Recently, I was reading a post by a woman with Stage IV breast cancer who was living with an abusive, alcoholic husband. As I was responding to her post, I started to write, “By the grace of God, I’ve not been there.” I began to think about that phrase. What does that mean? Does it mean that God has “graced” me, but not her? How could my comment be remotely helpful? I deleted my response and just said, “I’m sorry.” Yes, I’m thankful I don’t live with an abusive, alcoholic husband, but this woman needed support and care, not a cliché remark. My comment felt judgmental and even a bit self-righteous in some way because I “chose” a husband who is neither abusive nor an alcoholic.
So, what do we want to hear when we are facing difficult times? What do we NOT want to hear? Sometimes the platitudes and “encouragement” we are offered are anything but helpful. A neighbor shared with me that when her mother died young, someone said to her, “God needed her.” I was stunned when I read that. God needed her? What about her young children? What about her husband? They didn’t need her? Another friend lost her husband suddenly and unexpectedly. Someone asked her, “So, are you going to get a pet?” Well, of course! Everyone knows a pet is a perfect replacement for your spouse of many years. Another person simply said to her, “That’s so sad.” What a difference.
I’ve read numerous books, blogs, articles, and posts about “What to Say” and “What Not to Say.” Why is there such an awkwardness around a serious illness or a bereavement? We want to say the right words but are afraid they’ll come out wrong. We may default to saying nothing at all. I know I’ve said the wrong thing plenty of times and I’ve also remained silent, maybe giving the impression that I didn’t care. I’ve had comments made to me that caused me to just shake my head in disbelief and I’ve had things said that made me laugh out loud. Most often, though, the messages to my husband and me have made us feel loved and supported. Thank you to each of you who have loved us with your words and actions.
One of the funnier comments when I was diagnosed with Stage II breast cancer in 2007 was, “Keep us abreast of your situation.” I don’t think the intention was to be funny, but how could I not laugh at that? Another time, a friend was praying and quoted the verse in Luke 12:7 about “the very hairs of your head are numbered.” Talk about trying not to snort/laugh at that one! I was BALD from chemo at the time. But I think my all-time favorite response was when I was diagnosed with Stage IV breast cancer. It was from a dear friend who just said, “Well, F@*K!” Those two words meant the world to me, and I just had to laugh – or was it a “chortle?” She wasn’t trying to fix anything or offer advice. She was just saying, “I care about you.”
I think some of comments about God are the hardest to swallow. They are well intended and may be said in love, but they’re not always helpful. Some examples are: “God won’t give you any more than you can handle.” “God has a plan.” “God is good – all the time.” While I do believe that God is good, those words don’t necessarily help when I’m in the middle of a crisis. I’d rather hear you tell me, “I’m sorry.” You can say, “That sucks.” Or just give me a hug.
I’ve had a few people tell me what to eat or not to eat, what to drink or not to drink, implying that whatever I ate or drank caused my cancer. I’ve heard people say that the big pharmaceutical companies just want to make money off cancer patients or we’re putting poison into our bodies by taking the drug XYZ. I’ve heard that no one dies of cancer anymore. Really? Tell that to the husband who just lost his wife to cancer. I even had a nurse acquaintance tell me after my 2007 diagnosis that it was “no big deal.” Well, it sure felt like a big deal to me! And for the record, the woman who opts for reconstruction after a mastectomy is NOT “lucky to be getting a ‘free boob job.’” Finally, we don’t want to hear stories of a friend, co-worker, aunt, or a brother’s friend’s cousin’s mother who just died an awful death from cancer. (Thanks for giving us something to look forward to.)
For the most part, I’m able to let most comments roll off my back and can usually laugh about them later. I haven’t had anything shocking said to me lately and will continue to look for the humorous side of life. I want to be like the grandfather in a scene near the end of the movie, “Moonstruck” when everyone is sitting around the table, nervously waiting for the fiancé to show up. I want to be the one to say, “Someone tell a joke!” And if I don’t, I hope someone else will say it for me.
Carol
Cancer has progressed to my bones. I pray that it never enters my soul.
I am trying to get caught up. I apologize for being behind, but circumstances have been out of my control. I love your writings Carol, and am happy to be reading them again. As I have said on so many occasions, you are a ray of sunshine to many, including me. Sending you much love from me and Tahnee Rose, sure miss seeing you and Marty.
Hey Carol,
My heart goes out to you. Thank you for sharing your story and insight with such wisdom. I understand 100% what you’re saying. We went through this when my husband Jay was fighting his battle with cancer.
God has truly blessed you with the gift of words and common sense (much of what is missing today). I’m praying for you and your family.
Thank you, Dee! My heart ached for you when you and Jay were going through his cancer. I’m glad you shared you story. Thank you for doing that and thank you for your prayers! They are very much appreciated!
Good on you for saying, “I’m sorry” to the woman in paragraph one. Your thoughts hit the bull’s eye so many times there’s no more room for arrows.
I’m sorry, Carol!
If only I could…but I can’t.
So I read your blog to affirm your life and gain wisdom from your sharing. You are special!
Since stumbling onto your blog, I remember you daily to the One who is the Resurrection and the Life.
Again today, Lord Jesus, remember Carol (like You’d ever forget her!).
As my friend says, You rrrrrock!! Your words flow like friend’s laughter!! May we always know what to say , or at least know when not to say anything!! Love and support to you and Your other half!
Thank you, Mike. Thank goodness for the movie, “Moonstruck” which has provided so many one-liners for us!
I found you from BC.org. I loved something you wrote and clicked on your blog. I am 60 with Stage 2. Found my 5cm tumor June of 2021. It was removed with my breast Feb 9,2022 after 13 rounds of chemo. Her2 + and Brca2.
I LOVE what you wrote. My comment to myself when i heard the diagnosis was Really God?
My older sister said stage 2? I will be fine. She does not want to be tested for Brca2. Take her chances! Nothing to say to her!
Our younger sister was tested in Jan, had her ovaries and fall tubes removed like me. She has Brca2 as well.
You have reminded me that less is better. Far less. I’m sorry is enough. and a heart.
Wow, Kathy, you’ve really been through it. It’s hard when someone minimizes your experience. Thank you for your kind words. I truly wish you well!
So glad I get to know your heart and soul. You have blessed me deeply.
Thank you, Shona!
Love you and love your writing.
Thank you, Diana. I know I’ve prayed a few times after I’ve made a stupid comment that God would just wipe that from their memory. Love you, too!
Thanks Carol! Thanks for sharing your journey. Beautiful writing, so honest, funny and touching.
Thank you, Maryann! I always want to keep at least a touch of humor in each post. Inappropriate or not!
I love all your blogs! I didn’t know you are a great writer. I can relate what you write. I have heard many of those well meant but not helpful comments personally. You willingness to share helps me on my journey. Thank you.
Thank you, Sue. I’m sorry you’ve experienced it firsthand.
Carol, sending you a big hug! Thank you so much for your amazing words and insight. As someone who is well meaning but often “opens mouth, inserts foot”, I will thoughtfully consider your words before speaking. Love to you. Didi
Didi, we’ve all been there, right? I cringe to think of things I’ve said, or almost said.
The blog gives the option to “like” it with a star. I didn’t want to “not like it”…but “liking it” seems odd, too. So, love you, love it, love reading your thoughts, love pondering your ponderings and thank you?
Daralee, thank you, and I get it! It’s like someone posts on Instagram or Facebook, “My dog died” and you click the “Like” button. It just feels wrong. At least Facebook now lets you respond with other emotions. I take all “likes” as support. I guess if someone hated what I wrote, they could write that in the comments section. 🙂