you guys are great…and i thank you.

grace in times of sorrow is one of the hardest things for us humans to learn…how to just be, with someone else’s sadness. i know this, but still trip over myself trying to find silver linings in other people’s misery, whenever random sadness sideswipes me in casual conversation. i sputter, and platitudes squeak from my averted face, and then i go home and beat myself about the head for having been so freaking stupid and bovine and nervous. but…hell, i’m human. social conditioning is hard to undo. learning takes time.

being on the other side of grief and sadness takes time to learn to negotiate gracefully, too. as i said in the preface to the post which unleashed the very humbling and appreciated outpouring of kindness from you all, my own sad is familiar to me now, and not entirely unwelcome…but it’s isolating. i’m only slowly learning to talk about it, and through it, because i am afraid of clamming others up, of scaring people away. i’m scared of the awkwardness, and the silences, and my own tears intruding on otherwise pleasant public interactions.

thank you for not running away.

i’m afraid of being labelled by sorrow, too. when my grief was fresh and raw, it was like a raging drunk hanging over my life, always poised to go on a rampage. it was so powerful that i sat in awe of it, afraid to acknowledge it publicly for fear of it rearing up and taking over, causing scenes and destruction i couldn’t undo. i didn’t want to be whispered about as “the crazy lady who lost her baby.” hell, i didn’t want to become the crazy lady who lost her baby. i didn’t trust my sorrow, not did i trust anyone else with it, outside Dave and a few rare, precious friends. but, as the rawness fades, hiding gets in the way of real healing. every time i hide the sadness i feel it doubly…and i feel like i dishonour Finn.

so thank you for letting me honour him, instead…with my sadness and my remembering, and my telling. thank you for listening, and offering the comfort of just saying “i hear you. i see the absence. i’m sorry.”

i needed that, and you all gave.
and…so very sadly…if you have any more of that grace to give, little Doss‘s parents and twin sister could probably use it too.