Was it a power outage or angels?
My private practice began in a local church. And while I didn’t have a specialty back then, I did end up with quite a few grief cases. One was a lovely woman (Marcia) in her 50′s whose father was in a nursing home just barely hanging on. Marcia’s mother and sister had long abandoned him and Marcia visited him every day.
“I am not ready for him to leave me.” she whispered through tears.
As a very green therapist, I had no idea what to do or say. I nodded empathically while I searched my internal toolbox of therapeutic interventions.
And nothing came – no brilliant thing to say or thing to do. So I just kept nodding like some bobble head doll and occasionally murmuring, “I know. I know.”
When she left, Marcia thanked me for the session. She came back for 3 more sessions and we both did the same. She talked about “letting go” of her dad and I nodded and said “I know.”
Fast forward about a month. The Rodney King trial verdict resulted in horrible rioting and looting in Los Angeles. While I didn’t live downtown, I could still see the fires from my home and our power was going off and on. While I watched in horror, my pager beeped. Betty at my answering service left a message that Marcia had called. “You better call her right away,” Betty advised. When I could get to a phone that worked, I called her.
Marcia answered with “Casey, oh my gosh! How did you know to call me? My Dad died today.”
Apparently, Marcia had not left a message with my answering service for me to call her. While that was freaking me out, I went back to listening.
“I think my father was hanging on for me. And the work we did together – you and I? Well, I think he knew I would be okay if he left – that I was able to let him go. While I am very sad, I am so grateful to you. You have no idea how important that was. You helped me let him go.”
Now part of me was still wondering how my answering service got a message that Marcia didn’t leave. I tried to brush that away to just be there for her.
Four sessions. I said almost nothing except the occasional “I know.”
Marcia moved to a part of the world where she’d always wanted to live and we didn’t stay in contact. I continued with my practice at the church. Life goes on.
Six months later my mother passed away. Marcia kept coming to my mind. Suddenly I realized that in those four sessions with her, I had been “pre-grieving” the loss of my own ill mother.
After a lovely memorial mass for my mother, I stopped by my mail box at the church.
Postmarked from an exotic country was a card from Marcia.
It simply said “I know. I know.”
No matter how old I get or how long I do this work, I am amazed at how connected we are to each other. Maybe it is Chaos theory. A butterfly in Brazil affects the weather in Kansas. Maybe it a God or the Universe connecting us in ways we could ever imagine.
All I know is that being a therapist is not just a calling but a gift – to you who do the work and to those you serve. And while you might never be aware of the incredible impact you make in this world, I just want you to know, that …
I know.
I’d love to hear your thoughts and your stories here.
My private practice began in a local church. And while I didn’t have a specialty back then, I did end up with quite a few grief cases. One was a lovely woman (Marcia) in her 50′s whose father was in a nursing home just barely hanging on. Marcia’s mother and sister had long abandoned him and Marcia visited him every day.
“I am not ready for him to leave me.” she whispered through tears.
As a very green therapist, I had no idea what to do or say. I nodded empathically while I searched my internal toolbox of therapeutic interventions.
And nothing came – no brilliant thing to say or thing to do. So I just kept nodding like some bobble head doll and occasionally murmuring, “I know. I know.”
When she left, Marcia thanked me for the session. She came back for 3 more sessions and we both did the same. She talked about “letting go” of her dad and I nodded and said “I know.”
Fast forward about a month. The Rodney King trial verdict resulted in horrible rioting and looting in Los Angeles. While I didn’t live downtown, I could still see the fires from my home and our power was going off and on. While I watched in horror, my pager beeped. Betty at my answering service left a message that Marcia had called. “You better call her right away,” Betty advised. When I could get to a phone that worked, I called her.
Marcia answered with “Casey, oh my gosh! How did you know to call me? My Dad died today.”
Apparently, Marcia had not left a message with my answering service for me to call her. While that was freaking me out, I went back to listening.
“I think my father was hanging on for me. And the work we did together – you and I? Well, I think he knew I would be okay if he left – that I was able to let him go. While I am very sad, I am so grateful to you. You have no idea how important that was. You helped me let him go.”
Now part of me was still wondering how my answering service got a message that Marcia didn’t leave. I tried to brush that away to just be there for her.
Four sessions. I said almost nothing except the occasional “I know.”
Marcia moved to a part of the world where she’d always wanted to live and we didn’t stay in contact. I continued with my practice at the church. Life goes on.
Six months later my mother passed away. Marcia kept coming to my mind. Suddenly I realized that in those four sessions with her, I had been “pre-grieving” the loss of my own ill mother.
After a lovely memorial mass for my mother, I stopped by my mail box at the church.
Postmarked from an exotic country was a card from Marcia.
It simply said “I know. I know.”
No matter how old I get or how long I do this work, I am amazed at how connected we are to each other. Maybe it is Chaos theory. A butterfly in Brazil affects the weather in Kansas. Maybe it a God or the Universe connecting us in ways we could ever imagine.
All I know is that being a therapist is not just a calling but a gift – to you who do the work and to those you serve. And while you might never be aware of the incredible impact you make in this world, I just want you to know, that …
I know.
I’d love to hear your thoughts and your stories.
{ 16 comments… read them below or add one }
Casey,
Thanks for the lovely story it brought tears to my eyes. I have found in my own journey with grief, transformation as well as a capacity for compassion that I can only describe as “otherwordly”. Thank you for sharing the joy of the holidays. I’m in Northern Cal so can’t attend your open house. Thanks for being am inspiration!
Hi Tery,
We will miss you at the party!
Hugs,
Casey
Casey, what a beautiful story! I had tears in my eyes. (I am losing both of my parents to failing health and a kind “I know, I know” is SUCH a comfort.) Thank you for all you do. You are such a blessing.
HI my friend,
I am so sorry to hear about your parents. And in this stressful time it means a lot to me that you took the time share your story and comment.
Love and blessings,
Casey
Hi Casey,
You made me cry today. I really needed to hear that someone knows how valuable I am. I ‘lost’ a contract yesterday because my fee was seen as ‘unreasonable’ by a company.
But today, two people phoned me: one, a former client who’s moved far away and did a phone session; another, a colleague looking to refer someone. They’re glad to pay me even more than what I asked the company.
Thanks for the support!
Hi ET,
I am sorry about the contract but DELIGHTED that the vacuum was filled with even better opportunities. I applaud you for being open to what is is store for you!
Blessings,
Casey
Wow! I read your story, and became deeply moved when I read it out loud to my wife. Thank you for reminding me of the mystery that accompanies our work. I step back in wonder at the gift and meaning in my work.
Mark Henry
Hi Mark,
You are so gifted. Your clients are lucky to have you!
Warmly,
Casey
Thanks for the invite and touching story about your early grief work. I deeply appreciate your empathic connection with your client with just the few words “I know.” My own work with clients and groups focuses on Compassionate Communication. We find that empathy is more a quality of our Presence than it is the words that we say. I am also at a point in my life and work that I want to increase greatly my contribution to humanity and finally realize that, like you, I have a certain brilliant Light to bring to the dark night of the soul that we all experience at times…
Peace and Love In Unity,
Mike Murphy
Dear Michael,
It is wonderful that you are so clear on your Light. May your life and those you serve be graced by it.
Warmly,
Casey
I LOVED YOUR PIECE “WAS IT ANGELS OR SIMPLY A POWER OUTAGE?” . AS A THERAPIST IT IS HARD TO ALWAYS REALIZE THE IMPACT OF WHAT WE DO. THANK YOU FOR YOUR INSIGHT.
I KNOW….
ALL THE BEST,
SARA
Hi Sara,
What a nice comment – thanks!
Casey
I am very impressed by your emails and I was truly touched and can relate to your article on “angels or a power outage”. After 16 years of full time private practice, I have had numerous patients that I am unaware of how much meaning therapy gave them and how much it gave me in return.
Happy Holidays and thank you,
Kim Hescheles
khesch@optonline.net
Dear Kim,
I am delighted you can relate! You are right, we have no idea how many lives we’ve have touched in ways we can’t imagine. And congrats on 16 years in private practice!
Hugs,
Casey
I loved that story. So often I feel that I am connected to my clients in ways that defy logic. I will use an analogy that I have never thought of before, and they will say “how did you know I am a water-skier” (or whatever). I will hesitate over archiving a file of a client I haven’t heard from in 6 months, and they will call that day.
“The heart comprehends what the mind can’t understand”
Hi Elaine,
Isn’t that the truth? A metaphor will come “out of nowhere” and be the exact thing that heals! Thanks for the comment!
Warmly,
Casey