My best friend just lost her twenty-two year old daughter. There is nothing worse that can happen to a parent, nothing.
I already know there is no answer to the maddening question why. Why why why? The lack of an answer is so cruel. All a person wants is a little clarity, a little lessening of the pain, a little understanding. What comes is a void of hurt and anguish, and no answers.
Life makes no promises. I know that. Life has great joy and great anguish. We must not forget to enjoy every moment we possibly can with the ones we love. I know that too. I know that when my older sister died (she was 31), I was unable to fully comfort my mother because of my inexperience with death. At twenty-five and pregnant, I struggled with my own grief and could not comprehend what my parents were going through. I have a better idea now.
I hope that in some small way, I am giving my best friend some of the comfort I could not give my mother all those years ago when we lost my sister. I hope my mother had a friend to help her. I hope. What else is there to do now?
Quiet things soothe the heart after the sobs and keening of grief: a shoulder for tears and time, so much time. Each person must go through it alone, trudging through each day until enough days have gone by that a tiny mend appears in the tear. It is easily torn anew with the slightest memory or thought, but each time the tear heals a tiny bit stronger. Then a miracle occurs and the good memories begin to nudge away the anguish, replacing the unbearable pain with a smile and gratefulness for the time you had together.