May the door always be open…Welcome

Have you ever wondered who you would turn to in case of your world falling apart? Or even if you simply needed to not be alone?

Oh no! I forgot about your five hundred Facebook friends!

For some that may be a solution. It doesn’t work for me. For one, being a parent and a teacher, I recognise the importance of measuring my words. I also recognise the eyes and ears on me hope I might have some answers (though I never hide that I don’t). Add to that, some adults in my circle count on me to be able to handle whatever comes my way.  I need a different solution than social media in times of trouble. I actually  kind of need a hug when things are bad, so I need eyes to look into and arms to hold me. I need a place to go.

So this is who I am. I am married. I have children. I have a job (with some pretty amazing colleagues). I have an extended family. I have friends.

Out of respect for the love I have for the people of each of these groups, I have always tried to keep my worlds apart. If ever I need to vent, I try to make sure the person who I vent to will not meet the person I need to vent about. With that in mind, I end up keeping a lot to myself.

I have, over the years, been face to face with a few difficult situations or needing a place to go. I didn’t always know where to turn. When the kids were big enough, I would sometimes take a walk. During my walk, I would try to be my own counsel and clear my head. I have been known to journal which can be pages of venting.

Many years ago, when I was only responsible for myself, I did have a moment that my strategies were simply not enough. On that occasion, I simply could not go home to my empty apartment. You see, my then boyfriend, now husband, was not home that evening. He was a little busy in the intensive care unit after a ten hour brain surgery done on him while he was awake. It seems even knowing he was okay, in great pain and unable to speak, but still okay compared to what we were told we could expect, I couldn’t be alone. I went to a few places to give people news. The place I ended up staying at was at my parents’ house.

It is only now that I realise I felt the most welcome in the house where I felt understood. It was the place where in coming in, I was enveloped in a big bear hug and was asked how our JM was doing. I didn’t have to explain my worries, fears or that he was important to me. It was clearly understood and respected by my folks. That is where I stopped. The couch is where I slept so I could cuddle with the dog.

I have on a few occasions had someone show up on our doorstep unexpectantly. I am sad to admit what ran in the back of my mind was that my house was messy. Despite that, we invited the person in.

I needed to remind myself how I would feel if I were in their shoes. Having already been in their shoes, it was none too hard.

If my world were truly falling apart and I showed up on your doorstep, I promise I wouldn’t notice if your house was messy or your attire not of the latest style. I would notice if you took me in.

I wish for you the deep knowledge someone will always open the door for you, day or night, without judgement or question.  I wish for you the sense that you can speak openly and feel supported knowing that what you say stays there and is recognised as a need to vent or to verbalise your thoughts to better understand a difficult situation. I wish for you a great hug, if that is what is needed.

Who would you turn to? Where would you go?