Do you have those friends that know where the bodies are buried? Of course I don't mean that literally, but who knows all of the tea in your life? I am not talking about the "What do you want to be when you grow up?" kind of conversations. I am talking about the hard stuff. Like "Do you want to be buried or cremated?" and "Who will be guardian of your kids should something happen?" Are you having those hard conversations with anyone? They are uncomfortable, awkward, and often painful, but they need to be had.
I have had these conversations a lot more recently. There were (and are) a lot of tears. It has been painful, but surprisingly, somewhat therapeutic. It becomes less awkward as we talk and it spurs on all kinds of interesting things to be learned from each other. It is almost like we should have parties at each others' houses to say this is where I keep the checkbook, this is where the passwords are, and this is what I want when _______ (you fill in the blank).
It is also a reminder that there is so much value to living in community. As we have all been living in such isolation for the year, that community has become fragmented and distanced. I am guilty of it for sure. I get lost in the land of plastic toys and bubble machines in our backyard, trying to get through the day without worrying if one of us contracted COVID-19 and what our jobs will look like tomorrow. I have been guilty of not leaving voicemails. Preferring a text over a phone call. And email over Zoom. But I have been stopped in my tracks. I am making the phone calls to say the things I mean. I am writing the longer messages to tell people that they are on my heart and mind. I am asking people to come help us care for our son so that we are not always walking in that alone. There is such beauty in the fellowship and also such release from all of the pressures being able to share in those precious moments of life. The other night I asked my mother-in-law and sister-in-law to come help me with Thomas' dinner and night routine. It turned out to be a memory forever etched in my brain as we sat in his room and sang songs. He loved the audience and I loved that he was able to see that there are so many people caring for him and loving him.
So many times I have found myself saying we need to pause and say what is on our hearts. We need to share where the "bodies are buried." Life is hard enough that we shouldn't be walking it alone.
