Summary

The author describes a deep, supportive relationship with her father, who provides emotional strength during her personal challenges, including health issues and a difficult divorce.

Abstract

The author recounts her daily morning calls with her father, who lives far away, and how these conversations have become a vital part of her routine. Despite the physical distance, her father has been a pillar of support, offering encouragement during her prolonged divorce and during her recent health scares. The pandemic has subtly shifted their roles, with the author taking on the role of a long-distance caregiver, yet she embraces this change as they discuss topics previously considered taboo in their culture. After receiving a diagnosis at the Carl J. and Ruth Shapiro Cardiovascular Center, the author's first call is to her father, illustrating the comfort and reassurance he provides. The article reflects on the cultural norms that silence women's expressions of pain and the author's struggle with trust due to past experiences. The relationship with her father has taught her to be more open and trusting, influencing her to share her personal stories and ultimately find her current partner, who shares many qualities with her father.

Opinions

The author values the emotional support and comfort provided by her father during challenging times.
She acknowledges the role reversal that has occurred, accepting the caregiver role with grace.
The author appreciates the cultural shift in their relationship, allowing for more open discussions about personal matters.
She believes in the power of communication and being listened to as a means to produce oxytocin, which helps in managing stress and anxiety.
The author reflects on the impact of cultural norms on her behavior, particularly the expectation for women to endure pain silently.
Her experiences, especially during her divorce and health issues, have made her wary of trusting others, yet she recognizes the importance of having a support system.
The author sees her father as a crucial figure in her life, whose support has been instrumental in her healing and personal growth.

On Days Like This, I Need Someone To Walk Beside Me

It’s okay to lean on others instead of going at it alone

Brigham and Womens Hospital Image by author

A strong bond

Every morning between 7 and 8 am, I call my father who lives 7000 miles away. It has become a habit, and on the days when I cannot make the call, it feels like I am missing something.

We talk about everything. Over the years, the lines of who the parent is and who the child is have blurred. During my younger years, he wielded immense influence over my life as a figure of great power. Though I still see traces of the old him, the doctor who operated under a kerosene lamp in Nigeria’s strife-torn regions, my 86-year-old father has moments where he acts like a needy child and a moody teenager.

I’ll admit, it can be draining at times but I don’t really mind. Because no matter what, I know we have each other's backs.

Although he lives in a different country, he supported me every day during my prolonged and difficult divorce. On days I didn’t have it in me to go on, he’d instill enough strength with words of encouragement to make me through another tough day.

It was the pandemic that brought about a subtle shift in our roles. Suddenly, I found myself in the position of a long-distance caregiver. What was even more unexpected was how naturally I assumed the new role.

We spent more time on video calls reminiscing, often about the past, which is his favorite topic. We would also talk in detail about relationships, a hitherto taboo topic between fathers and daughters in our culture.

A heartwarming memory is when I would call my father at the usual time with my boyfriend next to me. It was my way of introducing them to each other and sending the message that they are both important to me. Thankfully, they got it.

Although my father initially expressed displeasure about my dating life, he has since refrained from doing so. And I appreciate that because I wouldn’t want to hold back on what is happening in my life and him being a part of it.

Someone to lean on

Since my teenage years, I have suffered from anxiety and struggled with bouts of depression. I have also had myriad health issues including chronic pain. The latest was a referral from my physician to consult with a specialist at the acclaimed Carl J. and Ruth Shapiro Cardiovascular Center at Brigham and Women’s Hospital in Boston.

One would think I was a bunch of nerves before my visit but frankly, I have been so exhausted these past couple of months that the only thing I was looking forward to was getting back home and into bed.

I was touched when my father kept reassuring me that I shouldn’t be afraid in our morning video call. Wasn’t that my job — to offer comfort each time he had to see a specialist or undergo a procedure?

On the day of my visit, an Uber dropped me off at the hospital. It is no understatement that navigating through that cavernous building could be disorienting, particularly for someone with brain fog.

Carl J. and Ruth Shapiro Cardiovascular Center Image by author

I had been prepared to spend hours there but thanks to top-notch service, I was quickly shuttled from the examining room to do various tests and returned to the lobby for a brief wait. By the end of my visit, the doctor gave me a diagnosis and a course of action. Over the upcoming weeks, I will be returning for weekly infusions to correct my condition and for additional testing.

Guess who was the first person I called after receiving the diagnosis? I found a place to sit outside the doctor’s office and video-call my father. Hearing those three magical words “Are you okay?” from him immediately had the effect of a soothing balm to my anxious thoughts about the road ahead.

I once read an article suggesting that when stressed out, women require oxytocin to lower cortisol levels. This hormone, which promotes a sense of connection, safety, and predictability, is produced through communication, feeling understood, and being listened to. My father provided me with that space and by the time I hailed an Uber for the ride home, I felt significantly calmer and more emotionally stable.

Only after that did I confide in my boyfriend and reach out to my closest friends.

I tend to keep my pain to myself and endure it quietly. This behavior is partly influenced by the cultural norms I grew up with, where women are taught to remain silent from a young age. Even during the intense pain of childbirth, women in my culture are discouraged from crying out. Similarly, when I was confined to bed due to fibromyalgia, I learned to suppress my pain upon seeing the disdain in the eyes of the person who promised to stand by me through sickness and health.

The passion with which the vows were exchanged did not stand a chance when confronted with a real crisis.

I am not exaggerating when I say that experience scarred me for life to the extent that I never want to find myself in a similar situation again. While some might perceive me as fiercely independent, the reality is that I struggle to trust others enough to let them in.

Having someone in your life with whom you share a deep sense of safety and understanding is truly a blessing. When I got the unexpected health news, I turned to my father for comfort, like a little girl would.

Talking to him broke down something scary into bite-sized, manageable pieces.

Objectively speaking, my relationship with my father is teaching me to be more open and trusting. Following my divorce, he has been like a rock to me while I rebuilt my life from the ground up. Without his support, I probably wouldn’t have had the courage to venture into writing personal stories and ultimately meet my partner.

Would it be a surprise that he has many of the qualities my father has?

An article with a lovely prompt “Love Is In The Air” that I enjoyed reading was from fellow Dancing Elephant Press editor Libby Shively McAvoy