Today I Had a Damp Shoulder. Why It's So Important to Just Listen
Old for This Sh*t: How to Take Your Life Back from an Ageist Society
On being Mika, being Piglet, and letting things be sad
The day started normally at 4 am, with an easy two-hour trip to Portland to see my best friend who is also my Power of Attorney. My other bestie, Melissa, and I began our day, as we always do, with a call before 6 am her time in Denver.
Melissa works for the GSA. You can imagine that the last few weeks have been very, very tough on her. She was up in the air about accepting what I believe to be a poor-faith fake offer of early retirement. Then she decided to stay and tough it out.
She’s 67. Scared. Needs the money. So do lots of people. She’d just gotten to the point where she could afford to travel again. Had just lost a great love, so travel was really looking like a great way to recover.
Her life is upside down, as it is for tens of thousands. As we began to close down our conversation, she was in tears.
It takes a lot to get my friend Melissa to cry. She’s a rock, and is ever a rock for others. When she cries, she’s hit a wall.
Mika, my pupper, leaned her head against my right arm as I drove. I rubbed her warm ears as she slept, worrying about my friend. Mika worried about me. Mika is my Piglet.
Then I called my cousin in Florida. Her daughter has Non-Hodgkin lymphoma and as well as another kind of aggressive cancer leaving tumors on her liver.
They’ve been estranged for two years. My cousin just found out that her daughter is refusing traditional treatment and is heading to Mexico for holistic treatment. She’s traveling alone.
Unfortunately, all too often that doesn’t end well. My cousin left multiple messages and texts trying to get her daughter to allow her mother to accompany her. That exchange didn’t end well, either.
Estranged from her only daughter, unable to be with her at the worst time of her life, desperate to be useful and terrified of the outcome, she’s lost.
She was a rock through her husband’s cancer and death, a rock through all the other losses in her life. Now she’s hit a wall.
My cousin wept. I listened. Reminded her that all she can do is love. That doesn’t feel like it’s near enough. She sits in her house next to the phone hoping for a call that’s not likely to come.
After breakfast with my bestie in Portland, where I had a chance to talk business and laugh a few times, I headed back home. Mika had a few Extra Special Treats for her willingness to quietly wait in the car while mom did business. Mika also laid her sweet head on my forearm while I listened to my friends cry.
Dogs know. They are our Piglets.
On the way home, I received a heartbreaking text from a friend whose husband is in terrible shape after a surgery. Without going into detail, let’s just say that the medical community she was counting on left her and her husband in the lurch for days while he is fighting for his life with a potentially fatal complication.
A complication the surgeon was warned about, and ignored.
As soon as I called, she broke into tears.
I felt utterly helpless. Each one of these incredibly strong women was at a breaking point. One, facing the loss of her job and her options. Another, the loss of a daughter. And another, the loss of a husband.
All of this is happening in the maelstrom of what’s swirling around us. Normal places to lean into have collapsed. Institutions are falling down, people are crumbling with them.
I tried my best to be like Mika. Be Piglet. Three of the most wonderful women in my life, all facing huge losses, all in tears.
Sometimes all you can do is bear witness, be willing to hear, not try to fix or judge or do any damned thing.
Just listen.
To that, this lovely interpretation of a Pooh story:
“Piglet” said Pooh. “Yes,” said Piglet. “I’m scared,” said Pooh.
For a moment there was silence. “Would you like to talk about it,” asked Piglet, when Pooh didn’t appear to be saying anything further.
“I’m just so scared,” blurted out Pooh, “so anxious, because I don’t feel like things are getting any better. If anything, I feel like they might be getting worse. People are angry because they are so scared and they’re turning on one another and there seems to be no clear plan out of here and I worry about my friends and the people I love and I wish so much that I could give them all a hug. And, oh, Piglet, I am so scared and I cannot tell you how much I wish it wasn’t.”
So Piglet was thoughtful as he looked out at the blue of the skies, peeping between the branches of the trees in the hundred acre wood and listened to his friend.
“I’m here.” He said simply. “I hear you, Pooh, and I’m here.”
For a moment Pooh was perplexed. “But aren’t you going to tell me not to be so silly that I should stop getting myself into a state and pull myself together that it’s hard for everyone right now?” “No,” said Piglet quite decisively. “No, I am very much not going to do any of those things.”
“But,” said Pooh,
“I can’t change the world right now,” continued Piglet. “And I’m not going to patronize you with platitudes about how everything will be okay, because I don’t know that. What I can do, though, Pooh, is, I can make sure that you know that I am here and that I will always be here to listen and to support you and for you to know that you are heard. I can’t make those anxious feelings go away, not really, but I can promise you that all the time I have breath left in my body, you won’t ever need to feel those anxious feelings alone.”
And it was a strange thing because, even as Piglet said that Pooh could feel some of those anxious feelings start to loosen their grip on him, could feel one or two of them start to slither away into the forest, cowed by his friend who sat there solidly next to him.
Pooh thought he had never been more grateful to have Piglet in his life.
Excerpt inspired by Winnie-the-Pooh, a 1926 children's book by A. A. Milne.
To listen is to love. To hear, and not try to fix, but to truly bear witness, is to love deeply.
Mika is my Piglet. To the best of my ability, I do my best to be the Piglet to those I dearly love.
May all of us have a Piglet, who doesn’t mind a damp shoulder.
Please consider supporting my work and becoming a paid subscriber. Thank you for reading. I hope you have a Piglet in your life.
Thank you for this reminder, Julia. There is so much sadness all around us, and often inside of us. The temptation looms large to try to fix and advise (because it makes us feel better) when instead what is needed is The Sacrament of Piglet. Listen. Let it be. Love and accept them. Allow yourself to feel your feelings but more importantly, allow those in pain to feel theirs. Sometimes we have to allow our hearts to be broken when we're loving others well through the darkest times of their lives. Someday that will be us who need the Sacrament of Piglet.
I'm sorry you encountered so much sadness, seemingly all at once. But I'm glad for those women who had the good luck to have you as their Piglet — the best and most useful being you can be at such times. And thank goodness for Mika.