Going to the wall

Early this year, during a sermon our minister remarked, in regard to serious illness, that " there are very few friends who will go to the wall for you". I was moved by it at the time. I've found since that for us it was both true and false.

The truth of it was that we could literally count on the fingers of one hand the people (family and friends) who stuck close to us through the terrible lows of this year, who regularly rang us up to find out how we were, who also gave us the best and most loving support. On the morning Jen died, they were the people whom I rang as early as I dared, not from some sense of obligation or calculation, but because they were the people I needed in that bleak moment. Those who were geographically close enough I asked to come, and I knew they would. I won't name them in this blog, to preserve anonymity, but they know who they are. Their commitment to the four of us was extraordinary, and it has made an incredible difference to us this year.

Was I disappointed that there weren't more such people? The reality is that there are only a small number of people whom you can maintain really close relationships with at any one time, maybe half a dozen or so. We probably couldn't have sustained that level of contact with too many more people anyway, especially in the darkest times of the year. These were friendships that stretched back over many years, that had already been through hard times. One can't just create such friendships or such a level of trust on the spot. We both felt incredibly blessed to have friendships that were deep enough to provide the support that we needed.

The falseness or inaccuracy of that initial remark was that so many friends did in other ways step up to the mark. We received (and I still receive) great practical support from people who have known us for less than a couple of years, especially from church. Many old friends made a real effort to renew personal contact, even if I was not very good at replying. Both at Jen's funeral, and through cards and letters and flowers, I have been continually humbled by the concern shown, even from those of my friends who barely knew Jen. It has been an experience of grace.

Of course there were disappointments, friends who seemed to stay at a distance throughout the whole of Jen's illness and death, not taking any initiative to be in touch. Without knowing their reasons, I've had to work on maintaining a gracious attitude, something that I often saw exemplified in Jen. In some cases it was just the ordinary mismatch of expectations - friends were reluctant to contact us, wanting to give us space, while I was wanting (and appealing to people) to take more initiative in ringing or emailing us. In the end what has mattered has been that we have had enough support, enough to know that we are loved, enough to get us through the worst of times. Thanks to all of you. The boys and I are still at the beginning of another very long road, and we are going to keep needing your support.