Dear you, currently entitled to your own sort of day,
A revision to the visiting policy
I would like to offer some company under a revised set of rules. First, you do not have to have news. Second, the news does not have to be good. Third, nobody is required to begin with a brave smile. This last provision has been introduced because a person should be allowed to say hello without first hosting an event called Putting Everyone Else at Ease.
I care about how things are going, of course. But I do not want every exchange to ask whether you are better, what has changed, or what comes next. I would also like to hear whether the afternoon was boring, the book was annoying, or somebody outside appears to be moving the same garden chair for the sixth consecutive day.
The casserole may speak for itself
Well-meant help sometimes arrives carrying a speech. There are lessons, comparisons, and accounts of what worked for a person somebody once met. I would like to spare you my entry in that collection. If I bring a casserole to a conversation, figuratively or otherwise, it need not come with an accompanying theory of life. The casserole can just be a casserole.
Tell me what kind of company you would prefer. Listening, a distraction, or a practical conversation can all be reasonable choices. You need not defend the choice or keep it the same tomorrow. I am interested in what would suit you, rather than demonstrating how very helpful I am capable of being if given sufficient speaking time.
You do not have to be improving, inspiring, or particularly conversational to be wanted here.
The whole person is still here
You can discuss something completely unrelated to recovery. I would welcome your verdict on a film, an account of a small pleasure, or a complaint so wonderfully specific that only you could deliver it properly. Your personality has not been placed in storage until further notice. I would like to keep enjoying the person, not just receiving updates about the circumstances.
If the circumstances are what you want to talk about, that is welcome too. A comfortable hour need not prove something about tomorrow, and a difficult afternoon need not become the whole account of you. You can tell me about this day without turning it into a graph that points in the direction everybody would prefer.
No findings must be submitted
There is no obligation to name symptoms, explain appointments, or produce a complete picture. Share what you choose, including the sentence 'I cannot really describe it.' I will try to hear what is there instead of assigning you the additional task of making your experience understandable to someone standing outside it. One detail can be quite enough.
You are equally free to leave this invitation alone. On a day when replying feels like another job, please do not take the job. You have not been hired as Director of Keeping Everyone Informed, a position with remarkably poor holidays. A quiet stretch requires no apology, and I will not need a retrospective bulletin accounting for all the afternoons in between.
A small opening, whenever it suits
You can choose a video, a voice note with the camera off, or writing when you open the invitation. Begin with sixty seconds if a small shape is helpful. It is not a hard limit; a shorter hello or a longer account is welcome. Review the reply before deciding what you want to share. It does not need a tidy ending.
Anything you send comes to me as the host, not automatically to a wider circle of people waiting for news. I may not see it immediately, so use our usual way of contacting each other if you want a timely conversation. This little space is for optional company. It is not a schedule, a recovery record, or a reason to put on a good mood you do not have.
OUR LITTLE PROMISE
Behind this suspiciously detailed visiting policy, I simply mean that I would like your company as you are.
Send a little of the day if you feel like it. I can leave the grand conclusions outside with the shoes.
With affection, and no presentation prepared