Ask anyone that truly knows me, and they will speak of my supporting nature. Back hurting and numb behind, I will sit on a bleacher for a sport, graduation, concert, cheerleading competition, and any other event my presence is requested. I will walk/march, fundraise, and attend a charitable event; let me know and I will be there. At baby showers, birthday parties, and special occasion dinners, I will not only attend the event; but I come early to assist in decorating and leave late to disassemble. I will sit in hospitals or homes when you are sick. When there’s a death in the family, I will be there every day to clean, cook, assist with the flow of visiting traffic, and funeral arrangements if needed. I make myself available to assist others with nothing more than a request for my presence. I do it because I care.
All this to say, I attended an event for someone dear. During the closing remarks the honoree became emotional. A heartfelt expression of gratitude and a disclosure of personal health challenges accompanied with bouts of depression was shared. This person has been extremely supportive to many, and it shocked me to know they have suffered alone. What started as a celebration of life turned into a plea for sustained life. The extremely supportive person expressed the need of care- not financial or medical, but emotional. A caring heart that has willing sacrificed themselves asked for a reciprocation of support and encouragement during a hard season of life. We were moved to tears, showed love, compassion, and pledged our support.
Leaving the event, I began to soul search. I care but assume that others will contact me when I am needed. Obviously not. Now there are those that will call me up and say, “put me on your calendar.” But like myself, there are those who live to serve others and are unwilling to voice their personal need. When you are constantly supporting others, you deceive yourself into thinking there is no one to support you. But that is not the truth! We all are in this together. Supporting, loving, and encouraging each other through good and bad times. It’s up to each person to acknowledge and make a request for their need. And although this sounds good and look good on paper, I will not follow my own advice. Concluding that other diehard supporters will not as well.
Why? I can’t speak for other supporters, but my issue is childhood rejection. I had a miserable childhood. Rejection, poverty, and no concept of self-worth created the supporter in me. I know how it feels to win an award at school and have no family members in the audience. I also know how it feel not to be able to attend the event, receive it in class, and everyone laugh. Because they know your family doesn’t have a car; therefore, you couldn’t make it to the ceremony. I have performed to an audience of strangers, won awards and accolades that my family had no idea existed. I’ve had no visit hospitalizations and moments where I desired companionship. Long story short, I attend events because I care. But I also attend because I am very familiar with the heartbreak of sharing success, failures, and other memorable moments with a group of strangers or alone. And I know that a million strangers may extend well intended congratulations, compassion, or condolences; but it does not compare to the support of a familiar face.
So, I am not going to wait for a call. I am going to extend a listening ear, assistance, and care to supporters. I will offer a safe environment to be vulnerable. Interrupt their support of others with a request for lunch, dinner, or a walk in the park. Invite them to rest, refresh, and unburden themselves. 
Supporters (for whatever reason) only know how to give support and are not good at receiving; but I will extend the offer. So, what’s the takeaway. We must not forget to care for the ones that care for others, because they probably won’t ask.
