Being There

Today as I arrived at Lieberman, a group of developmentally disabled young adults was leaving. Not sure but perhaps they were visiting with residents on the assisted living floors.

As I was waiting for the elevator, one young man appearing very sad and holding the hand of his supervisor passed me. As they passed they paused and the young man told me, "My father died." The supervisor nodded signifying that he was telling the truth.

I said, "I am so sorry to hear that."

"Can I tell you what happened?"

"Sure. Please do."

There was a pause as he continued to shed tears and cry silently thinking about what he wanted to tell me. "He was sick and then he died. I am very sad."

"I am so sorry to hear that. I know you must be very sad." As I said that he leaned his head on my chest and I automatically stroked his head." This only lasted for a few seconds but it was quite meaningful for both the young man and for me.

"Thank you. I am so sad," he said.

"I know. Thank you for telling me." They slowly walked towards the front door and the waiting school busses.

Meaningful.

Meaningful perhaps to the young man because he was able to express his sadness, because someone wanted to listen to him, because my being old he could relate to me as if I was his father?

Meaningful to me because I am still able to walk into difficult situations with love and support and to be there for others no matter how heavy my heart may be, there is always room for more heaviness when it can help another.