All Pro Dad
“I write about the power of trying, because I want to be okay with failing. I write about generosity because I battle selfishness. I write about joy because I know sorrow. I write about faith because I almost lost mine, and I know what it is to be broken and in need of redemption. I write about gratitude because I am thankful – for all of it.” ~ Kristin Armstrong
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I am trying to shed my selfishness. How in the world could a now 79-year-old woman still need to TRY to shed selfishness? It’s easy. I think we ALL have a tendency to think about ourselves, what we think, what we feel, before we think of others, no matter how hard we try not to.
I have 3 recent or ongoing examples:
- I recently lost a dear friend of mine to cancer. We only met once face-to-face but we met online (she placed her work on my website for sale over 20 years ago) and we recognized each other. We emailed at least once every day since we met, sharing good things, bad things, really letting it all hang out because we knew we were in safe hands – no judgment – just care. We celebrated with each other long distance and cried with each other. When I found out she was, indeed gone, my first reaction was, “What am “I” going to do without her? How will “I” handle missing her, not hearing from her every morning and later in the day? Who will “I” confide in now?
I gradually accepted that she was gone, and with that, finally let other feelings flow through, like the fact that I was SO happy that her suffering was over. That I should celebrate our friendship for the incredibly wonderful, rare thing it was, and smile remembering how much we gave each other. That her creativity, resilience, and kindness will live as her legacy.
Beauty for Ashes – Pinterest
- 2. My husband and I moved to Thailand to retire and live close to our grown son here. We would be out from under the growing burden of trying to keep our house, land, pets, and life running in Arkansas, be able to relax, regain our health, and begin a whole new chapter of our lives together, hand-in-hand. Instead, 2 weeks after we moved, my husband fell and had a stroke. He is now incapacitated, living in a nursing home here, my son and I visiting 3 times a week. Again, my first reaction was all about ME. What will “I” do now? How will “I” live by myself, alone, for the first time in my life? How do “I” handle the hurt when he thinks I’m his mother or a stranger? How do “I” deal with the fact that the man “I” married is no longer there? How do “I” handle my feelings of depression when we visit?
Curiano.Tumbler.com – Pinterest
This is one I continue to work on. I finally put on my big girl panties and realized this is NOT. ABOUT. ME.
I consciously try to leave my expectations at home when we go to visit. I go with the wish that we bring something to Harvey each visit. Maybe we can make our visit something that brightens his day a little. Maybe he can feel that we are on each side of the bed, holding his hands. Maybe we will ask something that ignites a spark in him. Maybe he will like what we brought him, whether a book, a photo or two on the phone, some news about what we’re doing, something that happened, something we’re hoping for. Maybe we spark a pleasant memory for him. Maybe he feels loved when we hug and kiss him when we come and when we leave. Maybe he will enjoy the pie or drink we brought. Maybe his feet are cold and we can put on his socks for him, adjust his pillows or comforter…
“Self-absorption in all its forms kills empathy, let alone compassion. When we focus on ourselves, our world contracts as our problems and preoccupations loom large. But when we focus on others, our world expands. Our own problems drift to the periphery of the mind and so seem smaller, and we increase our capacity for connection – or compassionate action.”
― Daniel Goleman, Social Intelligence: The New Science of Human Relationships
3. The last one is when we are coming home from visiting Harvey. We sit outside the nursing home waiting for our Grab ride to pick us up. My son Brian looks at me and asks if I’m all right. We get in the Grab and he holds my hand all the way home (40 minutes.) He arranges for the Grab to stop at our favorite chocolate place so we can share our feelings about how Harvey was today while we share chocolate drinks and enjoy the baby koi fish the shop just added to the outside. Again he reaches for my hands and asks if I’m all right.
Instead of quietly letting the tears roll in the Grab, I’m finally realizing that I am NOT the only one hurting here. I’m not the only one who feels depressed. And yet my son is trying to calm me down, do something nice for me to try to cheer me up, is taking care of his MOM, as well as his dad, hiding his feelings mostly.
I’m making a point of finding the good in each visit. I’m thinking of those things in the Grab, smiling at Brian and assuring him I AM doing fine. That I love going to the chocolate place with him and that he would think to do that. I hug him tight, thank him for all he is doing for both of us, and wait until I am alone in my own place before any more tears fall, if still necessary. Since I’m changing my thinking, usually this is a thing of the past.
Attitude is all. We are all human, and it’s understandable that we think of how things will affect us. We are, after all, the center of our own universe and we need to be honest with ourselves, own our feelings and realize that we are not okay all of the time. But we can make ourselves better, and also those around us, if we stand back and change our perspective to the fact that how we think about the OTHERS around us can make us grow.
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