Everybody wants to be the cavalry, riding to the rescue.
I’ve been on a few of those rides. Once, a woman in our Sunday School class was suddenly, shockingly divorced. The roles were easy – the damsel in distress, the villain. We were the heroes, of course. We rode in and moved her into a new condo in about an hour and a half.
It was a sight to behold, horses galloping, flags waving, trumpets blowing, exciting underscore music building. Well, maybe I exaggerate a little. But that’s how it felt. A long line of cars. Noble camaraderie. Team spirit. Back slapping congratulations.
But there’s a problem with the cavalry. Not every situation needs crowds and horses. They are too overwhelming. They are set on quick victory. And as everyone who’s ever mucked a barn knows, the cavalry can leave a mess behind.
A divorce can’t be solved by moving furniture. Healing takes place at a slower pace. A lot of listening and crying are necessary. Possibly some throwing of things. Can you imagine a cavalry unit standing by quietly and listening? Me either.
Here’s another example:
Suzie, my wife, had a brain tumor. It was discovered when she suddenly was unable to speak. One minute she was getting over a bilateral mastectomy and the next we were meeting our friendly neighborhood brain surgeon. There’s much more to the story, but as a side show the cavalry showed up.
I hadn’t slept or eaten in many hours. I’d just left the quiet womb of intensive care with murmured prayers and ominous goodbyes. I knew my only chance to eat for the rest of the day would be immediately. After that, I’d be too nervous to leave in case the surgeon came in for a report. I opened the door to the surgical waiting room to find the cavalry on the other side. I was overwhelmed by a room packed with strangers and friends from church, all eyes turned to stare at me. I felt like I was standing on a stage – naked. Aaaah!
I grabbed a few of my closest friends and headed for the cafeteria to eat and build my courage to deal with all of this fuss. The burger was great.
But when we came back, the entire room was empty. What? Everyone had just vanished. The cavalry rode away, never to be seen again. Instead of praying and thinking about my wife having brain surgery with no assurances she would survive or recover, I also felt guilty. I wondered what I’d done wrong. I tried to remember what I’d said, how I’d acted. Did I run them off by not thanking them for coming?
It’s ridiculous, of course, to think that anyone waiting for their wife’s brain surgery should be held responsible for anything. I should have cared less, and part of me didn’t care. Part of me was angry. Part of me was hurt and confused.
I never found out why they all left. To this day I wonder. We moved from brain surgery into even more pressing problems. There was plenty to do.
But I never forgot the cavalry and the mess they left behind.
Or the few, quiet friends who never left.
I like this explanation. I know when I was dealing with physical depression, people (well-meaning of course) would overwhelm me (mind you 2 people = overwhelm). I fortunately was able to tell my best friend to not ask me “how are you” and instead, to just talk about normal things. I was able to explain that for some reason, that sentence was a hot button because I already felt terrible and it was on my mind way too much. I had been attempting to not let it bother me, but it seemed if a conversation started off that way, my head went into a whirlwind (she had picked up on the later in previous visits). So she, being a good friend, tried to understand and out of love strove to attempt what I asked. She was a doer (and southern) so it was tough I could tell to stay away from that phrase, but she was a trooper and adapted. It was wonderful! I know my mom gave me feedback later that she thinks people either want to react when they hear the news, but then later all the intricacies and such for anything long term, becomes a bit overwhelming for those on the outside. I think anyone who understands this, has some kind of intuitive side to know that people just sometimes need something even if they can’t see why. It’s a delicate balance of supporting someone, yet, not crowding them, but being within earshot (or eye site) so they are available.
When my ex husband had a motorcycle wreck AND 5 months later I had a baby and a lot of trouble recovering, people would endlessly ask me how things were going (I think this is where the hot button got started, in retrospect). After 2 years, and no changes in 1.5 yrs (it was a day by day struggle), my Mom had the fortitude to comment “I guess my asking is rather dumb – I know what’s going on, yet I ask..I’m sorry I didn’t mean to add to your stress…” realizing she said it out of habit and not sincerity, but also being we are an incredibly literal family, it left us all in a corner without a way out to really answer when asked – I could at least say “like last time” (that is how we were and we weren’t being mean, we understood that). But I wouldn’t say that to anyone outside the family since I didn’t want to come across as lashing out. After all they were trying to be kind and meant well.
I said all this because our family was typically the hands-off kind, and after a few serious physical incidents within a 10 yr span, we saw things should be tremendously different – my mother has a brain mass the size of a tennis ball in the center of her head with tentacles wrapped around her spine, follwed by my brother who pretty much had the same thing as my mom (but not as big) bu tgot serious complications from meningitis (so there’s the additional factor of ‘am I next? trying to lurk about), and of course my Dad, to not be outdone, nose-dives off a 12 ft ladder and breaks his back in 3 places. All 3 had scares of varying kinds, since then (seizures, old or new symptoms, etc). All 3 folk I can’t ever remember having much more than a cold, ever. All 3 are doing well now (thank you God). You think about many things – not just about yourself, but the family unit, and so many things each family considers important. It forever changed all our perspectives about “being there”. Our family considers it our duty now to be the Cavalry when one of us is down – and no one said a word about it – we all just came to this on our own along the way. We aren’t lovey-dovey folk, but you better believe we show up for reveille and we are ready to do anything. Mom and my grandparents were always supportive but it was up to us to ask for help because that is how things were 30 years ago. We had to learn what each other needed, and if anything, to sometimes ASK and not wait to be asked, and other times just DO without asking because just taking care of something for someone else, lifts a burden that day.
Thanks so much for sharing. Communication is such a tricky thing under good circumstances. When things go off the rails it can get far worse, just when it’s most important. And why is it that things always come in a big bunch? Sounds like you all figured out your way. Knowing when to ask and when to just do something came up this week for us. I rode in and had to hop off my horse and listen instead. But with enough love we can stumble our way through. Thanks again for the comment.