You Are Such a Blessing

I used to think the only way I would help people in my life is if I were a doctor or a social worker or a volunteer of some kind. I am not cut out to be a doctor or a social worker, though, and while I have volunteered in the past, it always feel disingenuous, like I’m trying to win something. I don’t particularly enjoy any of the volunteer work I’ve done.

And I thought, very strongly, that my writing would never help anyone. Listen, now, other people’s writing has helped me. Immensely. It has made me feel not alone, and helped me put together parts of the world that were a mystery, and to have more compassion for people I didn’t previously. I am not saying that writers do not help, but that my particular brand of writing did not. So I thought I was a bit doomed, personally, to be a selfish beast of an individual.

The other day, though, after a babysitter plan flopped, I was despairing on Facebook looking for local babysitter recommendations. Gregg and I hadn’t been out on a date night in months, and our wedding anniversary was coming up. I really just want the opportunity to sit across from the love of my life for an hour, a tiny bit drunk, without cleaning up spilled apple juice or cutting up someone’s pasta, or fetching another napkin. I really need a date night.

I didn’t get any babysitter recommendations, though. What happened was that my friend Allie volunteered to babysit, and when I told Gregg, he said, “You really do have the best friends.”

I said, “I know.”

“No, and I don’t just mean Allie. I mean all of your friends. On the Internet. From church. From everywhere. You have the best people as your friends. I’ve never met anyone who knew so many great people.”

“I know,” I said, this time crying a little bit. “And I didn’t even do anything!”

I didn’t, and yet here you are, those who read my blog and those who don’t. I cannot express how much you have personally helped me. You’ve helped me be braver, stronger, courageous, bolder. You’ve given me presents and pep talks and cards. You’ve bought my book, you’ve critiqued my writing, you’ve talked about my work. You’ve answered my panicky emails and texts.

And I? I am still this selfish beast of an individual who has NO IDEA WHY you are here. I don’t know, but I am not letting you go easily. You’ve changed everything about me, made me who I am, and honestly, I know I say it a lot, but you have made my life. You’ve made me ME. How do I ever repay that?

I really can’t. And you’ve taught me: I don’t have to be a doctor or a social worker or a volunteer. I can be a friend. I don’t know that I will, but I hope one day I can be a great friend like you, and to change someone’s life a fraction as much as you’ve changed mine.