Enjoy this short story about never giving up hope, even during the most difficult times ... because help is somewhere to be found. We may just need to open our hearts to receive it.
Asking for help is hard. Accepting help is harder. I tend to think: I can do this. I just need a few more minutes OR I just need to put that in the backpack so I can use my hands OR I just need everyone to be quiet so I can thinkโฆ
My husband, Sam, first had spinal surgery for a herniated disc while posted to a far-away island. I was pregnant and resentful in my caretaking of two small children and a tall, strong, incapacitated man. Recovery was long. For all of us.
We moved back to mainland America a year laterโฆ
"Asking for help is hard.Accepting help is harder ... "
I strapped the baby to my back and walked our two older children to school as furniture and one thousand boxes arrived on our front lawn. I knew no one and hardly knew myself.
Wave to the nice redhead putting her son on the school busโฆ
Smile shyly at the woman next door who offered us a corkscrewโฆ
Plan to write something at nap-timeโฆ
I was irritated by the challenge ahead โฆ unpacking boxes while changing diapers, learning classroom rules, and trying to remember new garbage pick-up schedules.
Unstrapping the baby from my aching back, I heard screaming. It was Sam, upstairs. He couldnโt stand. Or talk. Again. He could only exist in pain.
I called an ambulance.
โWhat did you do?โ Sam managed to moan, because asking for help is most embarrassing when lights flash and sirens wail out front of your house - especially in a new neighborhood.
Sam spent the next few months in bed, assisted in every way. We had to wait -- for surgery, for solution. In pain. In uncertainty. Again. I spent those months on my feet, assisting. Angry. Tired. Scattered. Pulled. Lacking patience and compassion and any certainty of normalcy. Again.
Help kids with homework...
Barricade baby before using the toiletโฆ
Bathe everyoneโฆ
Wear lipstickโฆ
Bring meals upstairsโฆ
Wave and smile to neighborsโฆ
I started to remember names.
Redhead Kaitlin came to the door with a candy bar and her phone number. Then sang a little song and danced a bit. Which made me laugh. Stacey Next Door brought a bottle for the corkscrew. And cookies. Her husband brought a lawnmower. The house evolved. I stacked boxes on the curb and assembled beds.
I did the shopping. The woman helping me bag groceries was kind. She reminded me God was here and to be trusted. I tipped her.
โThis is too much,โ she said.
โIt isnโt enough,โ I said. Then I cried. I told her about the pain I couldnโt stop and the help I couldnโt be. I donโt remember what words she prayed but I remember her name.
Lena.
I drove home, better.
On my return, once again, I heard Sam cry out in agony. I called the ambulance for the second time.
Then I called Redhead Kaitlin. She was in my living room before the paramedics because sometimes we need love more urgently than solution.
" ... sometimes we need love more urgently than solution."
I cried at the hospital because my husbandโs barely known boss asked if I needed anything, Samโs mom called saying she bought a plane ticket, and a list online was filled with women signed up to bring us dinners.
I cried because I knew we would go back to our messy home to heal and trust. Even though I didnโt know many people, I was known. That reinforced a few certainties:
Asking for help is hard. Accepting help is harder. But abandoning hope is impossible.
Samโs spine is now strongest at the point it was damaged because the screws holding it together are covered in new bone.
For all the pain, chaos, and uncertainty everywhere Iโve learned that what holds me up is Hope - but asking for help and growing through acceptance that I need it, thatโs what makes me stronger for next time.
Meet Christina Rauh Fishburne
Christina Rauh Fishburne is a writer, Army wife, and mother of three currently living in England. She has an MFA from the University of Alabama and will finish your cake for you.
Follow Christina's work here:
READ ANOTHER STORY |
โTouching story of human kindness. On a bus from Phoenix to LA a woman hands over her last forty dollars. But that wasn't the end of her story...
[…] Hope Helps: Daily Inspired Life Waterwheel Review: Forgive The Form Ekphrastic Review: Blend Tiny Seed Journal: Valhalla Porcupine Literary: Accept No Substitute Leticia’s Song, Locksmith, and Where We Live Now (as part of Steeplestreet Music’s Flux and Flow Showcase) Seclusion (as part of the Bronte themed Covid-19 Poetry Anthology […]
That’s such an amazing story. It reminds us that “where there is despair there is always hope.” Thanks for sharing.
This was a great read, the insite is so helpful. I find that I have a lot of family that ask for help and when we offer what they consider to be “large grand gestures” like homes or jobs to give them a fresh start they run away from us, go into radio silence. They just want money with no strings attached.
Beautiful post! I agree hope is what keeps all things in perspective and keeps us going. My younger oneโs name and my blogโs name both have the word in it. Loved- sometimes we need love more than the solution!
Beautiful and inspiring piece. Thank you for sharing.
Great post. Totally agree- allowing ourselves to accept help can sometimes be such a humbling yet amazing experience.