Perspective
When I was six years old, my father died unexpectedly. It was shocking and sad and I had no concept of the lifelong repercussions this would have on my family and me. Looking back, at what at tiny girl I was, I realize how hard that was to try to make sense of in the moment. My very blurry memories of that day go something like this:
-Get picked up from school.
-Wait for my mom to get home.
-Have my mom break the news to my brothers and me.
-Take a nap.
-Wake up from nap with my best friend’s mom sitting at the foot of my bed.
In that moment, in that haze, remembering the news I’d heard earlier that day, I barely understood the next thing Nancy said to me: “He was a good man.”
It meant virtually nothing to me then. It means just slightly more to me now.
And yet….
Today, I heard that a person I love very much, someone I have known and who has known me down to my soul since I was 18-years-old, lost her husband. Their fifteenth anniversary would have been next weekend. I was a bridesmaid in their wedding.
I called her as soon as I heard. Between the story of how it happened, and me stuttering, “Oh my god” every few seconds, all I could think to say was, “He was a good man.” It’s true, and it’s the best I could do. I couldn’t make it better. I couldn’t make it worse.
Tonight, I’m hugging my husband a little tighter. That’s all I can do. I’m heartbroken.