The hospice experience for my mother has so far been a wonderful thing.  She is constantly monitored for pain and discomfort and instant adjustments are made by a wonderfully caring and professional staff to keep her pain free and comfortable.  A wide assortment of chaplains and councilors are regularly paying not only my mother visits but the family as well.

With that said, I have also received a flood of support from my closest friends.  Many have chosen to come and "keep me company" while I sit with my mother.  One of my dearest friends, who I have consistently advised that there was nothing he could do for me,  took me out for a beer a few nights ago.  During the first few quiet and somber moments at the old scared bar my friend put his hand on my shoulder and looked me right in the eyes and said, "I don't mind being useless for you."

My quizzical look begged him to continue, to explain what he meant.

"I know there is nothing I can really do to make any of this any better, but I want to just be there for you.  And if that means just sitting and being useless, then that's what I'll do."

There was amazing power in that simple confession of impotence, and I, for the first time during this ordeal, understood how much my friends where sitting by in quiet torment not knowing what to do.  That shared acknowledgment of our mutual feelings of "powerlessness" pulled me out of a place of complete loneliness and isolation.  For too long I had felt abandoned, like I had the proverbial "scarlet letter" on my chest, that my friends were afraid that my "bad luck" might be contagious.  I know better today.

So far the only "take away" from this experience for me that is worth sharing is this:

Just being willing to be useless for your friends when they are going through some kind of trial or tribulation is more than enough.  You (I) don't have to have a fix or answer to be of value.   The quiet willingness to sit in stoic support is a huge gift of the heart.