This week I’m reaching for my own words and coming up empty-handed.
Five days ago a friend’s life was devastated in a split second and the only words I can muster are…”no words.”
So I’ve been relying on this beautiful piece of wisdom I found. I bet I’ve read it dozens of times over the last few days…
“Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and living alone won’t either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You are here to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness. Tell yourself you tasted as many as you could.”
–Louise Erdich, The Painted Drum
The night my 11-year-old heard the news, she curled up beside me and cried for her heartbroken friend. Trying to wrap her head around such a senseless tragedy, she said, “You always think it happens to someone else, but we are all ‘someone else’ to somebody.”
Of course she’s right. And once again, I had no words.
And then today I stumbled on this photo I took a while back. It was shot in a quick moment that caught my attention but was quickly forgotten. The image doesn’t entirely fill in the words that I’m lacking, but it does remind me of the incredible, countless people helping our friend through this nightmare. It reminds me that maybe I have a few words after all: Even in the midst of tremendous loss and heartache, there is still love to be found among the rubble.
I’m so sorry for what your friends are going through, and I know how hard this is on your family as well. Rest assured that you’ve communicated the heartbreak and the beauty and more, with your photo and your words today. Love you,
Nan
Thanks Nancy. Love you too, my friend.
I read of your friend, and the tragic news has stayed with me. We never know. We never think it’s us. The shock of it, the time, nothing ever feels right. I remember the reeling news when my nephew passed away last January. Thinking, how could we have girded ourselves against this? But we can’t. We never know. And if we were to know, how would it possibly take away or be able to lessen any of the pain? I will pray for your family, in this incredible time. I will pray.
You’re so right, Alexandra…we can’t protect ourselves, even if we wanted to. But I guess the lesson is that we aren’t here to protect ourselves. We are here to be vulnerable. Hugs to you, sweet friend.
Amazing symbolism in your photo. I’m so sorry for the loss of your friend and sorry for his family. Loss is on my heart too and it’s so hard. And hard to understand. Peace to you all…
Thanks so much, Elaine. I know you’ve had a rough season as well. Sending love you to you and your family.
There is love among the rubble, you have definitely shown that. Keep each other going and keep loving.
Keep on keeping on. That’s all we can do, right? Thanks for your consistently kind words, Ellen.
Grateful for love in the rubble. Beautiful post. I am so drawn to your daughter’s remark that we are all “someone else” to somebody.
I truly wish that you didn’t understand grief the way you do, Anna. But I know you totally get it. Thanks for being here. Hugs to you!