Words are all I have

It's so hard to know what to say when you learn of a tragedy that has affected someone close to you.  And in this age of technology, the news is often learned through social media as was the case for my friend who's sister was killed in the car accident.  How to express condolences by words.  As a writer I love words and I value them greatly, but there are times where words just don't cut it.  And this is one of those times.  All of the trite phrases seem so empty.  It's so easy to say I'm sorry, I'll pray for you, my thoughts are with you, etc.  But none of those phrases convey the deepest feelings.  They are social niceties.  If my friend was here with me, I wouldn't say anything. I would just hold her and listen to her and let her cry and talk and whatever else she needed to do.  But she's with her family and texting is the only option right now.   What I can do is borrow against my line of credit and make a donation to the scholarship fund for the now motherless children.  And I will do that.  But still that seems not enough.   It will have to do for now.

When my other friend announced her cancer diagnosis to our choir last night, I was sitting beside her.  I was able to take her hand.   And I was able to rub her back as she struggled for the words she needed.  It meant so much more than anything I could have said. (In fact, the only thing I did say was FUCK).  I reacted from my heart, I didn't think about it, or question it, I just reached out.  Maybe she didn't want that from me, but I think she appreciated it.

It has always been hard for me to know what to do.  I worry about intruding. I want to respect the privacy and dignity of the person but at the same time let them know they are not alone.  I worry about presuming more in a friendship than they are feeling.  I imagine them thinking, "why would I want to talk to you? I have other friends."  And so sometimes I stay back.  But I know in my heart that gestures of kindness are seldom unwanted.   And so I push past that reluctance and put myself out there.

In our Unitarian faith one of the things we do when someone is suffering is offer to hold it for them.  When the burden is too great, we offer to hold it for a while, easing their pain even for a short time. I like the imagery of that.  It is not the same as owning it, or taking it, we merely hold it. I picture my hand out and someone placing there burden in my palm.   So in my heart tonight I am holding the suffering of these people close to me.