Most of the time, the atomization of our society makes us feel isolated, far apart from each other. Cyber friends are scoffed at, labeled "not real," while "meat" friends often disappear at the first hint of a desperate situation.
For the past 15 months, my family has been going through a crisis that left me feeling, all to often, isolated and in despair. Many people that I thought I could count on vanished.
If you've never asked for help - especially financial help - you might not know how difficult it is. Even among progressives, I've seen people scorned and criticized and blamed when they ran into financial challenges they could not handle alone. When you are already feeling as fragile as blown glass, the risk involved in putting yourself out in a public forum, your vulnerabilities highlighted for all to see - well, it's terrifying. I didn't want to do it.
But I needed help for my child. He's an adult child, but he's still my child, and he's been through hell. And so I asked for help. I asked for money to repair my home so my son, who is recovering from a bone marrow transplant, can safely return to it. Mold had rendered it unsafe for him. So I wrote a diary. I hit "publish" and held my breath. Because I was afraid. So much had happened that made me feel so very far apart from this community, from all communities. From all "normal" life, "normal" people.
And I waited.
And this community came through for me in a way that made me weep with gratitude. Thanking people for giving you hope is not something to be done lightly. I have been trying to figure out how to thank the young man who donated bone marrow to my son so that he could live, a 22 year old European stranger - what could I begin to say that would be adequate? I feel the same way now. Words won't work; I know that. The fact is, though, I don't feel distant and isolated today. I feel part of a community that cares. And it feels so near.....