Check in on Your People - episode 252
She is right. It doesn’t take much time to send a text or to phone a friend. Maybe you’ve noticed they are a little bit off, not their usual self. So why not simply say, How are you doing? Are you good? Is everything okay? Jarkeshia McGahee is a mental health advocate who encourages us all to take that moment and to check in on your people. We all need to be seen and to know someone cares. Listening, offering help if needed, sharing resources and understanding the do’s and don’ts when someone opens up are practical ways to meet somebody right where they are at. It might make all the difference. Jarkeshia is our guest this week for Let’s Talk about Mental Health.
Sunshine. Colorful. Caring.
— Jarkeshia McGahee
For Now, We Will Miss You
Thoughts from Check in on Your People
It’s true that you need to check in on your people. It was a great reminder that Jarkeshia gave us all. And what is interesting is that there are people in your inner circle you can check on along with people in the next circle out or even the next circle beyond that that you can reach out to. It matters, and it’s a very small thing to do that can bring comfort and affirmation to someone else.
If you may recall our prayer group friend Emily was killed two weeks ago in a hit and run. (No, they haven’t found the person yet. I imagine they are working on it.) What that has created is an opportunity to reach out to her children, to her sisters, to let them know we are here for them, and that we too loved her. What I think is so beautiful is that in the midst of this pain, goodness can be present.
When we found out the tragic news there were many texts flying back and forth within our group. That led to a Zoom call in which we grieved, reminisced some, and thought of ways we could help. Someone shared a Meal Train with us in addition to a Go-Fund-Me page for Emily’s youngest who is still in college. These are small things that help. As all three of her children banded together (they live in different cities), their closeness was evident and they would need to lean into that. They all went to the crash site and created a memorial of sorts on a city sign. (See below.) The remaining prayer group members decided to meet in person as soon as possible and to go to the site and tend to it, leave flowers, and say a prayer.
That is where we had three divine appointments. (This is what I like to call “chance meetings” that are anything but.) The first man stopped and asked us if we were a friend of the person and we said yes. He went on to tell us he had heard all about it, that he’d lived in the area for 50 years, that traffic had gotten so bad and that there wasn’t a good place to cross the street which is exactly what we had observed. His name is Mickey and he left his contact info. Hardly necessary but oh so thoughtful and sweet. A while later woman named Caron walked by with her son and dog. She stopped to share her condolences. Caron shared that her friend Brock was there the night it happened and that he helped to keep Emily’s daughter back from the horrific scene. That was something you don’t want your kids to see. There were more gruesome details shared but I’ll spare you that. The point was Brock jumped in to be helpful. (Another day someone told us those who were nearby that night had formed a human circle around Emily’s body and that the first man to perform CPR had a daughter with him who held Emily’s hand. People can be so amazing and really if you’re going to go, don’t you want it to be with a circle of kindness around you?) We thanked Caron for stopping by and for sharing with us.
Last up was Jim who parked right next to where we were tending the site. He told us Emily had gone to church with his good friend and that he wanted to take a picture of the makeshift memorial to send to him, and that he wanted to go to the meditation garden nearby and have some reflecting time. Wow. We were grateful for his words and warm thoughts.
Grief is a process and as a guest on the podcast recently said, There is no should in grief. Writing my thoughts here has helped with the processing of the hole in our collective hearts. The night after we found out, I kept hearing the song Jireh, and seeing Emily’s face (smiling and radiant by the way). This went on for the next several days. I didn’t conjure it up, it came. I feel like it was Emily’s way of saying, I’m ok, really I’m good. The first line is, I’ll never be more loved than I am right now. How is that not divine? The next song is Hard Fought Hallelujah. There is something about the power of the music and the lyrics that really moves me. It starts out slowly, builds and really packs a punch. If you need a lift, check them out.
This particular blog is a little all over the place. But I think that it serves as a realistic picture of what grief is actually like. It is all over the place. One minute you are down-in-the-dumps mourning then the next minute you can be smiling and happy remembering the times you shared. Then there is the hope you have (I have) that you will now have that loved-one to look forward to for the rest of your life to be with forever; along with the truth that your sorrow is deep because it is in direct proportion to the love you had for that person, for Emily.
So Emily, we will be there for your children in whatever way that we can, and whatever way they will allow. We will mourn for you, we will celebrate the time we shared with happiness and gratitude, we will hug your sisters when we finally get to meet them, and above all, for now, we will miss you.
You are sad because you loved. And that is a very good thing.
Better to have loved and lost than not to have loved at all.
- Alfred Lord Tennyson
The make-shift memorial in honor of Emily near the crash site in Encinitas - Leucadia taken by Jim, divine appointment #3.
