From Connections, Chronic Pain Support Group newsletter, Summer/Fall 2004
I have learned much about community from my daughter-in-law. She was only 10 when her mother died suddenly from an aneurysm. With no chance even to say goodbye, this grieving family of four daughters and their father was left to cope with their loss.
But they did not bear their pain alone. The parents of the children in the school the girls attended reached out to this family. Every night for two years, one or another of these good people brought supper to these four girls and their father.
As in any other American family, these parents struggled with children’s schedules, teens’ moods, and the demands of a fast-paced American life. I am sure that there were times when mothers and fathers returned from work weighed down from lack of sleep, too many things to do, and a family of their own to care for. Yet for two solid years, these families continued their provisions for another in need. And every night the grateful father and daughters ate the offering that nourished both body and heart.
These good neighbors provided the grieving family with much more than food. They filled this family’s hollow spaces with gifts of love, compassion, concern, and caring.
And that is why many very special people received invitations to share the joyful wedding of a daughter of the community when one of the girls—now a young woman—married.
At every meeting of the Chronic Pain Support Group I see that sense of community in action among us. Everyone shares a word of encouragement, a shoulder to cry on, a nod of understanding. Those who are farther along in the journey provide wisdom not found in books. They describe their discoveries of how to cope. More than once, group members have attended funerals, delivered fruit and goody baskets, visited hospital rooms, and sent cards to offer cheer to other members. The latest effort is a box of items collected for a member’s son in Iraq.
For those naysayers who bemoan that we Americans have lost touch with our communities, nothing could be further from the truth. Our sense of community is alive and well, perhaps not defined by geography, but nevertheless valid and valuable. That sense of community is to be treasured—for the gifts it brings those who give as well as those who receive.