You Just Never Know

People are always willing to talk about suicide, just not intentionally to the people who have lost someone to it. Maybe it feels safer to talk to a stranger about it, I get that. It's safe because it's less personal. You are privy to something tragic, but it's not your tragedy. You can express your shock, your bewilderment, your knowledge about what happened, even if it's only pieces of the story. Most times it is only pieces of the story. 

Working in retail I've had this happen several times. People need help in selecting a gift to comfort someone grieving. First they just mention, for example, a friend lost her husband, or a neighbor lost a son. Then as the conversation continues they begin to throw out other details. It was a suicide. I can't believe it happened. They never saw it coming. You just never know do you? No, you don't. Can you imagine how horrible that is? Yes, I can. Even with affirmative answers like that they never consider they might be talking to someone who has suffered such a loss. They have a need to share because they are grateful it's not them and because it's catastrophic. But not their catastrophe. I get they are trying to make sense of what happened.

Perhaps I'm missing opportunities by not sharing my reality at that point. I find it more amusing than uncomfortable when discussions unfold this way. They wouldn't be so eager to talk about it if they knew my history. A few times I've shared my truth. Most times I hold back because it's not about me. Every time I grab a pen and paper and share the names of a couple books to recommend. They don't ask how I know, but are grateful to have something tangible they can do to help their friend. I hope they follow through and buy the books. I hope they give the books, find the words to talk, ways to listen, and are there for their friends. 

If they do that, in a way, I've helped another survivor. For that reason alone I give thanks for being in the right place at the right time. I find peace in those conversations rather than resentment. We just never know what another has gone through, do we? No we don't. 

Let There Be Light

How is it that the rain on the roof, which is a sound I love, sounds very lonely sometimes. How is it standing my ground, choosing my battles, and establishing boundaries sometimes feels like a loss instead of a win. How do I step out in faith only to wait, and then wait some more. How do I live my best life. Full stop.

Okay, I don't have answers to any of these questions. I trust the answers will come. But I will own it's uncomfortable to wonder when. I long for easy as I wrestle with the hard. I'd prefer not to have to be strong. Couldn't I just be soft, content and fully supported? Why do I struggle to have a strong decisive voice, when in fact I am slow to process so I miss the immediate opportunities to ask questions, to be clear and upfront. I do get around to the heart of the matter, but not right away. I wish I was faster, but I'm not. I do sometimes have a quick wit, but otherwise I take the long way around the thinking process.  I'm on the scenic route while others are on the fast track. Things like this make us who we are, and yet we struggle with being who we are.

I don't know about you, but I am just weary. I long for hugs. I miss what was normal and I'm not sure what normal will look like again. I wonder if I'm learning the lessons I am supposed to be learning with the journeys life has taken me on. We have lost a year they say, but have we gained a greater perspective? I am glad that the worst is over. Well, at least I hope the worst is over. I think I can safely say the worst of winter is over and seeing growth in the garden is such a sign of hope. We need more signs of hope. We need more light, more points of light, more lightness in our hearts.

When in doubt I dig deeper for gratitude. I could complain, bitch, gripe and moan. Okay, sometimes I do complain, bitch, gripe and moan. But it doesn't take me as quite as far as counting blessings does. But we long to be heard. We long to be heard in our frustrations, worries and our joys. So sometimes we have to do the bitching to find the release, which gives us space to find our gratitude. Which lets the light in. Letting the light in it gives us light to share with others. So...if you are the light, I thank you. If I am the light, may I share it with you.