My Gift is My Grief

People say things come in threes: good, bad, and awkward. Yesterday a conversation about trips to visit sick relatives and saying final goodbyes, just in case. Today a text saying my dear friend had lost her baby, my heart aches. These moments make me catch my breath–they cause my instinct of “reaching out” to kick in immediately. It’s moments like these that I am thankful for my own grief and how it has taught me to share with others and support others. My advice, empathy, and care would be very different without my experiences with my grandma and mom and other close family friends who’ve been sick or gone through hardship.

But as soon as my breath catches in my throat, I hold it there and don’t let it out for a while. My mind changes to the mode of “where and what is number three?” And then I have to tell myself to breathe. It’s different for everyone. But it’s nice to have others who walk alongside of you who understand because of the thread of shared experience.

Thankful to have received and to share compassion and love in times of need.

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