Ummm... what to say

Several years ago, my friend Paul Winter (not the more famous one) called me and told me that his doctor had discovered a melanoma in his hairline.  He was a kitchen remodeler and we had always talked about one day fixing up my kitchen together.  I would pay for materials and his time and I’d also be his assistant.  Paul pointed out that soon he would be going through some serious chemotherapy and it would be good to do this project while he still had some strength.  I was so grateful that we had those three or four days together.  We enjoyed philosophical discussions, ate good food and I ultimately ended up with a much-improved kitchen.  I remember that he talked about being grateful for cancer because it opened him up to the beauty and precious nature of daily living. At the end of the project, I brought a fruit basket to his house, hung out with him and his family for a while and offered the requisite, “Let me know if there is anything I can do”.  And I meant it.

Time slipped by and I thought of Paul often.  I considered calling him but deep inside I feared the possibility of hearing bad news and so I gave myself the excuse, “no news is good news”.  But in this particular case, “no news” turned out to be bad news. More than a year went by and I was shocked to one day read his obituary in the newspaper.  How could this be?  How did I let so much time pass by without checking in even once?  How is it that I didn’t know he was dying? The grief hit me hard and the shame hit me harder.

I think that now I understand that Paul was never sitting around in pain wondering, “I wonder if Chuck will call me today?”  If he had needed me, he truly would have called.  I know he would have greatly enjoyed a visit from me but I’m also sure his remaining life was rich with profound moments, in spite of the fact that I was not there to share them.  No, it was not about him needing me, it was more about whether I needed him.  All of his moments were precious and mine, by comparison, were mundane.  It was I who missed out on an opportunity to really experience the incredible company of an excellent a human being during a transformative time of life.

Unlike Paul, I will survive this period of ill health.  That is the plan anyway and the odds continue to swing in my favor.  I only bring up this story of Paul Winter because I recognize the awkwardness of reaching out to someone who you know has been diagnosed with a life-threatening disease.  You don’t call or write or visit because you have no idea what you will say and you are afraid to broach the inevitable subject.  God forbid you get lost in small talk!

Being on this end of the awkward conversation, I now understand and I think I can offer a service to all of you who are just like I was.  Some tips:

1.     It is really OK if you don’t write or call or visit.  Really!  I won’t think any less of you.  I’ve got plenty of things to do and not one of those things is worrying about who has or hasn’t contacted me. I know that you care!  If I truly do need to hear from you, I am capable of reaching out.

2.     It’s perfectly OK to acknowledge the elephant in the room.  In fact, start there.  It gets much easier after that.  Get it out of the way and then we can talk about regular stuff.

3.     If you do want to reach out to me, little is good.  I don’t need a grand gesture, a long visit, an epic phone call, or an explanation of why it took you so long.  Whether it is a little note or an email or a card, small connections are all super welcome.  Knowing that people are thinking of me is a bonus that makes me feel good.  More isn’t necessarily better.  In fact, a long phone call or visit may be more exhausting than it is helpful.  Look for cues that it may be time to say goodbye until next time.

4.     Say, “If there is anything I can do, let me know.”  It is an expected thing to say, and if you are my friend, I’ll know it is genuine.  There is a 95% chance that I will not need anything from you but it makes us both feel good.  No need to apologize about it being a trite cliché. We need something to say in these situations and that one works pretty well.

5.     It’s meaningful to know that you are praying for me.   But skip the sermonizing. I’m agnostic so your prayers work just as well whether you are Christian, a Muslim, a Buddhist a Hindu or a fellow-agnostic just sending good vibes my way.  (Atheists, if you can't manage faking "good vibes", send soup.) I don’t believe that there is an omnipotent being deciding on my fate depending on how many faithful are pleading my case.  But I do have a sense that spiritual energy is a good thing in any form.  And if things do go our way, it strengthens our connection to the spirit and that helps us all be better people.  So keep the prayers coming!

I’m really glad that I had the opportunity to know Paul Winter.  I am incredibly grateful that I had those few special days with him, working on my kitchen.  I do wish I had had a few more hours to spend with him.  But now I know that between us, I am the only one with regrets about not hanging with him towards the end.  He cared about me as a friend but he very likely never, not once, felt miffed that I didn’t call.  He had much more important ways to spend his time.