"...by standing respectfully and faithfully at the borders of anotherÂs solitude, we may mediate the love of God to a person who needs something deeper than any human being can give."
Ten years ago I lost a child to circumstances beyond my control, and today I am reminded of that loss. The parents and families of the lost and found children, the children of lost parents, they all need this love.
Terry Gross interviewed Alice Seibold last Friday, and I didn't realize how deeply that has affected me all week, the strangeness of not feeling inside one's own skin but rather hovering just above the place where your body goes through the day with deliberate and determined movements. Driving in the car, now... now? time to eat the food. Again, the rote memory of hurricane preparation, waiting quietly, wondering if my luck will wear out.
Loss? You know that everyone around you wants to do something to help you, but they don't know what that is. You don't know what that is. You go forward with your life and your loss lives with you, all of the time, but slowly you being to feel moreembeddedd in yourself, less like you're swimming through muffled distraction to focus on getting through a day. Then you get through more days which become years. But for those who have lost more than a child, or children but whole histories of lives together, homes...It'ss something unimaginable and nearly unspeakable, even having an idea of being the walking wounded.
So yes give to the Red Cross, and volunteer if you have time, and hire people who are displaced if you're in a position to do so, and pray...Butt sometimes just close your eyes and thing about the dead and that they miss the living, too. It is a strange kind of comfort.