The DHX: The Doughtie Houses Exchange

When Kathy was sick in the hospital I didn’t know if she’d want me to come see her. Yes, we are friends, and yes, we love each other, but I wasn’t sure if she’d just want space and privacy and not to have to deal with me when she was in pain and getting ready for an operation.

So when I asked her if there was anything I could do — if she wanted me to come visit, or bring her anything — and she said “Yeah, I want you to just come hang out with me for however long you can — bring a book or something so I don’t feel like I have to entertain you, but having company would be nice” — I felt loved. I felt important. I felt useful and like part of the inner circle. Not loved like “yeah, we’re in each other’s lives and we’re fond of each other,” but loved like my presence would make things better. There’s a difference somehow. I felt wanted.

So I came with my book and my laptop and kept her company, and sat with one of her best friends who also came in.

That afternoon, she let me brush her hair.

We talk a lot, but we don’t touch very much. Which makes sense, I guess. But she’d been in the hospital for a couple of days and her hair had tangled up and she said she wished she could brush it. I found her a brush (and felt quite thrilled to be useful), and when I saw that she might have trouble since she was in so much pain, I asked her if she wanted me to brush it for her, and she let me.

I don’t know how to explain why this was so touching. It felt like she trusted me, and like I could nurture her, and she accepted it, and there was something deeply healing in that for me. I was as gentle as I could be, and I went slowly and worked all the knots out.

We’ve had our hard times in the past. Yes, we love each other. Yes, we still have tension sometimes. But we had some really awful times in the beginning, and I guess I felt forgiven. I knew that she had accepted me, but I didn’t feel how deeply until then.