I was thinking recently about fragility in health, in love, in friendship, in human connections… in life. My son and daughter went to play laser tag downtown a few nights ago with friends. I began to worry around 9 o’clock when I should have gotten a call to pick them up at the meeting point. I called my daughter and she was upset, one of her friends had collapsed during the game and was being taken away by ambulance. It was scary for my daughter and my son to see their friend lying there, incoherent, partially paralyzed — they felt helpless and fragile. It made me think of my youngest daughter and how fragile her health can be at times.
She has a severe allergy to nuts. I carry an epipen everywhere — just in case. She has a special seat at school that is kept free of nuts and the dreaded peanut butter. Yet one day her fragility made itself known. She had gotten just the slightest sprinkling of peanut butter on her finger and subsequently on her lip — a smidgen… less than a taste. Her lip swelled immediately and her eyes closed — time and a bath made her better. Sometimes simple things can cause the frailness that is in us to leave — if only momentarily.
I was 38 years old when I hugged my best friend for the first time. We have been best friends since we were 5 — we both escaped our childhoods being non-emotional, non-feeling, non-hugging friends. Yet, we love one another. Sometimes I confuse even myself. Our first hug was awkward and laughable — we both said, “we can do this”, to each other as we went in for the hug… we laughed. And in that hug, in our awkward huggable moment, we connected even more with each other — we erased some fragility.
Fragility in life is everywhere. In the people we love and in those we barely know. I know what is means to be fragile… to be in need of a hand to hold and a friend to talk to. I know what it means to help someone I love when they are fragile. Fragile doesn’t last. It can be fixed — I like to fix things when they’re broken.
I think we all have fragility in us, sometimes… unfortunately, sometimes. But still even though by nature we are fragile, by nature we break, we still carry on. We still move through life with a semblance of carefree bliss and a need to leap… again. We love and laugh and care and we express ourselves through words that can often leave us open and vulnerable and… broken. Because we’re fragile. We hope that we connect with people who recognize our strengths and our frailties, we hope they accept our imperfections and that they continue to love us and care about us in our often fragile and sometimes broken states. We hope they add to the army that builds us back… that makes us whole again. If those people exist… if by chance we are fortunate to find them and keep them close to our hearts and our souls — then maybe, we won’t continue to break. Maybe, we aren’t too fragile.
Picture from Kind Over Matter
I’m speechless (don’t faint). I think you must be inside my head this week – of course you aren’t but you have given me twice what I needed to read, thank you. xo #blove (to infinity) :o)
Ok — I’m taking your speechless as a compliment although I love it when you’re not speechless so I’m a little sad. 😉
But seriously — thank you for being here and reading and being there and talking and being you!
@ Caroline ~ Becky consistently has that effect on me as well. I am always (lovingly) accusing her of being in my head.
@ Becky ~ I love that you so willingly share what is in your heart and in your head.
Yes, we are fragile. However, it is sometimes hard to admit. Too often I have put myself in the position of “being strong” and not letting anyone see how much I was hurting. I wouldn’t even admit it to myself until it would build up so much that I would dissolve into tears. I am learning to admit it to myself, but it is still very hard for me to ask for help.
Thank you, for writing, for allowing us to know you through your words. In this as in many of your previous posts, I have seen a reflection of my own life.
Being fragile is very hard to admit, I think… until we find someone who is fragile too and they can admit it and in their admittance we see their strength and therefore we can begin to see our own strength. So through fragility, we find wholeness.
Thank you Mary!
Well said, Becky. Our fragility is both our weakness and our strength. Our weakness in that it can, and does, so often bring us to the edge and our strength in that it is what causes us to reach out to others…to take a chance in trusting another fragile human such as ourselves.
Excellent comment Laurette — I totally agree…we find strength through our weaknesses.
***hugs and love***
Hugs and love from you are worth any admittance of fragility!
I’ve often wondered if you are so empathetic, so in-tune with your friends in the Twitterverse, if that is your source of inspiration for many of your posts, B. Reading the comments often shows that what you are writing about is what we are thinking about and feeling at that time.
I was so fragile the day you posted this that I could not comment. Unfortunately, when I am the most fragile, the most vulnerable, my defense mechanism kicks in and I get aggressive. I’ve been this way since a very young age, so somewhere back then I learned to attack in order to protect myself. It’s probably my biggest fault, and I really hate it.
Watching your growth is awesome and awe-inspiring! From the woman who didn’t hug her best friend for 33 years to the woman who just publicly tweeted “Love you” to me. 😉
I hope that everyone also saw your poem “Fragile” as I think it is one of your best.
Thanks for sharing and inspiring us to try to be better.
*Giant Squishy Hugs*
Ha! I did tweet that didn’t I?! Wow — I didn’t even realize.
Ha again at trying to draw attention to my poems goober!
Ok — I don’t know about the empathy part of me… maybe. But, I do listen and read and sometimes feel what I’m reading from others but maybe because it pulls something in me out as well, something that I’m already feeling. Hmmm?
I think that recognizing what you’re doing, the anger part, will/is helping you not do it, you know?