When Zar, one of my best friends, lost his closest friend, Yehudah Yudkowsky, to a car accident, I went to the
hesped he held at the kotel the first
motsa"sh after Yehudah's death.
I watched as Zar talked about his best friend with horrible pain in every word and showing on his face.
I wanted so badly to hug him, and tell him that it would be okay, he would get through this. Or even just to cradle him in my arms and let him cry until he had no more tears left.
I knew Yehudah, but not nearly as well as Zar.
What pained me the most, what drove me mad, was that I could do nothing for Zar. I could not, in any way, ease his pain. I couldn't remove any of his pain and take it upon myself, which I was more than willing to do.
All I could do was repeat the empty words of, "I'm here, I'm here to listen if you want to just cry, I'm here for you."
A few weeks later, an English yeshiva guy came to the miyun with horrible abdominal pain.
The doctor knew what it was but there was no treatment for it. It wasn't chronic, B"H, but he was still in such terrific pain.
When he was moved upstairs to
cherurgia (surgery floor) I went to see how he was doing every so often. He couldn't eat, or drink. He was in a horrible mood and still in terrible pain, only slightly eased.
Again, I found myself in a situation where I could do nothing to help or ease the pain.
It's a feeling indescribable, you have to experience it to really know what it feels like to be totally helpless. To watch someone suffer so terribly and all you can do is mutter empty words of so-called comfort. This person doesn't want to hear it. They want relief from the pain they are feeling, whether physical or emotional. Hearing someone who isn't suffering and doesn't know what this pain feels like, just aggrivates the pain, or mildly soothes the horrible, deep ache inside the sufferer.
You stand there, watching the person's eyes shut tight with whatever pain they are feeling. It is especially hard, like the case with Zar, when the sufferer is a guy and you are a shomeret negiah girl. Gestures (actions) definitely speak louder than words in such cases, but what if you can't gesture? Words are hollow of any meaning a hug could have. You want so badly to do something for this person, prove that you are a good friend, you are there to comfort. But it doesn't help.
In worse cases, even if you've been through a similar experience, it doesn't help the sufferer, they don't care if the whole world feels their pain, they don't want it. It hurts so badly, they just want it to go away...
I wish this guy and Zar knew how badly I wanted to help them, how I would have taken all their pain on myself just so they wouldn't have to know this pain. Although, it is important for every person to feel pain, I believe, but I guess if I could have it my way, I would have it that I wouldn't be there to take it for them, or they could experience it in moderation but enough to make them think about how it could be so much worse.
When I went to the session with Papa, Dr. Mark asked me why I was so upset to be venting my feelings to Papa. I said I didn't want to inflict pain on him. The reply I got was that sometimes pain is necessary for progress and I agree with that. The pain I went through with my depression and the rest of the hell of eleventh grade, matured me so much. I look back at tenth grade and then twelveth and think, man, I was such a baby in tenth grade, I had so much to learn! As painful as eleventh grade was, and America in general, it was all necessary in building who I am.
I suppose that's why I couldn't take their pain away. They needed it to mature themselves, to grow from it. But I still wish they knew how much I cared.
