My Friend Gerda

My friend Gerda is dying. She has cancer and its been a very long and painful process for her. She is on a strong dose of morphine now and is in the transitional state between this world and the next while under the 24 hour care of her two children and friends.

Gerda is deaf and I don't know sign language. In the earlier years of our friendship we would write notes back and forth on napkins in dark noisy bars when we would be out dancing. I have a memory of perhaps the first night I met Gerda, calling AAA for her with my membership and waiting with her for the tow truck to arrive when her car wouldn't start after a late night out. She came to Jerry's and my wedding and I had arranged for another friend to sign the ceremony for her. She gifted us with a beautiful hand stitched wall hanging, commemorating our union.

Although I've been friends with Gerda for many years, I have chosen to keep a distance between us. Communication was obviously difficult but one thing that always came across very clear to me in our connection was that Gerda identified with being a victim. I had a difficult time with that. I always felt hesitant and somewhat resistant toward extending myself as her friend. Something about the way I perceived her relationship with life and the role that she seemed to be requesting of me left me feeling uncomfortable. Being her friend required effort and an openhearted patience that wasn't easy for me to muster and which I often preferred to avoid. And yet, she was always kind and loving, always sweet and generous, always offering me a smile, a hug and inquiring of me and my family's welfare.

As Gerda is dying, surrounded by her family and friends, I find myself dealing with some regret of my inability to be a better friend to her. I feel the imminent lost of opportunity for human connection and unconditional love. Gerda has been a great teacher to me, inspiring contemplation at my lack of compassion and the derogatory superiority I hold towards the victim. This indicates a self denial of sorts. The triggering of my own inner victim when I'm confronted with another's victim consciousness. What is it that I still do not understand about my inner victim? I suspect my tender spot is related to my fear of buying into its delusion. I've identified and lived in victim consciousness for a good portion of my life. Its powerless and painful there and I still have the tendency to travel to this pathetic place. This not only scares me, it embarrasses me. Embarrassment, what a self conscious obstruction to the truth. Oh the ego, it is insidious.

But understanding the role of victim is not an easy one. Look at the human condition--war, rape, murder, genocide, torture, hunger, violence, anger, sadness, greed, hunger, pain...the various abuses perpetrated against children. Being a victim seems to come hand in hand with who and what we are. Why is peace with self and others so seemingly difficult to attain?

I was 26/27 years old when I first discovered my own victim consciousness. This awareness still proves to be one of the most empowering and freeing moments of my life. I've since spent the same number of years working to step out of this deceptive role and understand how it impacts my life.

Blessings to you Gerda. I pray for your last days to be peaceful and your suffering light. May you die in the loving arms of your family and friends. Thank you for being my friend. I love you.