How can something you say make up for the absence of a loved one?
or a favored pet?
Words are so powerful, giving grace when the situation seems graceless.
A brief remembrance of a different event, a glimpse of the happy times, are so precious when they are no longer possible.
But the firs thing I always say is, I am so sorry for your loss.
Because when my first husband died, that phrase, more than any other. was what I wanted to hear.
I didn’t want to hear that he was too young,
I didn’t want to hear that he was out of pain.
I didn’t want to hear that he was in a better place. What better place could there be than the life he enjoyed here on earth?
All of those phrases were meant to convey caring but I heard them as awkward judgements of the situation filtered through the speakers hopes and beliefs.
I needed to feel that people understood that his loss was the biggest I had ever had.
That EVERYTHING was different afterward,
No hoped for single show in a SOHO gallery was ever going to happen.
No teaching a new generation of artists about the history of Abstract impressionists.
No walks on the beach holding hands with our child.
Nothing.
And the nothingness that fills the gaps between the grief is what really hurts.
This week a family in Bellingham is grieving the loss of their magical, caring boy.
Caleb Kors was killed in an accident at home while practicing his craft of circus performance.
This little clip from the Farmers market shows his ability to approach and capture the hearts of the public.
And the clip from a Bellingham Circus guild included in this article captures the magic that performing can have on a person, on a community
So instead of a recipe today, I leave you with a tool.
For the next time that you have a challenge in your community.
Here is a way to keep the family fed, chores done and support shown.
All while they do the more difficult task of filling in the nothings in their new reality.
You can specify allergens and personal preferences with ease.
