A Burden Shared...

It is hard to see anyone that you care about suffer and not be able to do much about it. Now that I am a parent, I understand how much my own parents sometimes set limits to keep me from being hurt. At the time, I thought they were being unfair. It is hard to watch a loved one battle a disease or illness and not be able to make them better somehow. It is hard to watch a friend go through trials and tribulations that make your teeth grind in anger and your heart ache. It is almost harder to watch another person’s pain than it is to experience it yourself... almost.

The creative person inside me always wants to try to find a solution or way of helping to make the problem better. The reality is that sometimes, the only way to help is in other small, indirect ways. A note, a hug, a word of support, an offer to share a meal. Tonight I may not be able to carry any of my friends’ burdens, but at least I can let them know that I am here. The perception that a burden is shared often helps to make it feel lighter, even if you know that you are still the one carrying it. I must go and reread that poem Footprints in the Sand...