Groups

I'm going to start by saying that it feels "wrong" to post another blog here. It feels wrong, because it feels like "life just goes on" even though my friend lost the most precious thing in the world, her little girl. It feels wrong. It feels callous. It feels like since her life has changed forever in the most heartbreaking way, there should be something else I can do for her. But I am really at a loss.

I can't even get to the funeral, though I'd really like to be there to give her a hug in person. And as she faces the days going on without Lydia, I'll be out here, far away, unable to even drop in with a cup of coffee and two ears.

So here I am, blogging. It seems wrong, but it soothes me. I actually wrote this the day after Lydia died, I sat there all evening writing it. This blog isn't even about Lydia, but it helped me somehow. I don't know why, but it did. I just couldn't post it... like I said, it seemed wrong somehow. It seemed like I should make my own life different in some way, as a show of solidarity.

But I can't just stop blogging, and I can't just stop doing all the other stuff I do. I'll have to keep doing it all now, cause I'll have to keep doing it all through my own tragedy too. So all I can say is "I'm so sorry Jen. I sure wish there was something, anything, I could do besides sit here and write my blog. If I could be there with you right now instead, I sure would. Please know that I am thinking of you often and every day." And that is all I got...

I was reading someone else's blog a while back. The author was commenting on how as a part of a couple without children, she didn't feel part of the "group" of friends who did already have children. That really made me think.

I mean, if she feels it, think what it is like for me! Cause I often don't feel like I fit in any where. I mean in groups of real people that I actually can see "in the flesh" so to speak. Yeah. I can't seem to find that illusive group that I would fit into when I go to some sort of mixer-type event.

I got an invitation in the mail to a workshop for parents of disabled children. It looked like a good workshop. But not really one I feel like I would easily fit into... I'm not really sure finding "tools to help you see the positives" is really where I am at. Or finding my child's place in the family. It's more like wondering how I will FILL the place, when he is gone.

It is pretty hard to find a group of people who have severely disabled children who have a degenerative disease that is slowly killing them, but not nearly slowly enough. At times it really feels like a race against time. If Joel seemed like he was a bit more 'mild' it would be different. But somehow I don't think that I'll get the chance to worry about wheelchair accessibility or IEPs at school. So it is hard to feel connected to the Society for Manitobans with Disabilities.

My sweet case worker reminded me about wheelchair accessible vans, and that there was overnight respite if we needed/wanted. It was hard to take that with out a bit of a laugh. I have a hard time believing that Joel will ever get big enough to need that wheelchair. And with feeling our time with him is so precious and precarious, I don't know if we'd ever have the ?? whatever it would take to actually leave him with strangers and go somewhere overnight.

There is a support group for parents who have lost a child. But I don't fit there yet. And I am really hoping I do still have a couple of years before I get there.

The only group I can really think of for parents of children who may be dying is the parents of the kids with cancer. Again, I don't fit.

Of course, when I write about all this, I am referring to belonging in a homogeneous group. The sort of grouping we tend to like best and gravitate towards. We feel most comfortable there. We feel understood and we feel safe. There sure can be benefits to this sort of group, especially when you are going through a really hard time. Then being understood, comfortable, and safe are all very helpful things.

For this, I am very grateful for my online support group. It is a real blessing to be with people who "get it" because they have been there too. They feel like family! It is the "homogeneous" group that I fit into, though we are all different in many other ways. Sharing such a major event would give anyone an instant bond.

On the other hand, I have always liked people who were different. In fact, when other people say "different," I usually hear "interesting." And when they say "strange," I usually hear "intriguing." And if they say "eccentric," I usually hear "fascinating." That might be because I have always felt a bit of an odd duck myself, through most of my life. I'm not sure I have ever really felt I totally fit into any homogeneous group of people. Hence I like other people who are also a little "wacky," (read endearing please!)

So here is a little plug for heterogeneous groups. They do have something special to offer. If you take a heterogeneous group of people who all share one similar passion and purpose, you might get some disagreements, but you will also have a force to be reckoned with. Because all those differences put together towards the same purpose can really round out a group of people and make it stronger and better. United by a common goal, weaknesses are neutralized and strengths are optimized. Not to mention, it sure can make life interesting!

And the best example of this I can think of in my own life is the Church. As in, all the followers of Jesus here on earth. It truly is such a diverse group. Single and married. White collar and blue. Every single colour of skin and eyes. All personality types and all sorts of life experiences. All united in a common purpose: learning how to be a follower of Christ. It is a place I also fit in, no matter what sort of experiences life brings me. It's family too!

My husband asked me a while back if I thought only people who faced losing a child could be my "best" friends. I don't think I believe that. I sure hope that I can look on anyone, single, married with healthy children, elderly, different in culture, with an open and listening heart. And when we do this, we sometimes find a bond with someone, despite different experiences. People are shaped by experiences, but we are so much more than just a sum of what we have been through!

A group is different, though. In a group, when we have nothing in common, we stick out. We can't seem to make any connections, because everyone else is already sharing a common one. No one wants to be that lonely little helium atom floating around in all that oxygen. Being the only different one in a homogeneous group is hard.

But friends can come to us one on one. There may be some connections we don't share, but no matter how different two people are, somewhere they are the same. Somewhere a bond can form.

And what truly counts when facing someone heart to heart, is not common experiences. What counts is opening ourselves up to share, being willing to be honest and vulnerable, and in return trying with all our heart to hear the other person, to learn who they are, and be willing to care about what is happening in their life.

So here is a word of gratitude for the groups I do fit in with!! They are a blessing! And here is a word of thankfulness for the wonderful friends I have, both those who have a dying child, and those whose open hearts give me the chance to be myself and share my heart, even though we are different. I'm glad for the people willing to get to know me, one on one. That truly is a great gift.