Life is bearable because there is hope

A friend of mine died of leukemia a few months ago. He retired about three years ago and then was suddenly taken ill. Two weeks ago, I went with a colleague to visit his widow. She treated us at a restaurant to dim sum, a customary meal of local Chinese people.

Sundays are family days, and many families go for morning dim sum together. If your friends are visiting, they will be treated, as well. The widow’s son, daughter-in-law and 1-year-old granddaughter were all there. She seemed to be coping well, and we chatted away merrily. Soon, it was time to leave, and she came with us to the minibus stop to see us off. Suddenly, she told us, “I still miss him terribly,” and then burst into tears.

Life must be unbearable for her, because they were married for almost four decades and were very close. My colleague tried to comfort her by asking her to be brave, and to think of her current responsibilities of looking after the rest of her family and her granddaughter. We were in a public place and didn’t really have the chance to talk in depth. She stopped sobbing, and then we parted.

After I got home, I kept thinking of her—her grief and her loss. I wrote her a card. I wish I had had more time and been in a quieter place with her, so that she could cry her heart out. I wish I had had the courage to stop my colleague from talking. The woman needed a chance to express her true feelings.

As a nurse, I am expected to know how to therapeutically communicate with people in need. But, sometimes, I find myself tongue-tied, especially when I am with friends. I do not pretend to know how other people feel, because I don’t. I can’t. I can only imagine. But every individual’s experience is private and special. Nobody else can experience something in the exact same manner. Often, it is good enough simply to be there and listen. Let the person’s grief flow out. It is only in companionship that we feel supported. It is only in telling that we start to heal.

I often tell my students it is unnecessary to fill every moment with sounds when you are with a patient. The ability to tolerate needed silence in a conversation says much about a person’s skills in communication.

Although I am concerned about my friend’s wife, who is now a widow, I think time will be her best friend. The family is close, and she finds immense joy in playing an important part in her granddaughter’s life. In a young life, one can see joy and hope. We can find pure joy in simple matters in a child. Looking at him or her, we see hope for a happier, better future.

Life becomes bearable because there is hope.

For Reflections on Nursing Leadership (RNL), published by the Honor Society of Nursing, Sigma Theta Tau International.