Letters, Interrupted
I’ve got 4 letters I need to write, 3 of them are to friends who have recently lost a parent, and, another to a friend whose mother has cancer, and, isn’t doing very well.
Before my mother got sick, I didn’t truly get it when people had ill or dying parents. Don’t get me wrong, I was sympathetic and all, but, I now know that I honestly couldn’t process the depth of that information.
Anyway, I think I’ve told you before, but, I remember thinking that when I was given the opportunity to help someone else like people did for me when my mother was ill, and died, I would do it. I would show them that I “get it”, and, they’re not alone.
So, why aren’t I satisfied with what I’m writing? Everything I come up with either sounds like it’s straight from the “how to say it” book, or, I come across as some sort of know-it-all.
I’m not full of angst and woe about it, and, I know I’m just supposed to say what I feel, etc. but, it’s just annoying that I can’t seem to get my point across to my satisfaction.
Best to keep such letters simple, I think. Say anything that you know would have been supportive or comforting to you when your own mother died.
And anyway, you don’t have to write the perfect letter. Whatever you say in the letters, your friends will know that you are thinking of them and that you care about them.
Having said all that, I will add that I hate writing such letters and often end up spending a foolish amount of time on them.
I think the reason is that there really are no words that can help. I always struggled to find them and never could when others around me lost their parents. Now, it’s happened to me. My mom died last week on Monday, and now I know why I had such a hard time — there simply are no words that can help when one’s soul is in anguish.