My daughter cried calling me to her bedside. Pain. I needed to do something and NOW! She fully expected me to take it away immediately. I could not and we both cuddled our broken hearts together.
So many times I hear heartbreaking stories of betrayal, abuse, disappointment and sadness over a cup of coffee and I struggle. I want to take it—take the pain away—but I can’t. They can’t give it either. It’s their pain.
The community of The Giver has one “Receiver of Memory”. (see Eliminating Pain, my previous post on The Giver) The community names the new Receiver of Memory and he goes to his mentor and asks what to call him. “The Giver,” he answers. So transpires days of Giving and Receiving memory. The Giver gives memories and, once he gives them, he loses them. The Receiver accepts the memories which become increasingly unbearable to hold alone. Telling of emotion becomes actually feeling emotion. True relationship between the Giver and the Receiver reveals all others as sorry manufactured counterfeits. The status quo becomes unsustainable.
I want a Receiver of Memory! Being free of painful memories would be so nice! To share that deep pain and…poof… it’s gone! But pain leads to wisdom. So wisdom goes with the pain. Do I want that cost? To become increasingly foolish as I’m increasingly pain-free?
My daughter’s heart cry that I take her pain is impossible but can I share it? Bear the weight of it together? What about the friend in deep pain. I can’t take it. Can I share it? For so long I felt discouraged at my helplessness in the face of deep pain. I’m beginning to experience the freedom of sharing.
I love the ending of the Giver. Spoiler Alert! The Receiver escapes and in the final moments approaches a family by a fireplace. Music is heard in the distance,the evidence that his old mentor is blasting the status quo and sharing his pain and also his most beloved memory, music.