Because it’s going to crack you open,
showing up for someone else’s pain,
sitting with their suffering as you struggle
to tamp down your own.
It can’t save the ones you love most,
but it is a gift, the breaking of your heart,
to have loved so fiercely, to show up
at their most awful moments,
not to try to fix it—because you can’t.
That’s not your job. Yours is to appear,
in person, if your dear one can bear
the presence of your own ravaged heart,
stitched back together after so many
rips in the seams. The love leaks out
that way, infusing those whom you’re
accompanying on this journey of
healing or decline, grief or joy.
Simple old you is all that’s needed—
all that you can offer anyway—
your hand, your kind smile,
your patchwork quilt of a heart,
which, without prompting,
pumps compassion into the world
with every persistent beat.
Güd wrtr 
love this!!!!
Thank so much, Kathy!
Touching, Jan. A real keeper. Love, Amrita
Thanks, Amrita! I appreciate that!
This is brilliant and true Jan. Would it be okay if we use it in the final workshop of this Caregiver Project series as a prompt?
Of course! Honored to have it used as a prompt! Thanks, Sue!