Dying of Loneliness

I knew someone once who died of loneliness.

Her husband had died in a tragic accident and she, ill and unable to get out of the house without the help and support of her neighbors, family and friends, and deep in grief, slowly died ... of loneliness.

Fewer and fewer people stopped by to see her. Fewer and fewer called her. She had no outside interests, nothing to occupy her mind. And she spent literally days at a time without any human contact.

After the death of her husband, who doted on her and talked about his day with her, it took her seven years to die. And of course the death certificate said she died of a heart attack. But it was hastened by an unutterable sadness that permeated every waking moment of her life. How very tragic! People just went on about their lives, and never gave her a second thought. It wasn't like they were TRYing to exclude her. She just never crossed their minds.

Some might have said that she could have used the phone and called someone, reached out. That's probably true. But I have to say that when a person is lonely, hurting, or depressed - the last thing that person wants to do (even though it's the best thing for him or her) is to ask for attention or for help. I know from experience. Frequent experience.

The last few days has been rather draining for me because of a situation beyond my control. When that happens, the first thing that suffers is my sense of being loved, appreciated, and important to someone - anyone. It is so easy to slip into self-pity, resentment, bitterness, and anger. It is the simplest thing in the world to self-isolate and to blame everyone else for - for not meeting my needs.

Gloria Gaither told the story once on an 8-track tape I used to listen to (yes, that dates me) of her son Benji. Benji was three at the time and his grandmother thought it would be a great thing to take him out in the field behind their home and play ball with him. Someone had gotten him one of those plastic bat and ball sets - the one with the hollow ball and the big thick hollow plastic bat. She'd throw the ball and he'd swing - and miss. Over and over again he would swing for all he was worth ... and over and over again he would not hit that ball. When Gloria was looking for him to ask him to come in for a meal, she saw him in the field with his grandma, "playing ball." As soon as she got within earshot, Benji threw down the bat, stamped his little feet and yelled in frustration, "You did it aGAIN Grandma ! You missed my bat AGAIN !"

I've often thought of that little story when life isn't going my way and I get disgruntled. (What is a gruntle anyway...?) Things go wrong, my needs aren't met, I keep giving and giving and giving and then the anger starts to build up. When I start feeling sorry for myself, before long I lash out inside at the people who just aren't hitting my bat. Then I start to shut down emotionally, to sit on my pity-pot and pout. Feeling angry is not bad; but feelings are transient things, and if they are allowed to stay for too long, they can morph into something dangerous. That's where I was headed earlier today. Often at those times, God (in His mercy and compassion) sends me some way to arrest that mindset. Tonight it was a very simple message from a relatively new friend, a message that said something nice and let me remember that I was special.

And that is just the thing. Often it is a simple kindness that can make the difference between someone having a rotten day and just making someone's day.

Here are examples of words that make someone's day when they are spoken... and meant:

Thank you.
Can I help you?
What you did (or said) was so sweet!
I miss you. Can we get together and chat?
I just love the way you __fill in the blank__.

It doesn't sound hard, does it?