The Wounded Healer
- At January 20, 2012
- By Roxanne Snopek
- In Life, Roxanne Writes On
- 2
“Only what is really oneself has the power to heal.” – C.G. Jung
Last spring, my daughter invited an acquaintance over to the house to bake cookies. They lived in the same neighbourhood, shared a few university classes and the impecunious eye of a hopeful gas-saver. By the time they’d taken the last batch from the oven, they’d agreed to car-pool.
But it didn’t last.
The day after their cookie-baking date, the friend discovered she was ill. Really ill.
This week, barely six months after her diagnosis, she died.
My daughter visited her early on, before it became apparent that this was not a get-well-soon kind of illness. They hadn’t passed the superficial stages of early friendship and death is nothing if not intimate. Besides, what do you say to someone who had the same plans as you, but won’t even be here a year from now? Or a month from now? How do you claim one second of the time left for idle conversation?
I don’t know the family, and can’t pretend to know what they have gone through, and will continue to go through. But I think I can imagine.
I think every parent can imagine.
It’s what makes us lie awake at night until all the cars are back, what makes us freak out when a cell phone goes unanswered, what makes our heart-rate skyrocket each time the phone rings at an odd hour and we can’t mentally check off everyone as safe and sound.
We can imagine, because from the moment they come to us, we know fear. We can never, ever be absolutely certain that they are safe and sound. The fear of loss changes a person.
My daughter is in nursing school. In her career, she will see all sorts of people in all sorts of extreme situations. She won’t be able to claim she knows what they’re going through, but she will be able to imagine a tiny fraction of their pain.
And she will be a better healer for it.