Here’s another take on the Justin-Bieber-using-a-wheelchair-at-Disney story, this from a New York Times writer who has used a wheelchair since the age of 4. The author posits that Bieber didn’t need a wheelchair to cut the lines at Disney – he gets VIP treatment as a “star” – but rather, was embracing his chance to use some “cool” wheels.

As much as life has changed for many of us – for the better  – with gains in assistive technology, improved wheelchairs and other tools, and breakthroughs in the medical field, I still think there are so many barriers to physical access that getting to the front of the line once in a while when you have mobility challenges is a consideration that counts for a lot.

I stick with my theory that Bieber should have stayed home and rested his knee, if he really hurt it badly enough to need a wheelchair.

And I don’t think he made wheelchairs cool. I think he made himself look like a user.

George Baletsa of Newbury died suddenly, unexpectedly, on June 24th.  He was 45 years old and has a wife and three children who now start each day without him.  My sister-in-law, his neighbor, is grieving, for she knows the value of a good soul.  She tells me that George was unfailingly kind to her and to her son, who played often at his house with his boys, and she misses him.

Every day someone dies and someone who loves them grieves forever.  There are freak accidents, cruel attacks, devastating medical diagnoses.  The older we get, the more it happens.

Facebook (FB) has been around for a while now, and its users have aged too.  An International Business Times’ study showed that FB users between the ages of 13-24 are leaving or canceling their accounts, while there is an increase in the 30-something and  40-something demographics.  The over-55 age group shows the biggest increase of all.   FB is indeed getting older.

I think the “new” FB users are sharing more nuanced, more personal information than earlier users.  Yes, FB will remain a place to see pictures of your cousins’ children and grandchildren, your friend’s vacation photos, a hilarious YouTube clip.  But increasingly it is becoming a place to document progression of cancer treatments, to mark anniversaries of loss, and to reflect upon the death of someone we love.   How hard it must be to access a social networking site after a loss like that of the Baletsa family.  And yet, FB could be a powerful source of connection and comfort, if there was a way to break out of its current superficial construct.

The “like” option is not enough, my sister-in-law and I decided.  It just feels weird to “like” a painful or soul-bearing statement.   I said, “What FB needs is….” and we declared simultaneously:  an “I hear you” option!

Someone who loved George Baletsa could post: “George died a month ago tomorrow; it is so hard to believe.”

And she could know that she was heard and that she is not alone, with a simple “I hear you” ping.   Words, often, cannot take away the pain, but the simple knowledge that someone bears witness can soothe.

FB:  are you listening?

Yesterday was a balmy 46 degrees in the Boston area.  The sun felt good on my face, and I could hear birds chirping in welcome accompaniment to the beautiful sound of dripping, melting, snow.  Good riddance to you, snow mounds and black ice sheets.

My cabin fever feels like a thing of the past.  For much of February vacation week, the Boston area has been freezing cold and alternately snowing and raining icicles.  The streets and sidewalks have been treacherous, and driving can be tense, with so many streets reduced to one-way because of all the snow piled up.  The combination of freezing temperatures, bitter wind and icy snow can lead to enforced cave-dwelling.  I won’t even go into the bad behavior that intensifies around illegal use of handicapped-parking spaces when it’s winter.

Sometimes I can embrace the bad weather, and Marianne and I have marathon scrabble competitions, we try out lots of new recipes, and some napping happens.  We read books, do Facebook, listen to music.  This all gets really old quickly.

Being stuck at home when you haven’t chosen to hibernate can feel isolating, boring, crazy-making.  You are at the mercy of the elements (and sometimes of others to help you).    It’s hard to imagine what it can be like if you are someone for whom it’s easy to strap on your Yak Traks and walk out your door, weather be damned.

I know because I live in both worlds – I can snowshoe on out of here if I want —  but I also hang out a lot with a good friend who uses a wheelchair, so lots of times I don’t.   It’s not having the choice that makes the world of difference between a cozy week at home and a somewhat-smothered existence.

Rarely, if ever, does an empathic response begin with ‘at least….’ says Dr. Brene Brown in this video.

Brown, a researcher and professor at the University of Houston, speaks here on the difference between empathy and sympathy, and why empathy connects us but sympathy creates distance.

We all search, at times, for the “right” thing to say when someone shares their vulnerability or pain with us. Sometimes there is nothing to say (reaching out to hold their hand or just nodding, “Ahhhh….” can be more than enough). But trying to find a silver lining (the “at least….” comment) never makes things better and can only create distance and anger on the part of the listener.

Dr. Brown says that in Texas, a common (sympathetic NOT empathetic) response to someone’s sadness or worry is “Bless your heart.” Her imagined antidote to that comment is a t-shirt emblazoned with this: “If you bless my heart, I’ll punch your face.” I can empathize with that sentiment, having heard many variants of “bless your heart” in my lifetime.