There's a moment to help, isn't there?
Often, it's right there in front of you, and you don't step forward.
Door opens a little bit, and you don't go through it, and it closes and then you wish it had.
Pay attention.
Learning to know when is really critical and it sets you apart from the people who never learn.
I tell this story all the time to people, but I don't think I've ever told it here.
I was travelling home from University one day in the car with my two friends (one of my friends drove us back and forth to Glasgow for money for 4 years)
As we drove along the road to my house, my dad was stood outside the front gate. My dad was never home before 7 p.m. at night.
I knew something was wrong. I told my friends I knew something was wrong.
The car stopped, the door opened, he popped his head in and said, “Do any of you boys know (person's name removed)?”
They didn't, so he sent them on their way and I got out.
My dad told me that one of my best friend's mums had died the night before at the Sunday dinner table.
Head hit the table ‘bang’ aneurysm… dead.
He told me that I would be going up to the house right now to see my friend and the family.
In Scotland, after a Catholic dies, they have an open coffin most of the time.
You go up and there's a dead person lying in the coffin and you pay your respects.
I told my dad I wasn't going under any circumstances.
He told me I was.
One thing I always remember about my dad is that he was never stern, never super strict, never demanding. He was then.
What he told me is something that I'll live by for the rest of my life.
He said to me, “Do you think you can possibly make this worse, do you think you might be able to make it a tiny, tiny bit better?”
It was arrogant of me to think about myself then and believing that me going up there might make it worse or, my opinion of what was happening might be significant in any way amid the carnage that had happened to that family.
And so, I went and it was appreciated.
Just a tiny little bit in the middle of the chaos and the grief and the awfulness.
It marked me and I never forgot it.
Very recently I met someone who'd just lost a close family member.
It was obvious that lots of people around just did not know what to do, but there was a moment, and so I went to him and gave him a hug.
And I just said “I’m sorry for what's happened to your family” and I left him.
How could that ever make it worse?
It probably can't make it better, but sometimes all you've got is just to sit in the mud with someone, not really speaking, just being.
Knowing when to step in, it's a gift, isn't it?
Well, it's not, it’s learned.
Teach your children.
Blog Post Number – 4270
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