Independence is a heck of a noun

“The most courageous act is still to think for yourself.”
― Coco Chanel 

I’m guilty of thinking I know what someone needs.  Isn’t that ridiculous?  Even embarrassing?  It is to me.

I’ve realized how ridiculous I’ve been lately, wanting to protect friends in their late 70’s through 90’s from harm.  Seriously, Rena.  They’ve made it this far without you.  My goodness the ego.

It may seem silly, but it’s not.  It’s about my wish to keep them here for as long as possible.

When my Dad was going through boxes to ready the house for sale, it was grueling work. Dad slowly and steadily went through files and files and came out tired, and comfortable with what he chose to keep.  Throwing away 50 years of marriage memorabilia, even if it’s an old plane ticket, can be painful.  Dad honored his life, marriage, love for Mom and the house itself by slowly reliving or shredding.  Meanwhile I was all “Can I help?  Have you eaten?  How about some sleep, have you slept?”  It’s true he was running himself ragged, but it’s what he needed to do to get through it.

Now that gets my attention.  Compassion comes so easily when we climb inside someone’s experience for a few minutes.

Independence is a noun, but what a noun.  It can mean self–sufficiency, self-dependence, self-reliance, self-subsistence, self-support – it’s all about the Self.  With people who are older than me, sometimes I want to scream, “Let me help you!”  I have to stop and remind myself that they know more than I do, they certainly know what they need, and sometimes independence is more important than anything else.

There are times when the most compassionate thing we can do is to let people live their lives on their own terms, even if it’s hard for us to watch, feeling helpless and scared.

Our job is love them.