I believe that sometimes there are questions that simply have no answers and words that need not be spoken. It began in January of 2008 and I was on a plane on my way to Colorado to see my best friend. I was nervous and unsure, my palms felt clammy. I am not that fond of flying and my stomach is tied in knots. The combination of it all makes me grateful for the short flight.
My friend, my sister, though not by blood had never in 20 years let me down in times of need. She is the one who always seems to know the right things to say when you need to hear it the most. She was my rock and my shoulder to cry on when life seemed unbearable. I sat starring out the plane window wondering what I could possibly say or do to take away that unbearable feeling, for her and her family, that I know will never really go away. I believe there are questions that simply have no answers.
You see, my friend and her husband had just lost their teenage son. Not by some incurable disease, complication or some unforeseen accident. He had taken his own life. I believe that sometimes there are questions that simply have no answers. What words could I possibly say that would bring any form of comfort to their breaking hearts? I can’t imagine that there are any. I’m sorry for your loss seems so impersonal. Those are the words you commonly hear from a co-worker, a neighbor or a casual acquaintance, even in the inside of a hallmark card, and although perfectly respectful and appropriate to say, it does not seem enough, not for family.
I’d arrived and made my way out of Denver heading north. I began to think of all the past things in life that now seemed petty and of no importance. As a parent I could somewhat envision what I’d be going through or what I might be feeling, the questions that would be running through my mind, but could not possibly relate. Only someone who has experienced the loss of a child could understand the magnitude of loss. I believe there are questions that simply have no answers.
As I walked up to the door and took in a deep breath I still had no great words of comfort that came to mind. I imagined I’d have something that would work its way out of my mouth once I saw her. Instead, as I worked my way through the door and we met, there was but an embrace and a steady flow of tears. I believe that sometimes there are words that need not be spoken.
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