Joy in Connection...

There is such joy in connecting with people.  Even mentally ill people.  Even people who are struggling.  One of my favorite memories happened when I worked in Geriatric Psychiatry on a locked psych unit.  We had a patient who was depressed.  A woman who was dealing with physical deterioration and had become depressed as a result.  I remember being extraordinarily impressed with her physical beauty.  Even though elderly, she was sweet and feminine.  You could see the years, but you could also see her spirit.  One of the most difficult things for an older adult to accept is that someone will need to help them with the basics of self-care.  I was assisting this patient to change her Depends diaper because she couldn’t do it herself.  And I quickly learned that distraction helped people get through what was truly an embarrassing moment.  So, distract I did.

This woman had been widowed after a long and apparently successful marriage to a man who was originally from France.  That fact was probably part of her depression.  So, knowing that, I chose to open a conversation while I helped her.  I asked her whether French men were really better lovers.  After a momentary embarrassed look on her face, I got a very enthusiastic YES!  And we talked about her husband and how much she loved him.  That was the most conversation I ever had with her.  She was usually very quiet and reserved. A year or so after I left the inpatient psych unit, I read her obituary in the paper.  I had been so touched by the conversation, I was struck with the thought that she still lived through me.  I carried her in my heart.

This goes to the heart of one of the most significant lessons I have ever learned.  Connection is rewarding.  It is the life-blood of human relationships.  And it makes even the most difficult times more pleasant.  Even through all the pain and difficulty of growing up in my household, the best times of my life occurred in connecting with my Dad.  He used to tease me a lot because he got great joy out of his relationship with me.  We talked openly and honestly.  And I always felt like he wanted to get to know ME…the person who was his daughter.  He used humor to do that sometimes.  One time, I was wearing a pair of platform shoes because that was the style at the time.  And I really loved the fact that they made me taller, because I am about 5”1.  So, my Dad and I were conversing one day, face to face, and he got a confused look on his face.  Then he looked down at my feet.  And laughed.  Then he said,  I couldn’t understand why you were tall.  Which made me laugh, because his side of the family made me short.  A small incident.  But it was meaningful to me.  And that connection shares a place in my heart with the interaction with the woman that I met in the psych facility many years later.  

Coping skill?  Recognize and build connections.  Find the joy at even the most difficult times.  Look for the love.  You have a limited time in which to do so.  Life is short.