister, and the others in his circle at the time. Trying to juggle all of their emotional needs made me very unhappy and I would be grouchy with my own family. When I finally made the decision to distance myself, I felt relief as well as guilt. I was also angry at the people and circumstances that made it so difficult for us to be close.
My reasoning seems trivial in light of what has happened now, though.
Guilt and Resentment – Choosing Your Poison
I’ve written before of Gabor Mate’s thoughts on guilt and resentment and now his words are giving me a little comfort. From When the Body Says No: “A therapist once said to me, ‘If you face the choice between feeling guilt and resentment, choose the guilt every time.’ It is wisdom I have passed on to many others since. If a refusal saddles you with guilt, while consent leaves resentment in its wake, opt for the guilt. Resentment is soul suicide.”
All Apologies
Excuses aside, there were times I should have been more generous, more understanding, or just plain shown up for my nephew. I always thought we’d have time to connect when he grew up and became independent. But of course, we hadn’t laid the groundwork for a relationship and didn’t really know each other well at all.
It turns out my nephew had a rich and varied life in the online world – a world I had no idea even existed. There was a large outpouring of heartfelt comments for his online obituary.
At first, I was angry. Where were all these people when he needed them? If they had been there, they would have seen how sick he was and encouraged him to go to the hospital much earlier than he did. Not one of them showed up at the hospital, either.
My daughter pointed out that they were likely all over the world and didn’t even know my nephew in person at all.
Lessons From the War
I remember wondering if you could get to know someone through only their words, like a husband and wife during WWII who had met and married within a few days and then spent the rest of the war writing letters to each other. Is it possible to get to know someone in the hyper fast, shortcut communication world online?
The people he communicated with seemed to know my nephew’s inner reality. It sounds like they consoled and commiserated with each other over the injustices they suffered at the hands of society. They also joked around and traded sports trivia and shared other interests.
But after the war, even the husband and wife had to eventually meet each other if they were to live a life together. No matter how warm and welcoming, people only available online are of little use when a physical ailment comes along or even when you need a hand moving a ‘fridge, say. This is why so many long distance relationships fail, like my last one.
It appears that my nephew left the site as his health deteriorated. He must have felt so alone without the emotional support of these friends. Yet they were completely unable to show up for him “in real life.”
How We Used to Show Up
For several generations people showed up by getting everyone together and arranging celebrations for each other or raising money for various causes. I remember my Mother’s family – aunts, cousins, nieces – all sitting around a table making paper flowers for an upcoming wedding. They had huge garbage bags full because the whole hall had to be decorated as well as several cars in the wedding party. All these people would in turn help each other’s kids when they got married.
When tragedy struck, people would spring into action like our neighbours did in 1974 when my Dad had his life-altering car accident. They immediately took us kids in and organized rides to take Mom to the hospital as well as dropping off food for our family. This went on for SIX months!
Neighbours would show up with casseroles or baskets of food when they found out you’d had a death in the family. I have carried on this tradition by making my homemade lasagna for many families over the years. Going over to the house is never easy. I have to put aside my fears or any of my own emotion so that I can deliver some practical help.
Why Show Up?
We don’t show up for each other with the expectation of reciprocity. We show up because we love. It is an expression of our love of the person, their family, or the respect they deserve as a fellow human being. It is crucial that any offering is done willingly and without any expectation. You are, in effect, giving yourself.
Internet relationships will never fully challenge anyone to show up in this way. It’s too easy to type a comment, toss off an email, or do an e-transfer. Showing up, by its very nature, means giving everything you are – not just your money, your avatar, or a pretty speech.
To show up, you must actually show up.
F*ck the Government
I have noticed that the millennials expect the government to step in and save them. They want money for this and money for that. I wonder when they’ll realize it’s just not enough?
The government will NEVER be a good substitute for a caring friend, a close neighbour, or a kind person. The kids need to learn that anyone paid to do a job cannot be expected to show up for them in any meaningful way. These workers are going home exhausted to their own families!
Action is Required
As much as I love words, I now see their limits. We must actually show up for each other and we don’t have to actually say anything at all. No one can do this for us. Anything online is simply not good enough. Showing up is love in action. It is proof that you care enough to get dressed, leave the house, and arrive somewhere with no reward in mind except for the hope of sharing some time together or the privilege of being of service to someone who needs you.
In the end, we were at my nephew’s bedside because we loved him. It was up to those of us who knew him in the “real world” to keep him company, squeeze his hand, and stroke his cheek as he lay dying in a strange place.
I don’t understand why my nephew’s life was cut so short. All I know is that his dying has taught me something. If I am to live my life with as few regrets as possible, I’ve got to show up for the people I love more often.
