Sharing the Load

I have two friends going through terrible times. They call to talk, to commisserate, to question. Why did this person leave, why did this person stop loving, how am going to face being alone, how do I start over? I no longer have the answers to the really tough questions in life.

In my twenties, I was sure I knew everything, but I hadn't really been tested yet. My parents, whom I thought were pretty naive and uninformed during that time, miraculously became brilliant in my thirties when I was no longer sure I had all the answers. It was not until my forties that even the questions became illusive, much less the answers to them.

In my fifties, I stopped asking the huge questions and just did the best with the day before me. The big picture had become less consuming.

In my sixties, I've learned that there is really only one important question and that we all struggle with it until the day we die; that all the rest of the seeming important issues and questions are truly superflouous.

What is the issue that is so monumental? What propels all our actions and choices; what is the core question we ask from the moment we're able until the day we die?

It is: do I have value and am I valuable enough to be loved?

And don't we go through a lot of contortions to find out?

And isn't it from others that we seek the answer?

I know that we say it shouldn't matter what others think or how they feel about us, but isn't it their reflection and their treatment of us that makes us feel either valued and loved, or not?

Don't we all want a witness to our life, a cheerleader for our efforts, and an encourager when we struggle? Don't we all want and need to be loved?

And so I give my love to my family members and my friends in the best way that I can. I validate their experience, empathize with their feelings, and bolster their self-esteem whenever I can. I can't really give them answers because I don't have them. I can only give them my love and encouragement.

I think the story below is a good example of giving what we can to help others.

Two Men


Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs. His bed was next to the room’s only window. The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back.

The men talked for hours on end. They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacation.

Every after noon when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window.

The man in the other bed began to live for those one hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by the activity and color of the world outside.

The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every color and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance. As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque scene.

One warm afternoon, the man by the window described a parade passing by. Although the man couldn’t hear the band, he could see it clearly in his mind’s eye.

They shared these moments over the days and weeks that passed. One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only to find the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his sleep. She was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take the body away.

As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone.

Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the real world outside that his dear friend had so beautifully described. He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside his bed. It faced a blank wall.

The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased friend to describe such wonderful things outside the window. The nurse responded that the man was blind and could not have even seen the wall. She said, “Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you.”

Despite our own situation, there is tremendous solace and joy in making others happy. It is true that shared grief is half the sorrow, and that happiness, when shared, is doubled.