A letter to a friend...

After an amazingly fun night with friends, the conversation changed directions and a friend in particular shared that he had just lost a niece and was just trying to wrap his brain around it. After sitting in silence as he shared, crying and vulnerable, said good night without a word of my own struggle. So I decided to write him and this is what came of it...

Then our night turned serious. And I am thankful for it because it was what I needed. The truth is, birthdays are hard for me. I want to share this with you because mourning is tricky. Its long-lasting, its short-lived, its everything we think it won't be and nothing we expect.

All day today, something was missing. I couldn't put my finger on it but I was waiting for something and it never came. I was anxious and nervous and I could not figure out what is was that I thought should happen. I was on my solo walk at night hike, setting up the path with glow sticks when it hit me harder than it ever has in the last 4 and a half years, I was waiting for my dad to call. I got so angry at myself because I know he is dead. I was there when my mom got the call. I picked up his things from his apartment in San Francisco. I took care of his funeral over 4 years ago. But I had somehow displaced that pain completely and had tricked myself into believing he would call, he would call and make fun of my "old age" and tell stories of his own youth. How stupid. How mean.

Then tonight we started talking about mourning, about giving grace to ourselves. I started to cry. I was speechless. More than anything I wanted to tell you that it was ok. That whatever you felt was ok. That it wouldn't be what you expected, or what others expected for that matter. That it would last for a time you couldn't control. That it will affect you at times you would never imagine. That you might not feel it when you want to or that you would be overwhelmed with emotion at the exact moment you wouldn't want to (like at your surprise birthday party/concert extravaganza) But I couldn't. So I decided to write it. I do better in this line of communication than face to face anyway.

All this to say, you are not alone. Your loss is much different than mine, but not less. Death is hard and confusing and humbling and all of those things change us no matter what degree. I don't have any wisdom just understanding and empathy for where you are and what you face. Thank you for being transparent. God used you to break me, to comfort me, and I think to continue to heal me. I will be praying for you with all my heart. Good Night.