“I wish.” “I wish I had the words.” “I wish I had the answers.” “I wish I had assurances.” “I wish I was there with you, in person, to hold your hand, to lend my shoulder, twenty-four hours a day.”
These words are so full of sympathy, of caring and love, but they feel so useless. I think that, even as we say them, our full hearts behind them, we know that they aren’t even a bandaid to cover up the hurt.
I want to offer hope, and I do have hope. I want to offer assurances, but I don’t have many. I know that you will cherish and love absolutely your child or your children, when the time comes and in whatever way that happens.
The best I can do is to assure you that I’m here. You may not want to call on me because I don’t have the answers, but know that you can, whenever. If writing is easier or better and you just want the emotions to pour out of you through your words and you want to send those words far, far away, send them to me.
I may not have expressed myself perfectly here, but sometimes I just don’t have the words. I hope that I haven’t caused any more hurt. Please let me know what you want, what you need, even if that is space to just deal.
Monday, September 29, 2008