There’s a thin line between pity and support.
One of the many fears I developed after I lost my mom, and later my grandma, was whether or not those around me would pity me, or see me as just my losses. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t come across those who saw it as baggage or made me feel awkward for being so open about it all. I’d also be lying if I said I was completely past the fear; I’m not.
Sometimes I’m so in my head that it makes it hard for me to see the actions of those around me. For instance, a few weeks ago I celebrated my first birthday without my grandmother. I was sad and plagued with the thoughts that because only one person had said the words “I’m sure you miss your mom and grandma today,” that everyone else just thought I was fine because it’s what I projected.
Then my friends, without previously agreeing to, all gave me birthday presents that were along the lines of, “It’s going to be okay.” (Read here to find out how filling up a mason jar with positive thoughts can help a friend who’s lost a loved one.)
They didn’t know it because I hadn’t said the words, but with their presents they did a couple of things for me: (1) They made it okay for me to have a bad day. (2) They showed me that even when I don’t verbalize it, they know I have low moments.
I love them every moment for this.
