I'm blogging from bed, sipping on hot cocoa, surrounded by my cats and a man who I love dearly, even though he's currently driving me nuts while on his campaign to fight against the government. It's my safe space. My bed, my hot drink, my beautiful Persians & fiance. But tonight, even though the scenery is the same, I feel a little tender and fragile.
It's awful when you get that call and expect to hear the usually bubbly voice on the other end of the phone, but instead it's tears and panic.
I got one of those calls yesterday, from a dear friend who had turned to her boyfriend's home and sadly, found his?deceased mother.
I'll never know what's worse, watching someone you love suffer and anticipating death for days or months on end, or suddenly being faced with an unexpected passing. Either way, it tears at your heart as a friend who doesn't know how to comfort the pain that someone you care so much about is dealing with. There's nothing to say. There's always food to bring and hugs ?to give, but there's hardly ever something to say.
She felt bad that Greggie and I have lost a parent and that we don't need to go through it, but on the other hand, we wanted to be there because we know what it's like to lose a parent. No two situations are the same, but there's always the story to tell about what the funeral day might be like or the days to follow. I try tell them to find reasons to laugh, but I know it's equally important to allow yourself to cry.
Both Greggie and I deal with the parent who is left behind and there's so much that goes on with a grieving parent. No matter how I tried to explain it to Greggie, there's no understanding it until you are the child, watching your parent start their life over again after 40 odd years of marriage. This story will be no different, and no matter how I tried to share a story of empathy or two, I know that they will only be stories until the right moment comes.
But no matter what, it's heart wrenching to see a friend I love so dearly so torn apart by pain and shock. I just want to hug her until all the agony goes away. I want to do so much, say so much and help so much. But all I could do was take a salad for dinner, give her a hug, wipe away a tear and tell her that I would be ... for both of them.