Broad Shoulders

Ready for another confession? I have broad shoulders. Yep, I do. Remember when my friend and I went shopping for something for me to wear to our holiday party a year or so ago? We had already selected several pairs of pants for me to try on ... correction ... she had already selected several pairs of pants for me to try on. She then asked what size jacket I wore, and when I told her, she said, "Really? Nuh-uh. Really? But you wear a much smaller size in pants. Really?" I squelched my initial impulse to say, "Are you saying my top half is fat?" and instead explained to her that I have broad shoulders. In fact, most of my jackets are rather loose in the waist because I have to get a bigger size to fit my shoulders. Now before you form a picture of me in your mind that resembles a giant upside-down triangle, let me assure you that's not the case. Well ... at least I don't think that's the case anyway. I will admit, however, that within my little family, I am often told I have no butt ... I believe the term "piddle butt" may have been tossed out from time to time when referring to my lack of ... ummm ... my lack of rear-endedness. What I lack in butt, though, I more than make up for in shoulders ... I do indeed have broad shoulders. Not like huge football player-size broad, mind you, just normal-size broad. Yep, seriously, I have no butt and broad shoulders ... now that I think about it, I suppose that's sort of like getting two confessions for the price of one, eh?

I've been thinking a lot over the last week or so about what it means to have broad shoulders ... about what it means to have broad shoulders emotionally. And in my thinking about the meaning and importance of having emotionally broad shoulders, I've also thought about all the times I've said to someone who was hurting, "I'm here if you need me ... if you need to talk, I've got broad shoulders." I've said those words to those who were grieving the loss of a loved one ... I've said those words to people whose marriages were in trouble ... I've said those words to people who've lost their jobs ... I've said those words to people who were sick or dying. I've said those words to my children. I've said those words to my family. I've said those words to my friends. I said those words last week. I said those words over the weekend. I said those words today. And people listen to those words ... they listen to those words and they believe those words because they trust me to help shoulder whatever load they are carrying that is weighing them down.

As I mentioned in my previous post, I've been sort of down in the dumps for the last several days. Perhaps it's because I spent so much time in the deep dark dungeon of depression not all that long ago, but it scares the living daylights out of me now when that all too familiar sadness begins creeping in on me. Early this afternoon, I was sitting at my desk re-reading an email a friend sent to me on Friday (Friday was an exceptionally rough day for me in the sadness arena) when one of my co-workers walked up and asked if he could talk to me. It only took a few moments for me to realize that the young man needed someone with broad shoulders ... he needed someone with broad shoulders, a listening ear and a caring heart. And as soon as that thought filled my mind, another came flooding in all around it ... the young man needed me. My friend didn't need some random broad shoulders or listening ear or caring heart ... the young man needed my shoulders, my ear, my heart. In that moment, it didn't matter if I was sad or moody or grumpy or distant or too quiet ... in that moment, that young man needed me. Sad or happy or anything in between ... that young man needed me.

I think I'll close tonight with some of the words from my friend's Friday email, but I want to ask that you replace my name with yours. Why? Because we all need to be reminded now and again that we are needed ... every single one of us needs to be reminded that we are needed. And treasured. And valued. And missed. And appreciated. And ... well ... you get the picture. 

I've never really cared much for my physical broad shoulders, you know ... but tonight ... tonight, I'm so very thankful that my emotional shoulders are as broad as those whom I love and care for need them to be. Heck ... I may even be thankful for my piddle butt ... nah, probably not.

"Do what you need to do to get yourself back. You have to. You impact a lot of lives, Terrie. A lot of lives here. A lot of people count on you to be you. Please be you. We need you."