The Best Piece of Advice I Have to Offer

Yesterday was gorgeous here in New York: A balmy 70-something degrees. I was overdressed in my puffy vest and long-sleeve shirt. After 37 years on this earth, I am still not good at dressing appropriately for the weather. In fact, several times I have made New Year’s resolutions to learn to dress weather-appropriate. I am constantly overdressed or underdressed or have too many layers or not enough. Spaghetti-strapped dresses in 60 degrees; flip-flops in rain. I obviously need to revisit this resolution.

I took the girls out to Long Island and met a friend at the playground for a playdate, which, of course, is more like an excuse for the Moms to get together in an environment that will allow for children to be happily distracted so the Moms can engage in much-needed grown-up talk. It is a great playground, right on the beach. There was a nice breeze and you could smell the smell that is the Long Island Sound (I mean that in a good way; it has a very distinctive smell). The girls had a great time, raised by the power of sand, which is a substance they love to throw at each other. The even somehow got sand in their diapers.

So my friend and I were talking about how her aunt was just diagnosed with breast cancer and has to go for surgery this Saturday. My friend asked her aunt if she wanted her to go to the hospital with her, but the aunt said no, and she said that she knows how busy my friend is with her kids. The aunt said she would do it alone (the aunt is not married and has no other family around). Funny how people shut the world out just when they need someone the most. (And yes, this is the pot calling the kettle black: I am notorious for this.) My friend is indeed busy, and has a month-old newborn at home to boot, so things like taking an aunt to the hospital is indeed difficult to work into an already-packed schedule. But despite her aunt’s do-it-alone bravado, my friend said she is just going to meet her at the hospital anyway. How sweet is that? It was one of those moments when I felt lucky to have a person like that as a friend.

OK, that was a long set up for a somewhat simple point: Actions speak louder than words. Verbal offers to help are kind and considerate and sweet, and usually genuine (though sometimes not), but doing something will always trump a verbal offer. You know how people say “Let me know if there is anything I can do?” This is what I think: Don’t ask what you can do, just do something. Anything. That is maybe the one piece of wisdom that I hope to be telling my grandchildren some day. And it only took about four decades to learn.

In my life, I have not really known one person who was able to step out of the grief/fear/depression/bad place to think of a task that you might be able to do to help them. Sadness and delegation do not mix well. “Let me know what I can do” is usually met with “Thanks, that is sweet. I will.” and then…. nothing happens. Why? In general, I think most people do not like to ask for help or to impose. People do not like to be needy. People like to appear strong and not vulnerable. Or maybe I am just speaking about myself. Regardless, I have not heard one example of a person suffering through an illness or death or loss say “Actually, yes, can you pick up a few groceries for me and maybe make some dinner because I haven’t eaten a real meal in about a week.” Or “Can you whisk me away to a movie so I can escape for a couple of hours?” Or “How about do you something slightly cheesy but sweet, like get send me bubble bath and an apple-cinnamon scented candle and a trashy magazine.” People are just not that specific.

Also in the same vein and another phrase I wish I could retire is “Call me if you want to talk.” This I experienced first-hand during my miscarriages. It meant so much to get voicemails from friends, saying that they were thinking of me and that they were there for me, even though I was not reaching out. I was not going to call anyone, really, to talk, during some of those darkest and scariest moments. My grief made an impenetrable wall around me. The irony was that I had that wall, but I wanted people to try to take it down. I needed people to try to take it down. But every single phone call with a “I’m on my way to work and just wanted to let you know I was thinking about you” message I got knocked down a few of those bricks.

Even the littlest tangible gestures mean so much more than just words. That is my wisdom. That is the one thing I know for sure.

Thanks for all of the reassuring comments about the pacemaker/heartbeat issue. I am keeping track of the palpitations and will follow up with my doctor in three months. Until then, I am going to not stress about it. Stressing would only make the heart issue worse, no? And the cycle would just continue.

Pictured above, two of my friends, appropriately dressed for the rain, on their way to a miscarriage support dinner for me. The umbrellas are symbolic, no? As much as I like to shut out the world and crawl into a cave during my dark times, I feel so lucky to have friends who will climb in there with me. And also pictured, a year ago, this was us. I can’t believe tomorrow is our first year anniversary! We are dropping the kids off with their cousins and going to do something. Not sure what, since there is supposed to be massive rain tomorrow. But we are not going to let that rain on our anniversary parade.