Sharing

Some people are very private and share little of their inner angst.  There are certainly enough idioms to support this view. "Don't air your dirty linen in public." "Keep your skeletons in the closet." "Keep it behind closed doors."  There's dozens of them that encourage people to put on a happy face even though inside they might be feeling frightened or alone. And while that might be one road to take, I've usually taken the opposite trail.

When Ben was diagnosed with ALS, I was beyond crazed. At the time, we lived in Dodgeville on one hundred acres. I remember hiking down to the meadow and screaming at the trees in frustration and anger. Afterwards, my throat hurt and I felt as miserable as I did before.

I had a job as the Director of the Family Resource Center in Iowa County which brought me to town every day. I met neighbors and friends on a daily basis and as I walked around the town, whoever greeted me in the usual way of asking how I was, received the bitter answer. "Ben has ALS." For a minute, I ruined their day, but then they could go on about their business, thankful their lives were, by contrast, pretty good.

What did sharing this bitter news do for me? Oddly enough, I felt less alone and slept a little better. Others were caring about Ben and the Byer family. For those that had no idea what ALS was, I explained why this fatal disease is so devastating. Sharing lightened my load and improved my days and nights.

At yearly doctor visits, we're asked if we've fallen in the last six months and is our appetite good. I'd like to see them add questions like these. 'Who do you turn to for support?' or 'Are you lonely?'  That might open a door that has been shut for generations. 

In this last fifth of my life, my world has shrunk. Sometimes I think mine would fit into a thimble. I'm concerned less about my children and grandchildren, and more about how I will exit this world. I spend hours staring at the lake, enjoying my rocking chair, knitting, writing, reading. Every week I share a thought or a story about how I'm feeling in the moment. Th
en I worry that it's too personal. Then I hear from some of my readers that they feel a connection to me. Such a wonderful gift to receive. 

Dodgeville, 2002