Often, I am humbled by stories that friends and strangers share with me of their own struggles in life, of their sick children, their grief, their despair and their catharsis. Some stories are so touching that I feel I must share them, to squeeze every last drop of their sweet juice for my readers to taste.
This was something I received a few weeks ago by a woman I went to school with, a woman I hardly know and yet someone who I feel deep fondness and affinity:
I am in tears reading your post, as I often am. I cannot pretend to comprehend the difficulties you have faced and will continue to face minute by minute, day by day. But I have some understanding of being lost in the sea of despair and at least in that regard you are not alone.
She shared with me some dour news about her child and went on to say:
The grief has been overwhelming and consuming. It's like a sinkhole that opens up and swallows you whole when you least expect it ... I am hopeful she will continue to improve and will find the right medication that will allow her to resume her life and find some peace.
In the meantime I have decided to view this as an eclipse. The sun is still out there shining, what we are experiencing is a temporary loss of light. I try so very hard to hold onto that thought until the sinkhole opens up again and I descend into grief.
Then she signed off with the most loving words—words that I want to tell everyone out there who is struggling:
Sending you love and much light.
This was something I received a few weeks ago by a woman I went to school with, a woman I hardly know and yet someone who I feel deep fondness and affinity:
I am in tears reading your post, as I often am. I cannot pretend to comprehend the difficulties you have faced and will continue to face minute by minute, day by day. But I have some understanding of being lost in the sea of despair and at least in that regard you are not alone.
She shared with me some dour news about her child and went on to say:
The grief has been overwhelming and consuming. It's like a sinkhole that opens up and swallows you whole when you least expect it ... I am hopeful she will continue to improve and will find the right medication that will allow her to resume her life and find some peace.
In the meantime I have decided to view this as an eclipse. The sun is still out there shining, what we are experiencing is a temporary loss of light. I try so very hard to hold onto that thought until the sinkhole opens up again and I descend into grief.
Then she signed off with the most loving words—words that I want to tell everyone out there who is struggling:
Sending you love and much light.
 |
| photo by Todd Olmstead |
No comments:
Post a Comment