In the past two days, I’ve spent about thirteen hours sitting in my mom’s hospital room while she recovers from surgery. This afternoon, after I finish marking papers, I’ll go and sit for a few more.
I don’t do much while I’m there. She doesn’t require much care, I can’t heal her wounds, she’s not up for a lot of conversation yet, and lots of time (especially the first day) she sleeps. But still I sit. Sometimes I read, sometimes I chat with her husband, and sometimes – when she’s alert, we talk.
I do it because I know that it’s something I can do for her. I haven’t always known how to be a support for her, but right now, while she’s in a hospital room, I know that the thing I can offer her is my presence. Simple as that. Just my presence. When she drifts off to sleep, I say, “it’s okay Mom… sleep… I’ll be here when you wake up.” And she smiles, because she likes to have me there.
Eleven years ago, just down the hallway from where my mom now lies, I spent three weeks waiting for my baby to arrive. During that time of waiting, and then later when my baby died, a lot of people showed up and sat with me. I don’t remember much of what they said, but I remember that they were there. Just sitting. And listening. And sharing pieces of themselves with me. One in particular (my friend Stephanie) showed up for at least a brief visit nearly every day. When I had to go through the most excruciating experience of my life – birthing my dead son – she (together with my Mom & Marcel) sat with me and held my hand while I cried. I never needed her advice, but I sure did need her presence.
So often I forget that simple fact – that the best gift I can give people is often as simple as giving my presence and my time. We want to fix their problems, give them valuable advice, buy them memorable gifts, be a hero in some way… and yet, what they really value is the easiest (and the hardest) gift to give – ourselves.
This afternoon, think about who it is in your life that needs your presence. Just for today, withhold your advice and your solutions for their problems, and just show up. And believe that what you have to give them with that offering is worth more than you will ever know.
Yes, this urge to fix everything is completely understandable, yet how much greater the gift you talk about, because it’s not always easy for us to be present.
Heather,
This is so beautiful. My heart aches sometimes for the presence of love only. Just pure and simple love. And often that comes in the form of a moment of a silent and raw connection with another person, whether it be during a crisis or a daily undertaking. Thanks for sharing this with us.
Oh, Heather. Your words ring so true. This may sound odd, but you seem to have developed an ability to allow stress, hurt and fear to bring out the best in you. Thank you for sharing with all of us.
I have recently done alot of sitting and waiting, watching and wondering in either a hospital waiting room or on the ward waiting for my daughter. It is just her and I now after her father left, but I now that although I don’t have the means available to give her all the wonderful things we used to enjoy, but I do know that I spend time with her, much more valuable than anything money can buy.
I completely agree, Heather! Sometimes just being present is the very best gift we can give, and the most important thing that is needed of us (the one that makes all the difference).
Warmest wishes to you and your dear mom,
Shahrzad
Thank you Heather. I really appreciate your writings. You do have a way with words. This article is quite timely for me as well. On Tuesday we took Melanie to the Banff hospital to have surgery on her knee. That day we just sat with her whether she slept or was awake. On Wednesday we took her to her home in Revelstoke and since then we have been here for her, cooking meals, changing ice every 4 hours or sitting with her. It has been a very good experience for all of us.