The Gift I Almost Forgot to Accept

Something happened this week that has me thinking. Yesterday I wrote about being ferociously independent. Little did I know that shortly I was about to see myself, standing in someone else’s shoes.

My Best Beach Buddie had a terrible accident about 18 months ago. She fell on cement stairs and broke her leg badly. Her recovery has been long, painful and exhausting. She has been an amazing patient and is healing but she is not quite 100%.

She is looking forward to working on a refresh to the exterior of her home. Painters are scheduled, as well as landscapers. The outside of her house is about to get fluffed and buffed. She is a very talented artist and the end product will be fabulous.

BUT...

Before any of that can happen, she has to move many items off of her back porch. She has fabulous collections so all needs to be done with care. As she described to me all that needed to be done, I immediately said, “I’d love to help.” I truly meant it. I had the time and we always have fun together. I enjoy projects. As I offered I pictured us laughing, sharing stories and experiences, justifying previous purchases, a deelish lunch break, and getting the job done.

She smiled and I knew what was coming. Politely she said she needed to do it herself. Of course, I understood. After all, I am exactly the same way.

But...

I have to admit I was disappointed. Not because she refused my help, but because she unknowingly refused my joy. I wanted to help. Not because she needed the help. Not because she couldn’t, because she could. Because I cared.

And then this happened...

Life took an unexpected turn. Her husband took a rough spill on their driveway and she spent most of the day relegated to packing, sitting in urgent care with her man.

By the time I saw her late afternoon, she looked sad, discouraged and exhausted. Sadly, because of my own commitments, I could no longer offer the time and help that I had available just yesterday. The opportunity quietly slipped away. And that is when something hit me. Maybe when we refuse help, we aren’t simply protecting our independence. Maybe we are also denying someone else the simple pleasure of being useful.

I, of course, know exactly why she said no. Because I say no. When my granddaughter reaches for my trash cans, “No thanks, I’ve got it.” When someone offers to carry something, “I am fine.” Sound familiar?

Perhaps I have been looking at this all wrong. Helping is not always about need. Sometimes it is about connection. Sometimes it is about allowing another person to express kindness.

Sometimes accepting help is actually a gift we give someone else.

I am still going to value my independence. I suspect my friend will also. But after this week, I think I will pause a little longer before saying, “No thanks, I’ve got this.” Not because I suddenly need the help. Nope, because someone else might need the joy of giving.

💚 Suz, The Accidental Blogger