Empathy

Last night the dog I'm sitting (Gulley the Border Collie) was having some trouble with one of his ears.  For the past few days he's been scratching and shaking his head, trying to relieve his discomfort.  Being the scrupulous (i.e., nervous) caregiver I am, I had found a home remedy from a vet online and administered it to him a couple of days ago.  To both our delight, it worked immediately and Gulley found relief.  But last night it started up again.  As it happens, his scratching and head-shaking are somehow much louder at 2am when they wake me up.  And I - like many others - am not at my best when I'm awakened in the middle of the night.  So I yelled at him.  Like a jerk.  Then realizing he wasn't going to stop (why should he? I wouldn't stop scratching if my ear itched, either), I got up and prepared and administered the same home treatment (soapy water, clean water, vinegar and water, cortizone cream).  Expecting the same satisfying results as the last time, I went back to bed.......... and Gulley kept scratching and shaking his head.  At that point, I realized to my deep distress that there was nothing more I could do.  So I reached over and just pet him and spoke softly to him. 

It was in this response that I suddenly realized: this was exactly what my dad has been doing for my mom for the past 14 months as she has undergone chemo for cancer (she's fine now).  And it dawned on me that for whatever distress I was feeling at being the helpless caregiver to this dog, imagine what my dad has been feeling night after night as he caresses my mom's back as she vomits into the toilet at 2am.  So many lessons to ponder: the deep holiness of my father, the value of presence even when it is powerless to "fix", and some insight into Isaiah's "suffering servant."  Empathy can suck, but it's part of being human, and part of what connects us to one another.  I hope to be given the grace to desire it more and more.