"Keep in touch," people wrote in my high school memory book. What do we really mean when we say that? How do we keep in touch when we meet people in different phases or places?
When I was moving away from Detroit, some people were really sad. They acted like it was the end of our relationship, but to me, it felt like a continuation. I wasn’t leaving the earth—I was just moving to a new city. But for some people, staying in touch happens only when you’re physically in the same space with them.
I’ve maintained relationships with certain people after moving away because they know how to keep in touch. Even if you can’t make it to their birthday party, they’ll call to fill you in, share all the details, and send pictures. They make an effort to share the little details of their lives so you still feel connected. Some of us forget that relationships require ongoing maintenance—just like cars. Sometimes they need an oil change, a tune-up, or new windshield wiper fluid. Relationships work the same way.
When people in our lives experience big events or changes, we have to make an effort to remember—even down the line. If someone loses a loved one, it’s great that we attended the funeral and sent a card, but what about a month later? Or six months? Or on the anniversary of the loss? Keeping in touch means checking in long after the moment has passed.
For my friends who have lost their mothers, Mother’s Day is an important time to reach out—or even on their mother’s birthday. It doesn’t have to be anything big. A simple message can mean so much:
“Hey, I know this is a difficult time. Just wanted to check in and see how you’re doing.”
“Hey, just thinking about you.”
“Hey, I know this happened a few weeks ago, but I’m still here if you want to talk.”
The same applies when someone has a child, goes through a break up, or is recovering from an injury. How do we continue to support them? When was the last time we checked in? What does ongoing care look like?
Situations don’t just go away for people—others just stop asking about them. And when that happens, the person going through it starts to feel like they’ve hit some invisible expiration date where they’re allowed to talk about it. They think no one wants to hear about it anymore.
My mother was in her 30s when her mother died, and I remember her crying all the time. As a kid, I thought, Oh, this is something that never stops hurting. Mother’s Day is still hard for her. Some aches don’t go away, and part of keeping in touch with the people we love means checking in on that hurt—not just when it happens, but for as long as they need us.
Journal Prompt
Who do you need to check on? What is something you’ve stopped asking them about that you need to hold space for?
A Few Things That Caught My Attention This Week
Want to Be a Better Conversationalist? Try ‘Trampoline Listening,’ by Ashley Broadwater in HuffPost.
The Interview: Dr. Lindsay C. Gibson Thinks Compassion for Our Parents Can Be a Trap, by David Marchese in The New York Times.
The Myth of “The One That Got Away,” by John Kim, LMFT, in Psychology Today.
‘Talk About It, Focus on Your Values, And… Stay Stoic’: How to Cope with Rejection, by Hannah Newton in The Guardian.
I lived in a highly mobile, due to military commitment, community. Over the years I noticed that people would often have a big fight with a really good friend just before they were due to relocate.
It seemed like a defense mechanism against feeling separation pain.
Nedra,
Again, this is so validating to read. My husband is from Colorado, and we live in Indiana, near my own family of origin. His family seldom keeps in touch. They are what we call "proximity people," because the effort invested in relationships is based on ease and nearness. It's sad, but I've always felt that when relationships are important to us and we value them, we will put in the hard work to keep in touch long-term, or in small but meaningful ways, like you said (photos, updates, etc.)
What I like to do for my loved ones both near and far is periodically send them a text that says, "Thinking of you today. Just checking in." Sometimes it's a follow up to something I know they are personally dealing with--a hurt or ongoing struggle or personal crisis or even just a major milestone event. It doesn't take much time, and I'm showing that I care and I'm here. If they choose to respond, I honor their stories and send them love and hearts or an emoji or meme or GIF.
Sometimes a short handwritten card means a lot, too, which takes about five minutes.
Truly, the ways we show our love do not have to be complicated.