Today my
girls Rebecca and Maria turn seven.
Much to my
relief, I can still picture them. Together. Holding hands as they were the last
time I saw them.
I’ve been
thinking a lot about the idea of strength and how that relates to the hardships
that so many people have faced at this point in their lives. I know very few
people who are untouched by tragedy - the early or unexpected loss of a parent
or sibling, the death of a child, a life changing medical diagnosis. Often
times when discussing this we say “I don’t know how they survived that…” but
what we really mean is “I’m so glad that isn’t me.”
Surviving tragedy
isn’t really about strength or a person’s character; it is that life won’t let
us quit moving forward. I don’t think I realized this until I recognized this
idea in a book two years ago. Funny because it was not a particularly great
book and not even one that I would recommend, but I found myself coming back to
this passage over and over again.
“When all
was well, you assumed that to suffer such a staggering blow would break you,
but when such ills actually befell you, you somehow persevered. You didn’t
survive to prove something to anyone, you didn’t press on simply because you
wished to, and you didn’t endure because of what the preacher in church said.
You survived because deep inside everyone was the simple, indefatigable need to
press on, whatever the costs. And even if so much was stripped away that you no
longer recognized yourself, the thing left was the part of you that you never
understood, that you always underestimated, that were always afraid to look at.
You were afraid you’d need it one day and it wouldn’t be there for you, but in
fact was the one thing that couldn’t be taken away.”
Maybe that
is what we term ‘strength’ but it is also so much more than that.
During the
weeks and months that followed their passing, I grew to hate being told I was ‘so
strong’ and ‘would survive’. As though I didn’t love my girls enough to allow
their loss to cripple me as others would. The platitudes that rolled in just
rolled over me. However, you could tell those who had been touched by tragedy
themselves in their silence and their quiet ‘I’m sorry’.
I suppose
that is why I’m choosing to write this here. There will be other tragedies in the
lives of others. You will find yourself uncomfortable and wanting to shy away
from those people who are suffering. Don’t give into the empty phrases, it isn’t
strength they need, it is quiet support and acceptance from you to allow them
to grieve and work through it. Life will push them forward and they will find
their footing again, and they will remember that you helped them understand
they weren’t alone.
Today I
remember. It would mean the world to me
if you would take a moment to remember too. Rebecca and Maria, you existed and
you continue to be loved.
