Today, I’m talking about the small things that carry us when life feels heavy and why “I’m Thinking Of You” may mean more than we know.
This newsletter comes from the in-between moments: appointments, kettle boiling, messages that ping through at just the right time. (Writing progress news at the end!)
WE’RE THINKING OF YOU
If you’ve been following me for a while, you will already know that our household is living through the reality of cancer treatment. My dear Mr.M has an aggressive type of blood cancer and is nearing the end of his six cycles of chemo, but with the possibility of further treatment being required.
Anyone going through a difficult time has probably heard or received a message saying, “We’re thinking of you.”
I’ve seen folks roll their eyes at that phrase. Why not DO something useful instead, they say: a grocery delivery, a cooked meal, a dog walk.
Can we just stop for a moment.
Of course, those gestures are wonderful – and if you are one of the people who have indeed offered something like this, then thank you. But, also, what’s wrong with saying you’re thinking of someone?
Sure, it’s different from cleaning the house, ironing, delivering shopping, or walking the dog. Those are different types of care. Some folks are naturals at practical support, experts at choosing just the right coffee date at the right time. Others express care through words. Neither is lesser.
YOU GOT THIS
During the past months, while Mr M has been on this chemo journey, we have received so many messages of support, one arrived on a handmade card - precious.
We can’t always have visitors – Mr M’s immune system is extremely compromised by the treatment, and he isn’t always well enough for company. All the same, his face will light up at the little GIFs and jokes his friends send. I see him breathe more lightly while he takes a call from a golf friend or old workmate. Being connected is such a lift.
Words do carry care.
I’ve received messages too, DMs, flowers, and encouraging GIFs, which all arrive in moments that make me feel less alone, too.
That’s not nothing. It’s everything.
We’re lucky to have friends and family who also understand the rhythm of treatment and offer practical help when they can. These are simply different expressions of love.
So, can I say it once more?
Saying I’m thinking of you, or you’re in our prayers, isn’t empty. It’s a kind of spiritual support – a precious reminder that we’re held in someone else’s thoughts, that we’re not forgotten. What is less okay is to not bother at all.
I have neighbours who make a point of catching me on my way to the car, or when I go out to walk the dog – not to pry, but to show care. They say they’ve been thinking of us both.
And this week, months into Mr M’s treatment, a friend called to apologise for not being in touch until now, though they’d asked family members how we were doing.
They’d been afraid to call at a bad time, terrified of saying the wrong thing. I told them I understood this – I’ve been there myself. All the same, I was grateful and felt extrememly touched that they’d called as I knew it must’ve been hard. I told them it was lovely to chat – and it was.
Thinking of you has reached our hearts in many ways, and we’ve felt it every single time – the care behind it, the intention, the love. It builds and sustains us.
Thankfully, our friends and family show their care in all sorts of ways, and every one of them is welcome. Even the Play Station Racing game sent here by our son so he could play (at a distance, online) with his dad. Mr.M’s not had the concentration or stamina until now - we’ll see who wins!
If you’re caring for someone right now (or simply holding space for a friend who is), please know that your thoughts, your quiet messages, and your acts of kindness and care all matter. Your kind thoughts ripple out further than you’ll ever know.
FURTHER THOUGHTS
“Rarely can a response make something better. What makes something better is connection.”
— Brené Brown
“A friend is one of the best things you can be and the best thing you can have.”
— Winnie the Pooh (A.A.Milne)
THE REST OF THE WEEK
In between sunny dog walks, I’ve been enjoying the signs of autumn, and wrote this Post from the motorhome. We visited the outskirts of Ayr, by the river, surrounded by trees, and enjoyed the beautiful colours of the season.
Several other things this week:
enjoyed a pumpkin spice coffee with a friend following a two-mile walk and chat.
laughed at the dog staring at me an hour ahead of every meal as his tummy clock hasn’t moved in time with the actual clocks (clocks went back in the UK last weekend).
submitted work to a big publisher, and now I’m refreshing my email more frequently than any sane person should.
drafted a story that will sit in a folder until next year because it is seasonal.
wrote a poem which will likely never see the light of day.
made two batches of soup.
registered several pieces of writing with ALCS.
cried at the thought that Mr.M’s treatment may not end with chemo.
cried some more
wrote some more
washed a whole load of clothes, bedding, and towels, then did a whole load of other displacement activity (but at least the house is clean)
wrote a Substack newsletter
drafted another Substack newsletter
followed and subscribed to a whole group of people
commented on lots of posts
laughed way too much at Celebrity Traitors (Alan!!!)
read a book in a couple of nights, in a new genre to me - a cosy mystery (Jackie Baldwin: Murder By The Seaside)
read another book in a new to me genre (spicy/romance/fantasy) - it was kind of fitting for Halloween! Flossed in Love (Angela Pearse) who writes lots of books with an Edinburgh setting and who makes writing look easy - and we all know that kind of writing isn’t easy at all!
END NOTE:
I’m Thinking Of You may mean you are thinking of a writer, or their work - if so, tell them. It won’t surprise you to find that you just may make their day! x
PS If you’re thinking of someone, anyone, this week, do tell them x x x
Love from Jackie in the Little Writing Corner in Scotland x x x
