Why we're here...

Love and marriage are the greatest adventures in life, and they point they way to our relationship with the Almighty.

We're honored to be a member of the Christian Marriage Bloggers Association...click on their logo to visit them.

undefined

Sunday, March 27, 2016

Your Dying Spouse 135 - Sympathy and Empathy

As a caregiver, sometimes you have to draw a sharp distinction between sympathy and empathy.

Sympathy says, "I'm sorry you're hurting, I'm sorry you're uncomfortable...and I'm sorry you're scared. I'm genuinely sorry, and I wish that there was some way I could make it all better."

Empathy says the same thing, but adds..."I know how you feel."

Sympathy is always welcome. Even I, who am probably the far right outlier of the 'hard man' (and I'm not proud of this) welcome, when I'm lying on the floor in a pool of blood, a sincere, "Gee, dude, that's really tough."

But empathy...well, you've got to be careful. You may know how I feel. or you may not. And making the wrong choice can really piss off the person for whom you're caring.

Please understand...my wife has never done this, nor have any of the wonderful people who've left comments.

But others have. And yes, they've royally irritated me.

The difference is generally one of kind. People who've been seasick know nausea that's worse than I have had, but they also know that they will survive.

Well, sometimes. I've heard that some who are seasick would prefer death.

But I'm not going to get better. There is pain worse than this, there is discomfort that far outstrips not being able to reach a bathroom before one's bladder - or worse  - lets go.

But the defining thing about terminal illness is the finality of it. It's going to get worse.

And unless you've been there, you don't really know how it feels. I appreciate the effort to understand. Really, I do. But unless you've been here, you don't know how much this sucks.

Best to say, "I'm sorry it hurts," and leave it at that.

And a cold beer would be nice. (If I could still stomach one!)


If you can, please do leave a comment. I am trying to answer all, and I am failing, but please know this - I read and treasure each one.

Below are my recent releases on Kindle -please excuse their presence in the body of the blog. I haven't the energy to get them up as 'buttons' in the sidebar. You can click on the covers to go to the Amazon links (they're 99 cents each). And if you'd like a free PDF, please email me at tempusfugit02 (at) gmail (dot) com, and I'll gladly send them





18 comments:

  1. Once again, you have opened my eyes to aspects of terminal illness and of caregiving that had never even occurred to me.
    Thank you for your brave writing.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Michele, thank YOU. This was a very hard post to write, because it's easy to sound ungrateful for well-meant sentiment, and I sure didn't want to do that. Bit of a tightrope walk.

      Thank you so much for being here!

      Delete
  2. The gift of doing empathy really well is a rare find. And phony sympathy can be spotted a mile away ...

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. That's absolutely right, Linda. I've found that most often I see a clumsiness, that there are those who truly want to feel like they can empathize, but don't see that the comparisons they draw are a bit off.

      I really appreciate your being here!

      Delete
  3. I realize I'm in the sympathy not empathy camp here, Andrew, because I know I don't know how you feel. :( All I know is it sounds super difficult yet you keep keeping on anyway. God bless you.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I wouldn't want you to know how it feels, Lisa! I wouldn't want even an enemy to walk in these shoes.

      And sympathy is so very, very precious.

      Delete
  4. I would never even think that I know what you are going through. I have zero clue and I pray I never do. Can you still enjoy a cigar now and then or is that now taboo?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Susan, I hope you never deal with this either!

      Cigars are fewer now, but I can still have part of one at a time. They do help, but it takes some energy - which I don't have - to smoke them. Weird!

      I'm so glad you're here!

      Delete
  5. Andrew, my friend, it can be so hard to know just what to say! You have pin-pointed it perfectly for us...for I definitely do NOT know how you feel; but I can sure sympathize with you and offer a beer or just a word...I am so sorry it hurts; I hate that you are going through this...and I can offer cyber hugs and many many prayers!

    Your words continue to inspire and are so helpful in our situation...thank you!!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Barbara, the cyber-hugs and prayers are really the perfect thing...they are far more valuable to me than anyone can know, and far more valuable than the modest attainments that are still within my reach.

      I'm so grateful for your words, and your presence.

      Delete
  6. I'm sorry you are going through all of this. It sucks. But know that your wise words and willingness to share with honesty help the rest of us who are caregivers (or might be caregivers one of these days). Keep on writing!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. It does suck, Anita...no question. But being able to process what's happening gives it a meaning my life had not had until now. There's so much opportunity to understand! And while the lessons are hard, they're deep, and passing them on is a signal privilege.

      I'll keep writing. Thanks so much for being here!

      Delete
  7. If I could promise you better days ahead, I would. Someday you will finish that golf swing that got interrupted. That will be a grand day. Not yet, though. I want you to stick around long enough to write an endorsement for my monastery book. Finish the race well. You have my respect, and you're one tough cookie. Bless you, Andrew. Still praying, N

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I appreciate that, Norma, more than you know! And I would be delighted to write an endorsement!

      I appreciate your words...but right now I don't feel too tough. I'm hurting, Norma.

      Delete
  8. Recently, I have told you how miserable I have been. So much so that I have contemplated suicide. However, how you have got through your pain, and your indication that you have been praying for me has got me through the last few weeks. Now my doctors are coming up with some solutions to my health that might even work. I am beginning to feel a bit better, and have a more hopeful outlook. Thanks for hanging in there and giving me courage to keep looking for answers. Many times I am too impatient to wait. You are a great example to me (and I am sure for many others as well).

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Oh, Mick! You have always been in my prayers, every day. I am so glad that there may be a possibility for a road out of this for you!

      I sure hope so, my friend. You are never forgotten, and never alone.

      Delete
  9. Andrew, thank you for sharing the difference between sympathy and empathy. As someone mentioned, empathy done well is a rare gift. You've taught me much about sharing sympathy, and learning to look at terminal illness with a better understanding.

    You continue to be in my prayers, friend.

    ReplyDelete
  10. I am sorry, and I won't stop praying for you.

    ReplyDelete