Capybara for adoption?

I’ve often thought that other than my dogs, if given a choice, my emotional support animal would be a capybara, even though I’ve never actually met one. Sure, they look like giant guinea pigs and have serious incisors, but also the cutest faces, and they could sit on my lap. Capybaras must be nice if there are cafés where you can hang out with them, right?

Lately, I’ve been fortunate enough to be an emotional support person for several people in my life. When I go home, I do everything I can to empathize with my stepmom about the purgatory she’s living in with my dad in the nursing home. He’s not really my dad/her husband, though he looks and sounds like him. She’s been experiencing profound psychological ambiguous loss, a feeling of grief for someone who is still alive, but no longer mentally present. Her depression, combined with the struggle of her macular degeneration, has drastically reduced her world, so my visits give her something more positive to focus on.

A widowed friend who just had major surgery has needed me to help with tasks she can’t manage on her own right now, like grocery shopping, taking care of her dog, and doing her laundry. I love that I can be useful to her as she’s such a great friend to me. I know it’s frustrating to be unable to do things for yourself while also managing pain with a new joint. Wait. That’s a lie. I am deeply grateful that I don’t actually know how it feels to manage pain with a new joint. Anyone who knows me knows that I don’t like pain. It hurts me. I am the world’s biggest wuss and would be a basket case with a new joint, much less if I lived alone. Fortunately, she’s not me – she’s tough and funny and easy to be a nursemaid to.

Another good friend just lost someone very close to her. I knew this person, too, but not nearly as well, and I have focused on supporting my friend through her grief and feelings of helplessness. She needs to be a rock for her friend’s family, so I strive to be one of her sources of strength when she’s depleted and devastated.

All of this being supportive takes its toll on me – I’m tired, weepy, cranky, and often wonder if I’m being much help at all. When I start to feel that way, I remember how grateful I am that I have friends and family whom I can rely on when times are tough for me, too. They have been in the past, and they will be again in the future. I can’t imagine not being able to text or call someone for food, a ride, a shoulder to cry on, or an ear to bend.

For those of you who don’t feel like you have an emotional support person, there are many support groups hosted by organizations throughout the county. I hope one fits your needs. And for those of you who don’t like to ask for help, I can only tell you that being able to give help is a gift to those you ask. Humans like to be needed. So do capybaras, I’m certain of it.