By: Revanche

Taking a moment

February 10, 2010

Could I have the mic, please?

I must express my sincere thanks to each of you who reads this blog, shares your experiences, and supports me through some of my ugliest, most painful moments.

More than that, several of you whom I don’t yet have permission to thank publicly but would really like to!, were overwhelmingly compassionate when Fabulously Broke and Rina of Gotta Little Space sent out a plea of comradery and community after my post on Sunday.  It had been a soul-rending sort of day and I deeply needed to purge the poisons of paralytic despair, never dreaming it would become a call to arms.

FB made the argument for a spot of help better than I ever could have – I couldn’t have justified asking for anything. I trek from today, to tomorrow, to next week, making the best of it. Nobody was compelled, no one was importuned with expectation. But you gave anyway. And you gave with wishes that it could be more, when no matter how much (and never ever “how little”) you gave, the gesture meant the world to me.

I’m not destitute, just heartwrecked. I didn’t have the words, who knows if I ever would, to ask for help for myself but I am blessed with friends who know me well enough to step in anyway. 

Because my parents are destitute. They’ve lost the joy and freedom that parents earn after raising two children, they’ve stalled in gear, in survival mode.  Instead of pride in a job well done, instead of relishing time-mellowed relationships with their adult children, they’re always fretting. Reliance on their daughter must be crippling her future, they think, and so they pinch every penny, unable to partake in the most basic pleasures in life. Rarely taking good enough care of themselves.  Asking, needing yet more from me, was destroying the definitions of their parenthood, shaking already fragile psyches.

It is on their behalf, I gratefully accept these helping hands that aren’t about me, that are about helping people over an increasingly rough road until we can make more permanent decisions.  Those decisions cannot be made lightly, they take time and ever-limited resources.  Resources like extra gas money for twice or thrice weekly 60-mile round trips to the nearest, properly-equipped adult day care center and the invaluable benefits.  Resources like that can buy time, a chance for rest, for solace, for reflection and planning.  And time can bring a measure of peace and clarity.   

A wise friend said, “if we don’t help each other, who will?”

Though I firmly believe the same, that fact has never before come home with such grace and selflessness. For our good fortune, in this wealth of friendship, please know that this will be put to good use, and will be passed forward.

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