Some years ago, I was doing bereavement work with a gentleman whose wife had died. They were a young couple with three kids under the age of 15, and we talked often about what it meant to be a widower. To have been a co-parent and to now be a single parent. His life changed a lot after his wife died. All of their lives did. Often he would mention how friends or family would say to him, “Let me know what I can do to help!” and he nodded and said that of course he would, but at the end of the day, he felt confused by the offer. “By the time I pick up the phone and share what I need help with,” he would often say, “I have figured it out already. I can do it myself in less time than it takes to coordinate with someone else.”
I think it is hard to be someone watching a friend or family member struggle—through treatment or illness. It is hard sometimes to understand what would be useful. We have an outsized awareness of being intrusive or unwelcome. But here is what I know about helping people: It is not helpful to put the onus of defining what is helpful on them. It is not helpful to ask someone who is already struggling to coordinate and define what they need, no matter how well-intentioned the offer is.
At the risk of being wrong every now and again, I think there is one simple answer to “what can I do to help?”and it is this: SHOW UP.
Simple, right? Instead of tossing off a lofty, “Let me know what you need from me” or “Let me know what I can do to help”, just show up. Show up with food (a popular choice). Offer to take the kids for an afternoon, or to drop them off where they need to be. When out in the world, maybe call and say, “Hey, I’m at the farmer’s market…need anything?” Or just bring back a gallon of milk, a dozen eggs or some fruit that’s ripe and beautiful and in season. Offer to pick them up to go to a movie. Maybe ask about upcoming appointments or obligations and just say, “I’m free next Tuesday morning. I will take you to your appointment.” Maybe just call up and say, “I thought I’d go to the park and sit (or walk) a bit. Would you like to come with me?”
You can trust the person to say “no” when they cannot or do not want to. You can trust yourself to be attuned and to assess for their willingness to receive your help. You can be transparent and say, “If ever my offers are unwelcome or too much, please say so. It’s ok.”
The fact is that sometimes there is nothing we can do to be more present, more supportive, or more helpful. The fact also is that I almost never hear patients say, “Gosh. All these people offering their time and kindness! What a bother!” In fact, it is quite the opposite. Even people with many friends and a large family often end up navigating this cancer business all by themselves. With many well-intentioned but very vague offers of “Let me know how I can help,” they sit alone in the evenings, or get to doctor’s appointments by themselves, or feel overwhelmed by obligations. If even ONE person in their support network just showed up, it could feel very differently for everyone.
I often talk to patients about that, too. The one or two people who just showed up and were present and supportive and intuitive and who made this terrible illness feel tolerable and possible and if nothing else, just not so darned lonely.
I was reminded the other day of a woman I worked with a few years ago. I’ll call her Lena. Lena had been diagnosed with a fairly rare cancer and was going through rigorous treatment. Shortly after being diagnosed, she received a scholarship to travel to a cancer support retreat out of town. Fifty people from all over the country gathered to talk about this diagnosis. To learn from and support one another. Of this group of 50, there were two with whom she closely bonded. At the end of the week, they exchanged information and returned to their respective homes, representing far-flung locations across the United States. As you would expect, they did not talk or text too much once they got back to their lives, but at one point, Lena was having a really hard time. An emotional and spiritual crisis sparked by her continued fatigue, lack of good news, and fear for the future. One day she was home, resting and feeling unwell when the doorbell rang and she put on her robe to answer the door. When she opened it, there they were– her two new friends from retreat standing there with weekend bags at their feet. “We weren’t sure what was going on,” one of them said, “But we sensed that you needed us to be here with you.”
They stayed the weekend, laughing and crying and supporting one another. They SHOWED UP. She now has the tips of her toes in survivorship. She is healing and figuring it all out. Despite having a loving family and group of friends, she says that these two women that she had just newly met are her “angels”.
This is what I’m talking about. Don’t wait to be asked. Don’t agonize and hem and haw about what is helpful. Turns out you don’t need an engraved invitation or a handwritten instruction manual to be helpful. You just need a full heart with loving intention and a little bit of trust. Not all angels have wings, but all angels do one thing—they show up.