Snippets from Ongoing Conversations

I don’t know what to say when someone loses a loved one.

I quote Yeats, sometimes.

Not everyone loves Yeats.

Everyone SHOULD.

But they DON’T. Plus, I don’t think I can just yank out an appropriate Yeats quote. All I’ve got is… um … “And what rough beast slouches toward Bethlehem waiting to be reborn.”

Dear God, don’t say THAT.

I know! That’s what I meant.

Say you’re sorry.

I am sorry. I did say it. But it seems stupid. Like, of COURSE I’m sorry. But it seems like there should be something … better.

Better than sorry?

Meaningful. Sorry doesn’t mean anything. Because – you’re sorry when you step on someone’s toe or bump into them with a shopping cart. But when someone loses someone, you should be MORE than sorry.  There should be a better word.

I can’t think of one.

Me either. It’s making me mad.

And sorry?

Pretty much.

I think – I think that words are just words. And yes, we love words, words are awesome, and maybe there’s a better way to express sorrow – because that’s what’s underneath sorry, you know – than we can think of, but the important thing is what you do in your sorrow. How you reach out. That stuff.

Oh. Well, right. I knew that.

And you could maybe quote Yeats.

Really?

I had to try.