Power Of Community
Recently, I’ve been talking to a friend who is going through her own season of grief, loss, and heartbreak for what could be the end of her marriage. While trying to comfort her, I ended up reminding myself of the silver lining that came from my season of divorce: support, empathy and compassion from my community. It’s always been beautiful to me when your people show up for you at the darkest hour. Those are my people.
I told my friend that as she’s hurting she will also experience profound love and support from her community and her friends. It was heartwarming and astounding to me to experience the level of love and care I received through my divorce process, and continue to receive thereafter. Remembering it now brings tears to my eyes.
First, my sister flew out to California from Denver, Colorado, to be with me as I moved out of the home I shared with my ex-husband. She drove my packed car with my dog, Atlas, while I drove the U-haul to a new life and new city. She stayed with me for several days thereafter, decorating and fixing up my new space. I have a fond memory of her ripping down old plastic blinds and dragging them down the driveway of my temporary home. She had a look of determination. She was determined to help me, heal me, soothe my pain however she could.
What also sticks out from that time was how she followed me on the freeway and spoke on the phone with me the entire two-hour drive as I cried and sobbed. You know, the gasping-for-breath ugly-cry kind of sobbing. She offered me encouragement and affirmations, but more importantly, she just stayed on the line with me. She did that the whole drive away from my heartbreak, away from my old life. As you’ll come to find out, my little sister shows up for me in big, heroic ways.
Before pulling out of the driveway to my new life, I first had to had the privilege of going through the house, selecting and dividing belongings. Talk about a strange experience! Once boxes were packed, two of my closest friends and their spouses volunteered to “help me” load a U-haul. By “help me” what I mean is they basically cleared my house, organized, and loaded the U-Haul themselves with heavy boxes and heavy furniture, filling every nook and cranny with my life’s contents. What started as, “help me lift this heavy table,” turned into a full sweep and mission complete in a few short hours.
At the time, I was too numb and too focused on leaving to take it all in, the generous acts of love and kindness my people showed me. I even did the requisite belittling of my needs, feelings, and gravity of the situation by telling the same friends that I didn't need help with the move; or telling my sister that I could simply tow my car behind the U-haul. Pfff, who was I kidding?
To be honest, I very well could have managed all of that on my own. Sure, it would have required a little more elbow grease and more time. And, I recognize that I was incredibly privileged to be in the situation I was in, to have choices, resources, and support, and even to have a kind and amicable ending to our marriage. The point is that I had to let my armor down in order to be honest enough with myself and with my people to say “Yes, I do in fact need help.” It is a vulnerable place to be, to speak up and say you need someone. But in my case, I’m glad I let my sister and friends “force” their way in. I’m also glad I didn't have enough energy to resist or deny their requests to help me, to show up for me. I needed them. I still need them. That is but one of the many reasons I was able to stay whole.
