The Losing Season

I know a lot of people who are grieving right now. For friends. For children. For parents. For lovers. I find my heart is broken for them, that I want to offer them something for their losses.

I also find that anything I have to say seems so small and insignificant in the face of overwhelming loss. I feel like I'm trying to wash a car with a cotton swab... ridiculous and inept.  My words sound hollow.

I believe -- with everything I am -- that grief is part of the well lived life. That one only grieves because one has had the courage to love. Because love -- all kinds of love -- takes courage when you realize that all of our stories will end the same way. As a result, loving someone -- loving anyone -- means that you have looked at the odds and decided that the pain of eventual loss is worth it, that it is more important to cherish the moment you have right now than it is to wall yourself off and protect your heart.

I believe that.

I also know that belief is sometimes not very comforting. In the moments when you long for the person you have lost, when you want nothing more than the chance to touch a cherished face one more time, knowing that you dared to love and were loved back is like a slap in the face. The knowledge that time is both precious and fleeting is not what you want someone to say to you.

So perhaps the right thing to say is ... nothing.

Perhaps there are no words necessary.

Just a pair of open arms, held out in yet more love.