Wednesday, May 18, 2005

...yet we grieve

We do not grieve like the rest of men, who have no hope... yet we grieve.

How do we do it? By just floating along the drift of emotions? By 'working through' them? (And what does that look like anyway?) By limping through the ordinariness of today or by trying to get someone to understand? How/when/where/ with whom can that happen since we are all fighting to stand ground in the same storm?

If we are all talking then who is listening?

Do I even have the ability to hear others when my own turmoil has thrown a shadow over my understanding? Do I have the energy? Will it help? Or do I despair at the impossibility of it?

So much is missing, Laur. We didn't- I didn't have the chance to shed some light on the giant and ominous problems you were stuck in. If I had, I would have told you how painful and unfair life can be... that I have been so disappointed in myself for bad choices that have effected others permanently... I'd confess that there was a time when I was so mired in pain and confusion that I could not think of one good reason to live and I was out of energy to keep the pace of outrunning the despair... I would tearfully tell you that despite all the blessings that surround me and the people that love me, despair chases me still.

All that to say that something carried me forward. It wasn't pretty because I choked on the pride that refused to stay down. I wonder if that would have helped? Or would you have been embarrassed for me in that humility? I would be, I guess.

I'm so sorry that I wasn't there to urge you to push on. Laur, I don't pretend to know your pain, but I do know pain. And I revolt when I realize I should expect it. To say it sucks is the understatement of eternity. And yet, the human-ness of allowing others into my life- close enough to see it in all its shocking, twisted untidiness; that's what I truly long for. To hope again that I'm not alone in the pain that plagues me and to discover that others have similar burdens. That's healing. It brings the hope of life and a future. I would not have picked these particular scars on my life, but to soothe another's angst is the only good I can find for them. Is that the point of it all?

I suspect. That's why missing you hurts so much. I should have known, or guessed, or just plain asked. A lesson learned, painful and cruel, but rightfully so. There is no such thing as a shallow heart. I'll keep it in mind.

chryl left the ground at 00:58 2 comments