What Is Unsaid

As I stood near the coffee table at church today, an acquantaince of mine walked up to fill her cup.  Her son committed suicide last week. I had never met him. My head swam for a second trying to find the right word...but none came.  Finally, I greeted her and told her I was sorry for her loss.  "I know, there aren't any right words to say, so I'll say I love you".  To me, that sounded awkward, but she replied that was a great thing to say.  I told her we had been and would continue to pray for her, and we parted. 

I've been thinking about our exchange, and the words we use when we are faced with death.  We're ALL touch by death, our parents, grandparents, children, friends; none of us are immune.  Death is one of the most intimate parts of life, the thing that came make you the most raw.  How are we able to comfort one another?  The person who is gone is not sad or unhappy.  In fact, they are in the Kingdom of Heaven surrounded by love and light.  While in our grief, we are perhaps feeling sorry for ourselves, or feeling sorrow for the ones left behind.  You can tell them that you're sorry, that you understand, but each of us feels and experiences grief so differently.  The last thing you want to do is offend, or bring up pain.  The words hang in the air, but each is afraid to say them, afraid of the hurt they might cause.

Though the friend is not someone I know well, we are connected.  We are mothers, we are women, we are sisters, we are wives.  We have the same faith to lean on.  I do love her.  Perhaps that's all I could say to let her know that we won't forget her son, and that her loss wouldn't be in vain. 

I looked at my sons when I found out about hers, and wondered about him as a baby, how she held him and loved him.  About how he played with his cars and toys at 4, like my son.  Where had he taken a wrong turn? What were the words he needed to hear?  I pray she finds the peace he couldn't.