A word to #MH370 Families on the limitation of words
A word to the families on the limitation of words.
Pain has an end, but love interrupted has no end.
If I could hold your hand, I would. Physics won’t let me reach through the page to hold your hand. I can not reach though the screen. I cannot whisper in the ear of all the families that I am here for you, even though here means a world away.
If there is a time for all things, then now is the time to cry. Cry till all the tears are gone; then tomorrow there will be one less tear to cry, and the following day, one less. Until nothing is left but the rainbow of memory.
The outpouring of empathy crosses nations. All the others who have known loss are sharing your grief. Grief is not one of those weights reduced by the number of shoulders bearing it. There is no way out from under grief—the only cure is living through it into the time of healing. So whatever it takes to choose life, let the healing begin. I know these words are less consolation than a kind touch, less than someone sitting beside you, holding your hand, providing a shoulder, an ear, a heart. You need not be desolate, alone, circling in on yourself. Mend what can be mended. When you need to speak, offer an ear. When you need help, offer a hand. Remember, this too shall pass. Remember what was good and celebrate it. Remember what was real, and let all else fall away. Let your heart be lifted. Let it be lighter from this moment on.