I was sitting on a plastic couch in a hospital waiting room sobbing in that heart wrenching way you do when you are racked with grief. I had just finished making those difficult phone calls to friends and family, when one of my sisters sat down beside me. She put her arm around me as I wept. She gave me a squeeze and said, “Hey. Come on. Lean in.”  And I did. And it felt so good at that moment, when I felt utterly alone despite being surrounded by family. I leaned in. It felt so good to share the burden. It did not stop my heart from breaking or the tears from falling.  But that simple touch, knowing she shared that grief with me and in some way (that defies algebra) adding her grief to mine, actually lessened it.  That simple phrase, “Lean in”, just stayed with me all night. I realized I need to learn to lean in more. I realized I don’t lean in enough and I wondered why.  It’s a problem. I live in a country built on fierce independence. Where we pull ourselves up by our bootstraps. Where we get back in the saddle. Where we rub some dirt on it.  Where we get up, brush ourselves off, and do it again. That ethic is in every line of my family and it runs deep. We come from strong people who crossed oceans with almost nothing in our hands and absolute determination, blind courage and deep faith in our hearts. Somehow, I don’t think leaning in was a strategy they used much, and it certainly wasn’t a strategy they passed down our line.  “Get up”, “move forward”, “never let them see you sweat”? Yes.  “Lean in”? Not so much.  Don’t get me wrong, that fierce spirit has served me very well. That is not going to change.   I even remind my daughter often “Shea Girls are fierce!”.  But there is a time to lean in. There is a time to accept support and help. There is a time to share the burden.  So, I am going to lean in when I need to.  I am even going to lean in without being told to.  Thanks to my little sister for reminding me to lean in.

This photo (though it is short one Shea Girl) really spoke to me for this post. I am the one on my dad’s lap.  My “Lean In” sister is smiling in the background (she was a really giggly, joyful little girl), trying to get to us.  My dad is reaching out to my oldest sister.  Every one leaning in with love.

285a David Angie Patty Catherine Shea 1967

Copyright Catherine Matthews 2018.

10 responses to “Lean In”

  1. Catherine, what a beautiful and poignant reminder for us all to embrace all of life- the celebrations, the hard things, the joy, the grief. God bless you during your time of grief. Your friends are leaning in with you. 💓

    1. Thank you- I can truly feel all of you leaning in. Much love 💗

  2. Catherine – thanks for being willing to share your thoughts and feelings as you mourn you Dad/Uncle David. For you to share such personal thoughts is not only an honor to him and your relationship but a huge kindness to family and friends. By sharing you open the door to others who may not know how to do so. It is really fun to see the family pictures you have posted. We’ve been thinking about you and family a lot the past few days – know that we are all here with you in moments you feel alone.

    1. Thank you so many ch for your kind words. We have all really felt the love of family and friends.

  3. So true! I am still that way…even though I try to “lean in”?

    1. It takes practice!💓

  4. Love.

  5. Such a wonderful piece. Thank you for writing and reminding us. I hope it is ok if I copy and send it on to others?
    With your name, of course. Jan Curtis

    1. Thanks for the note! I’m so glad you liked it. Of course, you are welcome to share with credit.

  6. […] catches, and I am transported back in time. Sometimes I am moved to laughter and other times to tears but always I can feel these moments like they happened yesterday.  Like the other night, I was […]

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