“Please,” I say to the misty-eyed twenty-something at the shelter open house. I volunteer there. I’ve handed her a cat to hold. “Please, do talk about it,” I tell her. “It helps,” I say, nodding. We sit, I listen. I ask questions about the cat she just lost. We smile over what she loved about him. We are sad about what she will miss… We talk about her tough childhood, her relationship with her mom, her new romantic relationship with an old friend. She’s taken all the highs and lows of her life and let them make her tender. She tells me she’s not ready for a new cat, but it helps to at least love on some cats….

“She’s beautiful!” I’m looking at photos of a strawberry colored basset hound. The awkward teen working at the hardware store beams. She’s clearly his Everything. His living situation sounds hard, but clearly his dog brings him joy. “You’re right,” I say, “she’s amazing!”

“Ugh…I’m so sorry to hear that….” I’m sitting next to an older woman in the packed neighborhood brewery. She’s petting my little Finn dog as he lies on the bench between us. She tells me about the recent loss of her own small dog. “There are so many things I miss about him,” she tells me, turning away to wipe her eyes. She smiles, looking down to stroke Finn’s soft fur.

“Oh sweet friend,” I say, hearing the tears in my friend’s voice, “what a disappointment…” We’re on the phone. She tells me the bad news she got from a doctor about the progression of her dementia. “No, you are not whining,” I say. “You’re processing the new information,” I say. “It’s normal, everything you’re feeling is so normal.” My eyes mist and I swallow hard.

I don’t offer big things to this world.

I was one of those Some College people. I didn’t have A Big Career. I loved raising my kids. I struggle with anxiety, depression. A lack of belief in myself. I struggle with food issues. I have framed certificates on the wall for my outstanding contributions to the fields of codependence and procrastination.

BUT–

what if, in spite of what I see as All My Lacks–

the lack of all those societal marks of success,

it’s Enough

just to sit with someone

to be there to See them, truly See them,

to hear their story,

truly hear them?

To grieve with them, to share their joy,

to assure them they aren’t alone in the bad or the good?

What if that’s my superpower, my offering to this life–

Simply to See, to Hear?

When I am in those moments,

it feels

Enough.

I feel Enough.

**

The Bring Your Own Beverage Conversation: What’s your superpower? When has someone made you feel seen and heard? When have you made someone else feel truly seen and heard?