I sat down to write to you, my empath, and realized
I have nothing to say. This doesn’t happen too often, but
it did today.
Maybe I feel so FULL that nothing is coming to me. Maybe
I have TOO much to say and don’t know where to begin.
I want it to be useful to you and not just some ranting.
But maybe there is purpose and service in my ranting. That’s
what my gut says, and so let’s see where this takes us.
This week has felt difficult and heavy. On 10/19, I lost my Uncle
Ray, who was like a caring father to me. Immediately after
seeing him disappearing and gaunt in his hospital gown (and not
able to speak to us) the Saturday before, my husband and I left
for an anniversary vacation to Ridgedale, MO.
So I got to bury my head in the sand about the reality of things. But
now tomorrow I must confront the reality that he’s really
gone because we’re having his memorial service.
A couple of days ago, we honored our daughter, Maddie,
who passed two years prior on 10/26/18 at 22, by playing Parcheesi
and eating Wan Fu. It feels like quick sand that she isn’t here
to speak with and swoon. Words don’t serve here to describe
how I feel.
Three years ago today, we lost Bob, Steve’s brother, to
alcoholism at 53, way too soon. So this week feels surreal and sad.
But….yet….I feel grateful. My heart feels full that I got to
love these people (and sometimes not). I got to live life imperfectly
with them—overstepping my boundaries, advising them on
things that they didn’t want advice about, like their health, their
undesirable habits, their closed minded-ness, etc.
They also got to see the best of me, where I loved them deeply.
Deeply listened. Had compassion. Stayed on my side of the street.
Did they always receive this love? Most certainly not. But sometimes
on one of those special, calm days, they heard. They knew in their
heart that they meant something, to me, to others, to life.
And isn’t it that way with you and me? We forget that we are
significant, that our lives have meaning, that if we left today, someone
would miss us. We matter. YOU matter.
We haven’t lived perfect lives, but we have lived OUR lives. What
if you couldn’t get that wrong? Do you have more to say than you
What if you assumed that your voice matters… Would you give more
of yourself by risking to love others who could easily stomp
on your sensitive heart?
As soon as we open our heart to another, truly let them in, we
risk disappointment and loss. And what if that’s OK and how it’s
supposed to be? No mistakes here.
When we decide to love, we open to the whole gamut of experiences,
and some of it will feel bad and some good. We welcome all of
it and wouldn’t have it any other way.
Can you imagine a world without contrast?
You have more to say than you think. I guess I did too. 🙂