What not to say
June 5, 2008 | friendship
I was reading a friend’s blog today. She lost her husband 11 years ago. LeAnn shares how to be a friend when someone you care about faces a great loss. It’s full of helpful information and gentle insight.
Sixteen years ago I found out I had cancer. I remember friends rallying around me, and making life easier for Richard, me, and the kids. But I also remember fielding comments from a few that brought me to my knees–literally. It seemed like my life had changed over night. The doctors shared harsh statistics. I was going through chemo and radiation. Financially we were juggling all the new medical expenses and lack of my income as I went through treatment. Life was suddenly scary, but I wanted to face it with faith and confidence.
Some didn’t know what to say, I think, so they said things like this:
- My husband’s/uncle/father/mother/sister/dog’s/neighbor had cancer. They fought it to the bitter end. He suffered (put grisly details here), but just like you he had such faith–all the way to the end.
I’m not kidding. I heard so many stories of people who had cancer, people who died from cancer, their side effects from medication, etc.
What they didn’t know is that fear is such a part of the battle. Many times I left those who had just “encouraged” me and went to my room and fell to my knees, asking God to help me grapple with the weight crushing me from their words.
I didn’t want to talk about cancer. It’s not that I was in denial. I couldn’t be. It was my whole life at that moment between treatment, dr. visits, a changing body, surgeries, etc.
It’s that I was still Suzie.
Everything I loved the day before I found out I had cancer, I still loved.
I wanted to talk about those things. I wanted to laugh. I wanted every one to get rid of the sad faces around me.
And when I wanted to talk about cancer, or my fears, I would. But with faith. Regardless of the outcome, I knew that I was solidly in God’s hands. He was there during chemo. He was there when I heard the first diagnosis, and the scarier second and third reports. He was there during follow-up exams. He was there when I stood unclothed in the radiation room, vulnerable and unsure.
These are the things that helped me:
- humor - that may not work for every one, but I loved those friends who still laughed with me
- help - I will never forget those who took my children to a movie, mowed my lawn, fixed light meals, cleaned my home, drove me to a chemo session (and stayed with me)
- notes and letters - I still have them, and it will be 17 years in September
- honest encouragement - prayer, hugs, holding my hand, silence when they don’t know what to say, but their presence regardless
Thank you, LeAnn, for such a beautiful post. It reminded me one more time of how to be a friend during the tough times, and what not to say.
Suzie
RSS feed for comments on this post.
The URI to TrackBack this entry is:
http://www.tsuzanneeller.com/2008/06/05/what-not-to-say/trackback/
I do think most people only see 10% of the actual battle. Like the tip of the iceberg, so many people miss the pain going on inside.
Thank you for posting this, Suzie. It really encouraged me to reach out more.
Debbie
June 7th, 2008 at 7:27 pmHi Suzie,
This is my first time to your awesome blog! Oh my, your books all look GREAT! I’ll have to get one soon.
This was a great post.
I’m so blessed God brought people in your life to love and encourage you. I like that you keep your faith when talking about the cancer.
My son was dx with a brain tumor at 16. We’ve been there. He’s now a survivor like you. God has been so good.
I’ll be back to visit again.
So nice to meet you♥
June 10th, 2008 at 9:01 pm