As I write this after reading your latest note I realise you give a lot to others, whether men or womem , know or unknown, friend, simple admirer or any other way in which they interact with you. You give them the opportunity to give in ways they may never have had before, to be unselfish and give whatever gifts they have acquired over their lives whether long or short. You are in a way a facilitator, you've given each one the chance to help another person in their own particular way, it is a gift to you as the recipient but a gift to them too. They learn they too can do, help, in ways they may never have imagined before, simple or demanding they forget the self for a while.
If we have learned anything in this last difficult years it is that we desperately need other people, real people not those we see on screens in some far off existence. When the ability to interact in person with friends, family and other's is taken from us, we live in a kind of limbo... is this type of living or surviving? Maybe a discussion for another time.
Never underestimate what you have given to the many with whom you have interacted in some way since your first post, your honesty, as you have faced the unimaginable difficulties you have, and will continue to have, has been humbling to those of us who , perhaps, take our lives , as they are, for granted. I number myself amongst those people too but have been reminded again that life is frail and we take it for granted at our peril...I ,for one ,needed reminding of this. Thank you, Hanif.
You have had so many chapters of this new life of yours just in this one year. Soon you will begin another new life at home and more chapters to come. And with so many real friends and family members who truly love you, right there to support you as you continue to progress. Your last article made me feel so hopeful and happy for you. And weirdly for me!
My house is smack-dap in the middle of Tornado Alley, an area of the US that is pounded with massive thunderstorms and tornados every spring. Yes - Kansas.
Sometimes these storms roll in so quickly you barely have time to grab the dog, scream at the kids, grab the binder of “important papers”, and a plug in radio and run to the basement. All hell breaks loose above your head - you can feel the house shiver, hear the chimney fall off the roof and the limbs of the oak trees snap. Oh and the sound of the wind screaming and the rain pounding. Then silence. And you emerge from the basement, push open the front door and survey the damage. The oak demolished the pickup, the neighbor’s metal roof has been peeled back like a sardine can, and the yard is a sea of branches and debris. But the house is still standing and the kids are okay. And the air is still and clear and cool. Even blue in patches. And it’s a total mess but you’re gonna be OK because you survived it and the neighbor has already fired up his bulldozer and is heading over.
Emotionally this is how I feel after reading your blog today.
Thank you. Your pieces are always gripping and thought provoking. In writing them i think you are giving the people you talk about the gift of recognition, which, sadly, few carers ever get. You are also providing insights and guidance that will change the way that at least some of your readers will behave in future. And I hope your writing will remind health and care professionals of how important, and rewarding, it is to be kind and curious about the unique and precious person inside the patient.
”My female friends have gone further in their care than the men”. Yes, i don’t find it difficult to believe. And do you think that a sick woman would get the same amount of care by men or women?
That’s a great question. My little sister was always more helpful in our childhood home, than me. I became aware of it late, and now try to make up for my past laziness whenever the chance occur. It goes to show, that females have a nourishing sense in the home environment. Where they learn it from, I really don’t know.
They learn it from who is around them telling them that they are not good women unless they show that they can nurse a child, a sick person, etc. it is a good thing. I wish men were told/pressured in the same way
I grew up as something of a ghost child because my Mum was always ill, often seriously and my Dad (I was an only child) was irritated by my needs. I was lonely but I also became very self sufficient, so it wasn’t all bad. I’d be very interested to read your thoughts on the topic of this unspoken hierarchy of needs. I love your blog.
My sister, age 78, who contracted polio at age 6, now lives in an assisted living facility. She recently made a new friend, a woman of 65 who suffered some kind of catastrophic neurological event (she was catatonic for 6 weeks) and can no longer live in her house, as there are stairs etc. My sister observed compassionately how, “I’ve been dealing with polio my whole life,” while her friend has had to make this sudden shocking adjustment. a simple harrowing fact. our entire family life revolved around my sister’s condition… you have such a lively mind and a lively world around you. and such a loving family. i’m so glad those avenues of communication have grown stronger for you and yours… as you all make these adjustments. directness can be so refreshing.
I love that you are finally seeing a rainbow in the fabric of your new life. Who cares if you could do the same for them? And relationships do not have to be equal. So enjoy the love, let it soften you, and let it heal your psyche of whatever cynicism gets in the way.
Although wishing you get well soon might seem too traditional, I wish you get better although I love reading this essay about you being sick. You have shown me the gravity of our relationships to the others around us, they lift us up and we lift them up amid catastrophe. The beauty in this mundanity of care, changing clothes, talking, gossiping, scratching the head, are all levels of care with love.
Thank you for giving me, a stranger, a new capacity to look at care, and love, and being together as family and friends.
Needy people are very demanding - weak people in every sense are. Were you demanding before this all happened maybe in another way. But you make it sound like you don't give anything, and you do. Your part in all of this, is of course central, but not without its give and take. The equality thing, you seem to have answered yourself - I think relationships are a continual balancing act - with yourself, finding the centre all the time. Home is just around the corner now - a change you have at least had some time to manage. The main thing that bursts through your writing today, is how much you need people - but they seem to need you too!! It is a quiet fairly fine afternoon here in my small village - Christmas time isn't terribly noticeable here - I've got a few lights up near the windows but I always have lights around - when you are feeling frightened or lonely, there is nothing like a light to break through that. Nancy is singing - as long as he needs me - yes got Oliver! the musical on (best version) and that is the heart of it. We have to be needed - what is the point otherwise? and you are. With lots of love from the tiny village in North Yorkshire, Maddi x ps be thinking of your journey home early next week x
This is a wonderful piece. It goes so many important places- what is the nature of our sense of ourselves, how it can change due to circumstances beyond our control, who are we, what are we to others, do we need to be equal in every way to someone else, attempt to replicate the desirable qualities of another- and what is our isolated idea of our life in a real sense? I appreciate this and will ponder it, as I do anyway think about these things myself not from time to time but often, aging as I am.
I come away from reading your words today Hanif, and get such a strong sense of your power, potency, empathy, sense of wonder, curiosity, and love. Those qualities rise up beyond the hospital bed, not confined to what the body can or can not do. The human spirit is on fire. Most people walk around in a trance all of their lives never finding for themselves, or sharing with others, the beauty and rawness of their true human spirit.
I hope you don't take this to be toxic positivity in the face of what you are going through. I just got a really strong sense of your power amongst all that is going on for you.
I read the following on Substack's Poetic Outlaws this morning.
"The wisdom of age constitutes the ability to accept reality, which is the knowledge of certain death -- substantial, personal, individual extinction. It no longer seeks to disguise the fundamental cruelty and terror of life because it is too weary for further struggle. It is not the acceptance of destiny so much, as the succumbing to it... It's not pessimism but a joyous acceptance of life!" Henry Miller.
Dear Hanif,
As I write this after reading your latest note I realise you give a lot to others, whether men or womem , know or unknown, friend, simple admirer or any other way in which they interact with you. You give them the opportunity to give in ways they may never have had before, to be unselfish and give whatever gifts they have acquired over their lives whether long or short. You are in a way a facilitator, you've given each one the chance to help another person in their own particular way, it is a gift to you as the recipient but a gift to them too. They learn they too can do, help, in ways they may never have imagined before, simple or demanding they forget the self for a while.
If we have learned anything in this last difficult years it is that we desperately need other people, real people not those we see on screens in some far off existence. When the ability to interact in person with friends, family and other's is taken from us, we live in a kind of limbo... is this type of living or surviving? Maybe a discussion for another time.
Never underestimate what you have given to the many with whom you have interacted in some way since your first post, your honesty, as you have faced the unimaginable difficulties you have, and will continue to have, has been humbling to those of us who , perhaps, take our lives , as they are, for granted. I number myself amongst those people too but have been reminded again that life is frail and we take it for granted at our peril...I ,for one ,needed reminding of this. Thank you, Hanif.
Lis xx
You have had so many chapters of this new life of yours just in this one year. Soon you will begin another new life at home and more chapters to come. And with so many real friends and family members who truly love you, right there to support you as you continue to progress. Your last article made me feel so hopeful and happy for you. And weirdly for me!
Dear Hanif
My house is smack-dap in the middle of Tornado Alley, an area of the US that is pounded with massive thunderstorms and tornados every spring. Yes - Kansas.
Sometimes these storms roll in so quickly you barely have time to grab the dog, scream at the kids, grab the binder of “important papers”, and a plug in radio and run to the basement. All hell breaks loose above your head - you can feel the house shiver, hear the chimney fall off the roof and the limbs of the oak trees snap. Oh and the sound of the wind screaming and the rain pounding. Then silence. And you emerge from the basement, push open the front door and survey the damage. The oak demolished the pickup, the neighbor’s metal roof has been peeled back like a sardine can, and the yard is a sea of branches and debris. But the house is still standing and the kids are okay. And the air is still and clear and cool. Even blue in patches. And it’s a total mess but you’re gonna be OK because you survived it and the neighbor has already fired up his bulldozer and is heading over.
Emotionally this is how I feel after reading your blog today.
Am so happy you are almost home.
(And, yes, women are wonderful.)
Thank you. Your pieces are always gripping and thought provoking. In writing them i think you are giving the people you talk about the gift of recognition, which, sadly, few carers ever get. You are also providing insights and guidance that will change the way that at least some of your readers will behave in future. And I hope your writing will remind health and care professionals of how important, and rewarding, it is to be kind and curious about the unique and precious person inside the patient.
”My female friends have gone further in their care than the men”. Yes, i don’t find it difficult to believe. And do you think that a sick woman would get the same amount of care by men or women?
That’s a great question. My little sister was always more helpful in our childhood home, than me. I became aware of it late, and now try to make up for my past laziness whenever the chance occur. It goes to show, that females have a nourishing sense in the home environment. Where they learn it from, I really don’t know.
They learn it from who is around them telling them that they are not good women unless they show that they can nurse a child, a sick person, etc. it is a good thing. I wish men were told/pressured in the same way
Can you give an example?
Just look around yourself please.
Thank you for noticing so much and for daring to investigate the power balances from so many perspectives. 💚
I grew up as something of a ghost child because my Mum was always ill, often seriously and my Dad (I was an only child) was irritated by my needs. I was lonely but I also became very self sufficient, so it wasn’t all bad. I’d be very interested to read your thoughts on the topic of this unspoken hierarchy of needs. I love your blog.
My sister, age 78, who contracted polio at age 6, now lives in an assisted living facility. She recently made a new friend, a woman of 65 who suffered some kind of catastrophic neurological event (she was catatonic for 6 weeks) and can no longer live in her house, as there are stairs etc. My sister observed compassionately how, “I’ve been dealing with polio my whole life,” while her friend has had to make this sudden shocking adjustment. a simple harrowing fact. our entire family life revolved around my sister’s condition… you have such a lively mind and a lively world around you. and such a loving family. i’m so glad those avenues of communication have grown stronger for you and yours… as you all make these adjustments. directness can be so refreshing.
I love that you are finally seeing a rainbow in the fabric of your new life. Who cares if you could do the same for them? And relationships do not have to be equal. So enjoy the love, let it soften you, and let it heal your psyche of whatever cynicism gets in the way.
So much clear headed wisdom and love here, conveyed so directly and economically. Happy Solstice, and best wishes for your return to your home.
A beautiful and thoughtful article. I so enjoy reading your Substack. I wish I could afford a subscription.
Yes to writing more about how being sick can also put a stranglehold on a family. It's a reality that hasn't been explored very much.
Dear Hanif,
Although wishing you get well soon might seem too traditional, I wish you get better although I love reading this essay about you being sick. You have shown me the gravity of our relationships to the others around us, they lift us up and we lift them up amid catastrophe. The beauty in this mundanity of care, changing clothes, talking, gossiping, scratching the head, are all levels of care with love.
Thank you for giving me, a stranger, a new capacity to look at care, and love, and being together as family and friends.
Needy people are very demanding - weak people in every sense are. Were you demanding before this all happened maybe in another way. But you make it sound like you don't give anything, and you do. Your part in all of this, is of course central, but not without its give and take. The equality thing, you seem to have answered yourself - I think relationships are a continual balancing act - with yourself, finding the centre all the time. Home is just around the corner now - a change you have at least had some time to manage. The main thing that bursts through your writing today, is how much you need people - but they seem to need you too!! It is a quiet fairly fine afternoon here in my small village - Christmas time isn't terribly noticeable here - I've got a few lights up near the windows but I always have lights around - when you are feeling frightened or lonely, there is nothing like a light to break through that. Nancy is singing - as long as he needs me - yes got Oliver! the musical on (best version) and that is the heart of it. We have to be needed - what is the point otherwise? and you are. With lots of love from the tiny village in North Yorkshire, Maddi x ps be thinking of your journey home early next week x
This is a wonderful piece. It goes so many important places- what is the nature of our sense of ourselves, how it can change due to circumstances beyond our control, who are we, what are we to others, do we need to be equal in every way to someone else, attempt to replicate the desirable qualities of another- and what is our isolated idea of our life in a real sense? I appreciate this and will ponder it, as I do anyway think about these things myself not from time to time but often, aging as I am.
I come away from reading your words today Hanif, and get such a strong sense of your power, potency, empathy, sense of wonder, curiosity, and love. Those qualities rise up beyond the hospital bed, not confined to what the body can or can not do. The human spirit is on fire. Most people walk around in a trance all of their lives never finding for themselves, or sharing with others, the beauty and rawness of their true human spirit.
I hope you don't take this to be toxic positivity in the face of what you are going through. I just got a really strong sense of your power amongst all that is going on for you.
I read the following on Substack's Poetic Outlaws this morning.
"The wisdom of age constitutes the ability to accept reality, which is the knowledge of certain death -- substantial, personal, individual extinction. It no longer seeks to disguise the fundamental cruelty and terror of life because it is too weary for further struggle. It is not the acceptance of destiny so much, as the succumbing to it... It's not pessimism but a joyous acceptance of life!" Henry Miller.
Thank you for sharing your stories. Jo 🌟