This morning, as I drove to work, I found myself deeply moved by an audiobook recommended by a friend: “The Amen Effect” by Sharon Brous. In the opening chapters, she reflects on her grandmother’s powerful rule about the importance of showing up—not just during moments of joy, but also in times of sorrow. Her words resonated with me, reminding me of a lesson I learned from my mom.
I vividly recall the weeks leading up to my wedding when my mom reached out to friends who had expressed their regrets about attending, citing the challenges of traveling from Boston to Arizona during a busy work season. She was direct and clear about her feelings: “If you would show up for my funeral, then you should show up for my celebration; don’t just show up when I’m dead.” Her words must have resonated, as her friends quickly changed their RSVPs and booked their flights.
Listening to Sharon recount her own experience, I felt a wave of emotion, I makeup at least in part because my mom is no longer alive. She passed away only five years after my wedding, far too early, and her funeral was one of the largest gatherings I have ever attended. On that day, there was no doubt that people showed up—including those wedding guests I mentioned.
In my work as a therapist, the concept of showing up—especially during challenging times of grief, sadness, and hurt—is fundamental to fostering empathy. I often share a metaphor with those I work with: when your partner, friend, or family member is in pain, imagine they are adrift in a sinking boat in the middle of the ocean. While you may have done the hard work to make it to dry land, or maybe you’ve been there all along, it can feel like you’re standing on the shore, looking out at them and saying, “Come on! It’s so much better over here! Join me! I’m even happy to help you do the hard work of getting ashore. What I can’t do, however, is get into that boat with you—especially if I was the one who put you there in the first place. Why? Well, your hurt, your pain, your discomfort, is just too much for me to handle.” While undoubtedly challenging, it is important to understand that ultimately, what we need as human beings in times of hardship, as much as in times of happiness, is someone to show up, and not by fixing the problem or making it go away. Showing up means swimming out to that boat and being willing to stay there for as long as it takes for our loved ones to be ready to come out themselves. It’s about laughing, crying, and screaming together, ensuring they don’t have to shoulder their burdens alone.
As I sat in my car this morning, tears streaming down my face, I was tempted to turn off the audiobook—a literal attempt to turn down the volume of my own grief. But as I reached for the pause button, I considered the importance of not just showing up for others, but also for myself. Slowly, I lowered my hand and made my choice. Instead of abandoning myself in that moment of sadness, I chose to consider my need for someone to show up and decided to come alongside of myself.
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