I have the very good fortune of having a friend who is a Child Development Specialist. She works with kids who have been traumatized and helps them heal and move forward with their lives. Her name is Jess. She is very smart and very warm. I always feel better after a conversation with her, and I think I have discovered her special sauce.

Brené Brown, whom I really respect and whose books are on my shelves, always writes about the importance of vulnerability in creating meaningful connections. When we share our challenges, problems and issues, we make ourselves vulnerable, which is scary, but it also deepens our relationships. We find our “bad weather friends,” the ones we can do life with and from whom we can seek support.

I think Brené needs an addendum. I think there is a ton of sharing going on, but the shares are subtle. They get dropped into the conversation and can be couched with other less consequential words. It’s too scary to come right out with “I feel so alone,” so we cushion it with, “I am so happy to see you. It feels like ages since I have gotten to do something social.”

When these subtle drops of vulnerability occur, they can be a great opportunity for connection, IF and only IF, the person hearing them picks up on it and asks questions. Unfortunately, it seems most times when these moments happen, instead of creating a speedbump for what is shared, most people blast right on by it. The conversation moves right along, and the opportunity for a deeper connection is completely missed.

Except for some people, like my friend, Jess. She uses graduate level jargon to work her magic. It’s two words with a pause in the middle:

“Wait…what?”

When someone says, “We stayed home for the holidays last year. Jane had just gotten out of rehab, so we wanted to keep it quiet,” many people will say, “Really? We went to New York. It was so pretty to see the tree, and we saw some amazing shows.” Jess, would pull out her superpower and say, “wait…what? Jane was in rehab?” And she would honor the moment.

She asks follow up questions. She expresses empathy and concern. She says those clever things like, “that must have been so hard on you,” and “how are you managing now? How is Jane?” Forget speed bumps, she creates those speed tables, where a person can process a major event in their life and not feel alone with it.

Here are some other examples of breadcrumbs of vulnerability, where you might be invited into a deeper connection if you don’t speed right by them:

“Joe’s birthday was last month, but I had just finished chemo, so we put off celebrating until I felt stronger.”

Regular person response, “tell Joe happy birthday!”

Jess, “wait..what? You were going through chemo? I had no idea. Please catch me up. I’m so glad it’s over but wish I had known what you were dealing with. What was that like for you?”

“We are staying home this summer. Bob losing his job put a kink in our plans, but we might go to the beach for the day.”

Regular person response, “That’s nice, and the beach is only two hours away.”

Jess, “wait…what? I didn’t know. How has that been for you?”

“It’s so nice to be out with you, I feel like I haven’t done anything social since the divorce.”

Regular person response, “it is great to be out, isn’t it? I hear amazing things about this restaurant too.”

Jess, “wait, what? I didn’t realize that. I am sure this has taken a terrible toll on you. How are you managing? I hope you are allowing yourself the time to grieve.”

“I have to go to the mall. My friend, Sarah’s funeral is tomorrow and nothing fits.”

Regular person, “I just got an email, Ann Taylor is having a sale.”

Jess, “wait…what? Sarah died? I had no idea. I know she was your really good friend. What happened?”

You get the point. Us regular people tend to be focusing on our response and maybe not listening for the really powerful sharing that is occurring. Very rarely will you hear someone say, “I feel so alone since my divorce,” or “we were devastated when Bob lost his job.” It’s so much more subtle than that. It takes great listening AND discerning skills.

I think sometimes, we don’t know what to say, so we jump to what is easy and familiar rather than wading into the murky water of sadness and pain. It’s such a gift to have someone sit with you in your pain and a true mark of connection.

Technology adds a whole other layer to the problem. And now, I am going to wade into the murky water of telling you sometimes a text just won’t do. There are times, when something is shared with you that merit a phone call. I can hear your sigh through my computer screen.

You can do the “wait…what?” in a text, but do you see the power in hearing it? A text is one dimensional. A voice is rich with meaning and intonation, intention, empathy and all the things that can help us heal.

If I were to make a list of phone call worthy events, a death is at the very top of the list. Even if they don’t answer, they know you called. It means something. An event involving someone’s immediate family member is a phone call. A medical diagnosis would also be a good reason to call. I pray someone isn’t out there sharing they have cancer and getting praying hands emoji as a response.

Job loss is big. Do not leave that person alone with their thoughts. Call them with your thoughts about how wonderful, talented, good and smart they are. They need it even if they say they don’t. Same with breakups and divorces. Bring the magic of “wait…what?”

It’s strange to say, but, in a way, our tragedies are our treasures. They are what make us feel breakable. We tend to share them with very few people. You don’t hear someone on the subway saying, “hey, just so you know, my mom just got diagnosed with cancer,” to everyone on the subway car. That message goes to a very select few. If you are one of them, please treat it like the very fragile treasure it is. Create an entire conversation around it. Make that speed table. Do what Jess does. Just say, “wait…what?”