Sunday, March 13, 2016
The first person I ever lost was my grandfather, the father of my mother.
We say we lose them, like they could turn up in the next moment. It took me years to pronounce the words, that three of my grandparents are dead. Instead I used the words, they moved away to the angels.
Today someone very dear to me said goodbye to someone very dear to her.
I used to wonder what can be said in these times, that would truly mean anything; words, which are more than what people say in these cases; words, which offer comfort, hope and love.
But such words in the very moment of utter numbness do not exist.
The only thing that can be offered in between the silence that hurts and the silence that heals is presence.