These difficult days will pass and all we will remember is how we responded to such tests

 Dear Son,

You asked me some questions last night that really made me think. I’m not sure of the answers but I wanted you to know what I think and why. Then, at least you can make your own decisions in the light of that. Please don’t see this as advice. I wouldn’t presume. But I do care too deeply for you not to respond when you ask.

People do take advantage of other's kindness. Sometimes through thoughtlessness, sometimes because of their own agenda and occasionally because they’re not used to it. Every time it hurts. Especially when you do something in a spirit of kindness and others respond with disdain or just more expectations. They can even respond with anger as if you offered them a smack instead of the hand of friendship. Life is too short to examine all these responses and to understand the why of it. Better by far to move on.

If you are pulling people out of a bad place keep going. Don’t stop to argue with someone who resents that you did them a good turn. Whether they feel small, embarrassed, self-preoccupied, angry or frustrated is neither here nor there. If you did good, it is because it is in you to do so. Don’t expect it in others. They may not have it in their own lives and so cannot give it to others.

Life passes so quickly and good nature can easily be broken on the backs of mean spirits. So, don’t linger. Don’t be taken advantage of, just move on. Everyone you meet will teach you something, if only not to past too near again!

Then there are the tyrants. Those twisted so much that your kindness is not just wasted on them it is bad for them. Kindness to such types empowers and enables them to do even more damage. We have a responsibility not to reward their acts of abuse because the next one they torment needs you to stand firm. You must have the courage, in such circumstances, to hold the line like the 300 Spartans of old. You do this not out of dislike of them but because you know that giving in to a tyrant will merely perpetuate the abuse. At such times I think of all the victims of abuse I have known. Do you remember young George flinching at our table from the sound of a banging van door? In the face of such abuse, I steel myself to screw up my courage within me. What can we do? We are nothing really but, whatever it is we are capable of being at that moment, we must strive to be that. Because on the backs of tiny pebbles the great sea waves crash! We are such pebbles and despite the power of the waves, we remain. Know that long after they have smashed and raged and broken we will remain. We were created to bear and endure. Let them do their worst because we need to focus on doing our very best.

Let’s not be distracted by their activities. We have deeds to do, mighty deeds. Time is short, too short. Life passes by so quickly and the only things we will remember are all those who we love or who loved us. Grab such souls to you. Remember their sweetness and steady your stance. The hordes are coming. Stand fast, dear heart. There is no one I’d rather have at my side in the face of injustice. You have a keen poet’s eye and see to the real heart of things. Trust in such vision, believe the courage that lies within and search for truth always.

These difficult days will pass and all we will remember is how we responded to such tests.  That will be either our lasting regret or our legacy.  Know the importance of such choices.

Thanks for asking, for talking and for being you.

Building muscle memory in your heart

Grief is a process as unique as each individual who loses someone. There will always be a need for patience. It takes time to assimilate death. The loss is too final, too immense. The emotions are like powerful waves that must be weathered.  Don't rely on outward appearances. People swallow down loss in a variety of ways. It can be those who feel that the most, show it less. Often those with the most regrets and guilt are the ones throwing themselves into the grave whereas the quietness of a long time carer can mask an ocean of heart stopping grief. Don't tell them stuff like “it's for the best”, “he had his day”, “You couldn't have done more”, “I am shocked by what happened”. We either turn to verbal diarrhoea at such times or find it impossible to say anything and avoid the bereaved like lepers from an alien zone.  Find a better and more moderate path.

When Mandela was in prison and received the shocking news that his son had been killed in a car accident, he lay on his back in his prison bunk felled by the news. His close friend came and sat beside the bed, saying nothing but holding his hand through the long dark hours. Knowing that nothing can be done to fix what has happened, one realises words will not suffice. Where there is love you must offer your presence and find ways to let that love show. In the most barren and stark conditions that seed of love must be sown and shown. Expect anger, pain and blame. Weather the storm. Those emotions are better out than in. Bare your share in respect to those who have lost so much and in honour of those who have passed on. Such tests assail the very soul. Find whatever nobility you can muster to hold the breech between what the bereaved cannot bear and what they must. Give yourself time to master such skills. Summoning the courage to step up when every part of you wants to run is vital. Whatever strength you find will build muscle memory in your own heart. Don't avoid it. Death comes to us all. Prepare yourself to be worthy of a good death. Both your own and those you lose along the way. 

PS I like this poem, below, by Maya Angelou on the topic.

When I Think Of Death

When I think of death, and of late the idea has come with alarming frequency, I seem at peace with the idea that a day will dawn when I will no longer be among those living in this valley of strange humors.
I can accept the idea of my own demise, but I am unable to accept the death of anyone else.
I find it impossible to let a friend or relative go into that country of no return.
Disbelief becomes my close companion, and anger follows in its wake.
I answer the heroic question 'Death, where is thy sting? ' with ' it is here in my heart and mind and memories.'