Fear and Kindness

Most people can imagine themselves being helpful and kind. So, what stops us when we are presented with the choice to act vs to ignore an obvious need? I think it is fear. Take, for example, this story of a kind intention acted upon from my husband's cousin, Patricia.

"Back in September, Lily (my infant daughter) came down with a horrible stomach flu. A few days later, on a Sunday morning, I awoke to the same. Mom was at the cottage, Drazen, Lily's Dad, had to work, and I was alone, incapacitated, with my 2-year-old. Needless to say, I was unable to care for Lily as I hunkered down in the bathroom, on the throne with a bucket in my lap. Lily was distraught at seeing her mom in such shape and I was beside myself because I couldn't care for her. Then came the call from Bernadette! Lily's BFF is Victoria, a friend she made at daycare and whose mother, Bernadette, has become a good friend of mine. A new friend who I already knew was a good friend, but proved to be a friend who went above and beyond the call of duty. When Bernadette heard what kind of shape I was in, she instructed me to dress Lily and pack a bag for her. She took Lily all day Sunday and overnight IN ADDITION to caring for her own rambunctious 2-year-old! Needless to say, it takes nerves of steel and a heart of gold to willingly step forward and volunteer for such duty. I was so relieved that I cried. It's a very scary feeling when you realize that you can't fulfill your child's needs - even more so when you can't leave the bathroom! Thanks to Bernadette, I was able to get over the nasty bug, rest and have peace of mind that my child was being well cared for and loved, with people with whom she is comfortable and loves in return. I will never forget Bernadette's kindness and will never hesitate again to offer my help to someone else in need."

Bernadette acted fearlessly. She wasn't afraid to offer help and she wasn't afraid to take a two year old into her home not knowing whether she would cry in the night. A lot of other people might be afraid to offer help for fear of giving the impression that perhaps that offer might infer that the sick mother could not look after her own child. And perhaps another person might worry that her own family would receive a tiny house guest with a flood of grumpy criticism. Any one of these reasons would lead to inaction and an effort afterwards to forgive oneself for not helping out. And these reasons for not helping another might be very compelling and of course, self-care is the course that we need to take sometimes. But what interests me here are the levers for action and inaction in helping a neighbour. I think one of those of those levers is fear and the extent to which a person is capable of saying "oh to heck with it - I'll just do it".

It would appear from Patricia's story that one unanticipated outcome of a compassionate neighbourhood is that the person on the receiving end of kindness will likely 'pay it forward'. This cycle is starting to look like active citizenship - perhaps we have a moral responsibility to act on behalf of the other, if we possibly can. Next up: another story about paying it forward with surprising results.

Compassion-Action

Recently, a toddler in China was hit by a car, twice, and 18 pedestrians walked past her without coming to her aid. The little girl later died in hospital. Many Chinese are now wringing their hands, wondering what became of their moral compass and the imperative to 'help thy neighbour'.

Last week, I visited my mother in Montreal. My Mum will be 90 years old on Christmas Eve this year and she is still living the high life - cigarettes, rum and coke and chocolate all keep her going. We were chatting about the awful event in China and that got us talking about kindness or a glaring lack of compassion that people had shown our family over the years. In 1972, my Dad had the first of three strokes that would rob him of movement in his right side as well as his speech. "Nothing like a catastrophe to show you who you friends are", my Mum used to say. Some of my father's best friends never came to visit. Perhaps they were afraid of my Dad's silence, or of the fact that he embodied illness and possibly mortality. But others did come. One of those was a short, slight gentleman called Bernie Yorgan. Bernie was more of a golfing acquaintance - he was a bachelor, possibly gay, very gentle and unassuming. Bernie arrived one day at our door with a gigantic leather case - it contained a cello. Bernie played his cello for my Dad in our living room quite often. Sometimes Dad closed his eyes and even fell asleep, but Bernie took that as a compliment.

Our neighbours down the street were not really friends at all. We knew them to say Hello, but nothing more. One day, after Dad's second stroke, our neighbour rang our doorbell. He offered to build a ramp for my Dad's wheelchair. His wife offered to clean our house. We didn't have much money in those days and my Mum thanked them for their kindness, but said that we couldn't afford their services. The ramp was installed and the house was cleaned after the couple convinced my mother that they could not possibly accept any money for their gifts.

In this blog, I want to talk about the triggers that compel us to compassionate action and those circumstances that cause us to look away or avoid stepping into the breach of helpfulness. But for now, I want to reminisce and tell stories of what has been most helpful to people in times of pain and trouble. What is your story?

Welcome To The Compassionate Neighbourhood!

For a long time now, I have been thinking about two ideas: compassion and neighbourhood. As the mother of a 23 year old young man with severe disabilities and as the daughter of a feisty 89 year old mother, I want to know how compassionate action taken in neighbourhoods can make people of all ages healthier and communities more connected.

Let me tell two little stories. The first happened when my husband Jim and I moved back to Ottawa from our diplomatic posting in Washington, DC in 1987. We bought an old house on a leafy street and the same day that the moving van arrived, so did my neighbour with a casserole and a cake. "Gosh....thank you!" I couldn't think of anything else to say - no stranger had ever presented me with homemade meals before. The tiny white-haired lady smiled and said, "We live across the street and we saw that you were moving in. We just wanted to say welcome!"

The next story happened last year in London, where my husband and I were posted until we returned to Canada a month or so ago. Because Jim was the Canadian High Commissioner to the UK, we lived in an official residence with staff. Our house manager, Stephen, came into my home office one morning and immediately, I could tell he was upset. Every morning, Stephen caught the train into Victoria Station from his seaside town in Kent. On this particular day, his walk to the station was disturbed by the sound of a woman crying for help. Stephen stopped and after a few minutes, was able to identify the source of the plaintive cries. It was an elderly woman calling out from her window, "Help! Someone tell me what time it is! What day is it? Help!" Stephen told me that he spoke to the woman and learned that her husband had recently passed away. She was confused, distraught and alone. "Our country never used to be like that", he said, "We used to know our neighbours and help them."

What happened to change our neighbourly behaviour between 1987 and 2011?

Since my son Nicholas' diagnosis of cerebral palsy 23 years ago, I have been a disability activist. But recently I have become convinced that we need to look at CARE as something that spans all human life, across ages and across abilities. In Canada, a lot has been accomplished in making lives better for people with issues of ageing, disability and childcare. But those constituencies remain separate in their political advocacy efforts.

I know that there are seniors who look after their infant grandchildren. Those seniors may eventually need the same daily assistance as my son to get dressed in the morning. Everyone has or will have care needs. Of course the shrinking budgets of health and social care are a big part of this discussion, but so are the compassionate acts of neighbours.

In this blog, I am going to be talking about what works in my neighbourhood for those who need care and those who give it. My topics will be about care and kindness, innovative ideas that help families capitalize on their resilience and of course, government programmes that help or hinder the wellbeing of our children, seniors and loved ones with disabilities.

Welcome and as Joan Rivers would say, "Let's talk!"