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On her way out my front door my friend turned back and said, “Take care.”

I use that phrase all the time.

Sometimes it is a caution, meaning be careful, drive safely, don’t do anything foolish.

Sometimes it is a wish, may things go well for you.

Sometimes it means be good to yourself.

Often it’s a sign off, goodbye, tata, see ya later.

But this time, when my friend turned back and said, “Take care,” I heard the phrase in a new and powerful way.

It happened earlier this month. I had just returned from an unexpected three days in our local hospital. I had received blood transfusions, tests, and excellent nursing skills for what I was told was “life-threatening anemia,” a reprise of my longer hospital stay in March. (Cause so-far undetermined.)

My friend had stopped by the day I got home to assure herself that I was okay, to hear my story and keep me company for half an hour, and to leave prepared food for my supper.

And when she left, saying, “take care,” I heard it as a reminder to me to TAKE all the care I was being offered. This was not a time for me to be heroic or stoic, not a time to think I can do it all by myself. This was not a time to judge myself as being weak or whiney or unworthy.

This was a member of my circle of chosen friends, a part of my village, telling me, “We are here for you. Whatever you need, we will try to provide it. We are all grown-ups, and we will tell you if we can’t manage what you ask, but please ASK, and please be willing to RECEIVE. You’ll have your chance to reciprocate when you are well. So TAKE care.”

I am so very blessed, and so very grateful.

And to you, reading this, I offer the phrase, complete with its expanded meaning: whenever you are in need, reach out; and TAKE CARE.

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