Encouragement

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It’s something I would never ask for. Never thought I needed it for most things. I was a thinker and felt that I possessed the answers to all issues. Remedies to any problem only needed time and research. Should time and research fail, then there was money that could solve any issue – well almost. What wouldn’t I ask for? Help.

I could find was to get around asking for help in any situation. An example? When I was moving, I hired a moving company. Most people would ask friends, but me? Nope, I just got out the checkbook. And when I was looking for a job? My solution was to comb the internet for hours, write and rewrite resumes and cover letters and make calls. It worked too; I got one of the best jobs I’ve ever had! And my car purchase? Simple actually, I read consumer reports, did goggle searches to figure out the cars that I liked, that my budget liked and that had the features I needed (being a convertible was high on the list!). I even read up on how to negotiate, how to read sales contracts and the best organization to handle my financing. In all these areas I had found the answer by using my mind, my know-how, my time or my money. I liked the idea of handling it myself, not needing help and probably most importantly – no owing someone.

But now as I sat next to the hospital bed, all my creative problem solving seemed to fail me. My mind was blank, I had no experience that seemed to be relatable to this situation, no amount of money or creativity could fix this.

My Daddy was dying.

Sounds crazy for a 35 year old woman to call her father daddy, but that’s who he was. He was a hard man to get to know and an easy man to love. As a child, he was a disciplinarian. As an adult he was man to listen to and to watch. He seemed to have an uncanny understanding of people, their actions and motivations. I had always given him as the reason I didn’t like to ask for help. I always said his strength had taught me to be strong and independent. But I just couldn’t seem to be those things now – when I probably need it the most.

My father, if I asked him for help, would always help me. I knew that I could depend always on him. But through the years he seemed to demonstrate through his life the pride of being a helper and not the helped. He always seemed to be the person that people leaned on and I wanted to be just like him. I didn’t want to need as much as be needed. I always said to be available to help others when they needed me. But the truth was, I didn’t want to be seen as weak, vulnerable and heaven for forbid, needy.

As I looked at him in the hospital bed, I thought, this is a time when I would like to call him, to get his opinion on what to do. Should I cry? Should I act as though he’s not on a respirator? Or ignore the morphine drip that is slipping him medicine that will both ease his pain and hasten his death? Should I talk about the good old days? Or be a brat and tell him the 100 reasons why I don’t want him to die?

I wanted his help; no I needed his help.

And as I thought about him dying, I also considered all the things I missed because of wanting to appear strong. What did I miss by not asking dad to borrow his truck so I could move? What did loose by getting dad to write a letter of recommendation to use during my job hund? After all he was a high rankings union official with all kinds of contacts. What did I not learn by asking dad about the car? If nothing else, I could now see why when I drove in his driveway, he wasn’t has happy to see my new Honda as I thought he would be. At the time, I was proud I did it myself, but now I see that maybe, as a former mechanic, he would have liked to contribute his know how to my research about the best automobile to purchase.

And most importantly, what did I not learn from dad’s example with asking for help? When I really thought about it I found lots of examples when my dad did ask for help. Why hadn’t I noticed it before? It was because of how he did it. He always asked in good faith, somehow knowing that the person being asked could handle the request, could be trusted to complete the job if accepted and with some pride in knowing that they were a valuable resource. When dad asked you for help, you felt like you had an opportunity. You didn’t think him weak, because you understood that he thought you strong.

My father died on February 3, 2003. Did I ever discuss my “needs” with him? No. But with the experience of this death was born in me the understanding that to need is not weak and to have those that are willing and able to help you with your need? Well, that is to be truly blessed.

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