Heroes

I've been thinking a lot about recent conversations I've had with my mom and her perception about devotion and support. She has a very giving and kind heart, my mom; whenever anyone is in pain or ill or in need, she is the first visitor, first caller, first offer for a helping hand.

When life throws a curveball at someone we love, we all react differently. Many of us hide for fear of saying the wrong thing or, at the very least, withdraw slightly, trying to grip the issue and gain solid footing before offering our aide. We allow ourselves the 'out' by thinking we've got to be stoic and strong for their sake.

How easy that reaction is to misinterpret as not caring. The loved one who is struggling through the life crisis notices the phone is still. Wouldn't an outpouring of support in whatever form it comes be preferred, the front doorbell constantly ringing with the comfort of those whose lives we have touched and bettered?

To step forward, unafraid of the hard stuff, is to realize that life is all about the connectivity of spirit and humanity. If your heart is full, the moments you spend holding hands will help you find the words. It's a love thing.

Maybe that's what my wise mother learned about life so early on. Our society calls people like these nurturers, but I disagree: I think they're heroes in the truest sense of the word.