Sometimes I wish

i carry your heart

here is the deepest secret nobody knows(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

e.e. cummings

Friendship which endure time, do so, not out of some Hallmark version of loyalty, they last because they do not shrink from the difficult times. They aren’t reserved for good days only. Enduring friendships knows don’t have boundaries that block suffering.

“Sometimes, I just wish I was someone different who shared that link. Who is my friend, but doesn’t seem to know how much it means to me and my family to help us. Who doesn’t seem to know how much we need you. I am so tired. Please help, please do something. Oh. And, to be a friend. This is a lifetime commitment. My pain will not go away. It will not get easier. I will need you, as my friend, for as long as I live.”

As I read those words posted on the Facebook timeline of a friend who I met because of what we share in common–we both know the effect that abuse in a relationship can have.

Our difference?

Her daughter is buried and I am alive. I need you to know I love this woman in a way I find difficult to express. What I can articulate is this. It is as she is, pain and all. I hope and pray I never know the anguish she suffers first hand. I may not be able to take her pain away but acknowledging her pain without expectation or judgement is a way I may remain present for her.

“Sometimes I just wish…” she muses. “I was someone different who shared that link…”

A link that if you open will show you her courage. Her mission. Her intention.

I want you to know she works endlessly so that no one has to experience her pain first hand. My friend shares her daughters story to ensure that no other parent has to live with an absence that will never ever end. My friend shares her daughters story to prevent another teenager from losing their life at the hands of someone who claims to love them.

My friend shares her daughters story and in that sharing her daughter lives on–not as you or I do–she makes her way into your heart.

I know, because she is in mine. And I carry her in my heart.

Parents who suffer the loss of a child don’t “get over it.” They don’t “move-on.” They will never be the same. They move forward in time with their memories, their regrets, their devotion, their endless loss, their love.

Don’t shrink from them, love them as they are…