What Does Showing Up for Someone During a Difficult Time Really Look Like?

What Does Showing Up for Someone During a Difficult Time Really Look Like?

By Cheryl Dobbins Hege

I've had the privilege of caring for more than five family members during the final stages of their lives. Each experience was different, and none was easy. But when I look back, what stands out most isn't how difficult those days were. It's how grateful I am that I had the opportunity to be there.

When someone you love is nearing the end of their life, you begin to understand just how precious time really is. Weeks become days, days become hours, and sometimes all you have left are minutes. I couldn't change what was happening or give them more time, but I could do everything within my power to make the time they had left as comfortable and meaningful as possible. To me, that was a privilege and an honor.

I was very intentional about making those remaining moments the best they could be. Sometimes that meant telling stories, reminiscing or playing their favorite music. Other times, it meant recognizing that they needed quiet. They didn't necessarily want someone talking nonstop or music playing when all they wanted was to rest. I would gently rub their hands, make sure they were comfortable and pay attention to the little things that might make their day, or even the next few minutes, a little better. More than anything, I wanted them to know they weren't alone and that they were truly loved.

It wasn't about doing anything extraordinary. It was about understanding what they needed and doing my best to provide it. I couldn't make the situation go away, but I could try to make it a little easier for them.

As meaningful as those experiences were, I would be doing a disservice to other caregivers if I didn't acknowledge how demanding they could be. During most of these times, I was also working a full-time job, managing everyday responsibilities and trying to find enough hours in the day to do it all. At one point, both of my parents were hospitalized and needed care afterward. Their needs overlapped for more than six months, and balancing their care with work and everything else was physically and emotionally exhausting.

I was fortunate to have understanding employers and supervisors who recognized what I was going through and allowed me the flexibility to work remotely. I could continue meeting my professional responsibilities while being available for my family, often getting my work done around their needs instead of having to be in an office. That trust and understanding made an enormous difference, and I've always been grateful for it.

There were still long days, sleepless nights and times when I wondered how I would find the energy to do it all again the next day. I wanted to be there for my loved ones, but that didn't mean I wasn't tired or overwhelmed. I think that's something we need to talk about more openly. You can consider caring for someone one of the greatest honors of your life and still acknowledge that it takes a tremendous toll on you. Both things can be true.

I'm especially grateful to my husband, who understood just how much was being asked of me. There were times when our plans, our routines and even our life together had to take a back seat because someone I loved needed me. He was patient, supportive and willing to step in when I couldn't do everything. What meant so much wasn't just the practical help, although that was invaluable. It was that he never made me feel guilty for the time I couldn't give him or for being needed somewhere else. He understood, and that meant more to me than I can say.

Other family members helped in ways that might seem small but meant the world to me. A load of laundry, a prepared meal or the chance to close my eyes and catch a little sleep could make all the difference. When you're taking care of someone else, sometimes having someone take care of those everyday things is exactly what you need. Looking back, I realize that while I was caring for my loved ones, my husband, family and even my employers were helping make that possible in their own ways.

When I reflect on being with loved ones during their final days and moments, my feelings are mixed. There's peace in knowing I was there and did everything I could to make them comfortable and help them pass as peacefully as possible. There's also a sense of pride, not because I did anything extraordinary, but because I had the opportunity to care for someone during one of the most vulnerable times of their life.

But there's sadness, too, and it never completely goes away. Every time I've cared for someone through the final stages of their life and eventually had to say goodbye, I've felt as though a little piece of my soul went with them. Yet I wouldn't trade those experiences for anything. In those moments, it wasn't about me. It was about them. I wanted to make the best of a very difficult situation and do whatever I could to make their remaining time as good as possible.

I think one of the biggest things I've learned through all of this is that showing up for someone doesn't have to be complicated. We sometimes worry about finding the right words, knowing what to do or whether we're doing enough. But often, it's about paying attention to what another person needs. It might be sitting quietly beside someone, helping with everyday responsibilities or understanding that a person you love needs to devote their time and attention somewhere else for a while.

I've been fortunate enough to be there for people I loved during some of the most difficult moments of their lives, and I've been equally fortunate to have people who were there for me. Those experiences have taken a piece of my soul, but they've also given me something I will carry for the rest of my life: the peace of knowing I was there when it mattered most.

I couldn't give my loved ones more time. But I could give them my time, my attention and my love. And I will always consider that a privilege and an honor.