Friends

By David Van Diest

No longer buoyant enough to stay aloft, the bright yellow, smiley-faced, helium balloon that had become a familiar sight in our living room finally succumbed to the inevitable. The once taut balloon, just like my once taut, unwrinkled face, now showed its age as it struggled to maintain both its smile and its elevation. An updraft of heat from the wood stove shot it back up to the ceiling from where it had fallen. Momentarily. It then drifted across the room, lost altitude again and then fell back down toward the wood stove to start the circle over.

For nearly two months its smiley face had been a daily reminder of a friend’s caring. Today I reminisced and smiled back as the balloon cycled up and down several times. This had been a rough day, so its smile was a needed reminder and respite from the intensity.

A good friend had brought me that smiley-faced balloon during my stay in the hospital a couple of months back. Actually, he brought nine balloons, all with random phrases on them like “Happy Birthday” or “You’re the Best” or “Happy Anniversary” … and this big yellow one with a smiley face on it. Prior to coming to the hospital, he called my wife and asked what he could do for me and, knowing exactly what I needed, she said, “Bring life!” He arrived in my hospital room, not just with the board game Life, but also with the bouquet of balloons floating behind him. He explained that he purchased ten but could only fit nine in the small trunk of his two seated Honda S-2000 convertible. He also explained how he and the Dollar Tree clerk struggled to corral all ten balloons in his tiny trunk. Unable to fit all ten, he left one rebel balloon for the clerk who went away that day with a balloon, a funny story, and likely a bit more joy from the experience.

It didn’t make good business sense for him to come visit me that day… to carve out precious hours from his work for this. You see, he is self-employed and had worked every day for a month and a half just to keep up with incoming orders and there was no end in sight. A stop at the store and a visit to the hospital didn’t get him closer to getting his work done.

But more than funny balloons and games, he brought value and worth to me that day. I was important enough to him to sacrifice his precious time to deliver the invaluable message that “I’m worth the sacrifice to him.” As I type these words tears of gratitude fill my eyes and the inexpressible and overwhelming sense that this kind of gesture doesn’t make worldly sense but makes all the sense in the world.

Being in the hospital sucks. You’re poked and prodded constantly and awakened two or three times in the middle of the night to be poked and prodded again. But the uncertainty and discomfort that is ever-present at the hospital was offset by those who came, those who brought with them worth and value. Upon hearing of my unexpected hospital stay, another good friend dropped everything from his busy day and made the three hour drive with his wife from Central Oregon to Gresham delivering the same message … you are worth the sacrifice. He’s done this for me many times in the past… dropping everything to be there for me in tough times. Many others came as well.

Upon leaving the hospital, my wife and I decided to give away all but one of the balloons to other patients. As we were preparing to leave, a woman from the children’s ward came by and gladly took eight to distribute amongst the kids stuck in the hospital. I kept the one with a smiley face as a reminder of the joy good friends brought that day. Initially, I tied the balloon to my office door nob but recognized the impracticality of that and released it to be free in the peak of our vault. Every day its smile reminded me of my friend’s sacrifice.

Many of the people I see in my counseling practice are struggling with self-esteem… of feeling worthy or valuable. They often describe being discouraged, worthless, numb or worse… they don’t have hope for the future because their past has confirmed their belief of their worthlessness over and over again. They don’t feel they are worthy or valuable because daily life constantly sucks it out of them.

It’s connection with positive people that infuses us with worth and value. And the strange thing about this is it works both ways. Doing something for someone without expecting anything in return brings worth and value to the one doing the kind act as well as to the one receiving the kind act. To get a little “brain science” nerdy on you, when someone does a selfless act for another, they receive a shot of oxytocin (a feel-good chemical your brain produces). It’s what I call the “natural anti-depression chemical.” The incredible thing is, the person doing the kind act receives a shot of oxytocin, the person the kind act was done for receives a shot of oxytocin, and anyone witnessing that kind act receives a shot of oxytocin, too.

Everyone is struggling with something. Many are carrying burdens no one will ever know about. Their hearts are heavy and disheartened. For others, the past few weeks may have just been especially hard or tedious.

So, this week I encourage you to bring a wrinkly smile to someone today… and maybe even bring a smiley-faced balloon along too.

David Van Diest has his master's degree in counseling from Multnomah University and is an LPC (Licensed Professional Counselor) Intern in Gresham Oregon, a suburb of Portland. He focuses on counseling men (and women) through depression, addictions, anxiety, life transitions, men's issues, parenting & family, etc. To contact David, email him at davidvandiest@gmail.com or visit www.davidvandiest.com.