A Lost Opportunity

I sent a condolence letter yesterday. It was about a second cousin of mine who’d had peritoneal cancer. Although I hadn’t seen her for years, we were the same age and had played together as kids on family visits. Meaning she was only 52—my age—when she died. 

I was pleased, though, to have actually sent the condolence letter, because I have a history of not getting them out. It’s not that I don’t care, although it might look that way. If I can do it online, I’m good—like yesterday. But getting a nice card, a thoughtful note, the address, and a stamp all together in the same place at the same time stymies me, no matter how much I’m moved to express my sympathy. On an old to-do list of mine are several condolence letters I’ve never written. They’re a heavy weight.

Just last fall, this cousin’s mother—my mom’s cousin—also died of peritoneal cancer. Right away, I e-mailed letters of condolence to my second cousin and one of her brothers.

But the e-mail addresses were old, and my messages bounced back to me. I meant to figure out where to send snail mail to this cousin and her brother. I would like to have connected with her in this small way before she died. But I never got around to it. 

I once heard someone say that lost opportunities go hand in hand with ADD. I definitely lost this opportunity.

And there’s one more little piece. For some reason, I ended up on the phone with my mom’s cousin—the mother of my second cousin—a couple years ago. We had a nice chat. And we ended up talking about ADD. Someone she knew had it—I don’t remember who.

I said I’d send her some of my favorite ADD resources. But that task ended up as just one of the many aging items on my to-do list. And, as it turns out, as another lost opportunity.

CaringBridge provides free websites that help families, friends, and the larger community keep in touch through "critical illness, treatment, and recovery"—or not. Looks to be extrememly helpful for anyone, but could be particularly useful for people with organizational challenges. Although I would love to have known earlier about the website there for my cousin, at least the site enabled me to send a letter of condolence when my branch of the family did find out about it.

Comments

[Mandy]

I think if those condolence notes are a heavy weight, you could still send them. With a heartfelt, simple message, they would be warmly received.

[Claire Walter]

As a society, we have lost the skills of sending real notes, whether of condolence or congratulations or just to say hello. We type on our keyboards and our Blackerries. We Text and we Tweet. But putting pen to paper and mailing the note shouldn't be lost forever. Many people treasure stacks of letters, notes and cards that remind them that others care about their victories and losses, their triumphs and tragedies. They are still worth sending.

[Holly5678]

I know what you mean. I know that feeling you're talking about.
I'm wondering: When time has passed, and you realize the letters are still sitting there, or you find them later, or it crosses your mind (again), do you find it even harder to try to send it, being as late as it is? Or, are you fine with "better late than never"?
The observation itself of ADD and "missed opportunities" rings so true. I never heard put that way. It's just way too true.
PS-Thank you for blogging. Not to sound self centered (although this is somewhat self centered...) but it is VERY reassuring to read all this. I know I'm NOT lazy, among many other negative things I was nearly convinced of, about myself. It's just not true, huh? Awesome blog. =)

[Kathleen Christensen]

Mandy, thanks for your encouragement. I still plan to send them ... someday.

Holly, yes, my old pattern is to feel shame about being late with something like this, then to put it off more, then to feel even more shame and put it off even longer, ad nauseum. I've gotten better at the "better late then never" thing, and I usually catch myself earlier in the process these days. Knowing about my ADD helps; it eases the shame a bit. And ... I'm so happy you didn't convince yourself that you're lazy!! (I have a thing about that word ...) Thanks for sharing that with me.