Nights Like These

I remember hearing a story about a woman whose family had suffered a loss. I don’t remember the details, but I think their daughter had died, and the husband, wife and son were in mourning. The woman talked about the women from church and other ladies in town who came by and brought casseroles and other food for the family, but they also brought a level of stress to the family because, like most of us, those women didn’t really know how to react in such a situation. They were always offering their condolences and asking what else they could do to help. The woman said their presence was overwhelming, and she eventually told them thank you for all the food but to please not bring any more by.

The woman’s father was an older man, and he lived in the same town. He was widowed, and he’d seen plenty of goodness and plenty of loss in his day. He came to visit the family almost every evening. He didn’t bring a casserole and he wasn’t always asking what he could do to help. He brought a book. And he would just sit with the family in the living room. They would often go about their business. At times they’d talk to him and he’d listen. Sometimes they’d cry and he’d comfort. The woman said he brought a sense of peace to their home. When she would ask if there was anything she could get for him, he’d say, “No ma’am. I’m just here to sit.” Unlike those other folks, he knew that, in such a situation, the best thing a person can do is just be there.

I’ve not recently suffered a loss. In fact, things in my life are going pretty well. But sometimes, on nights like these, I think how nice it would be to have someone just here to sit.