I think we’ve all been in a position when everyone around us – once they are briefed on a situation – advertises the requisite “let me know if I can do anything.”
News flash…don’t ask. JUST DO IT.
I don’t know about you, but I have serious trouble asking anyone for help. My wiring is such that I would rather rework the choreography of a problem than seek assistance. I have driven myself to the hospital with a fractured ankle. I unboxed and dragged a projection television down a flight of basement stairs. I changed out a bad power switch in a treadmill. I’m a doer, not an asker.
My relationship with my husband has been littered with opportunities to solicit help from others. We cared for his mother following a stroke. My beloved has had seven surgeries…several of them major…since we met. I know every doctor in South Jersey, but never have I reached out and asked for assistance from anyone.
This time is different. I’m older. Yuck. I’m doing both his job and mine until he is back on his feet. I’m exhausted from driving from Marlton to Vineland to Penn and back again.
I finally snapped and reached out for help…with our dogs.
We have three. It sounds like a lot, but in my fantasy-crazy-dog-lady-world I would have a few more. Anyway, they are pretty well behaved, but they need to be let out to potty more than once every twelve hours. All my planning goes to shit when something like traffic or work demands mess with my schedule.
Enter my longtime friend Cindy, Celina, the Trenton cop who cleans our house every other week, and our niece Kaitlin. Over the last two weeks I’ve had to humble myself and ask each of them to find the hidden house key and let the pups out because I just can’t get home in time.
Why am I bringing this up? So that the next time you find yourself uttering the words “let me know what I can do to help”, don’t just say it….mean it. JUST DO IT.
Drop off a bottle of wine. Stop and grab take-out Chinese or a pizza and leave it on the doorstep. Ask where the hidden key is and let the dogs out. Try to understand that being a caregiver is one of the most frustrating, exhausting and depressing positions imaginable.
Oh, and flowers are always the answer.
WeilStyle 