Dearest X,

Dearest X,
Thank you.
I believe you understand more than you know. You don't have to lose a child to be sensitive to it. The fact that you are available---willing to talk---means so much. You'd be surprised (or maybe you wouldn't)how many people, friends, fail to show up. Often others are too afraid of their own mortality--their child's mortality to acknowledge our loss. It creates a wall when I'm unable to talk about anything of real importance. I can do light conversation---but not all the time. It's okay though. I'm starting to understand. They are simply in a different place and can't go there. I don't fault them for that.

I've decided to carry a notebook with me. All throughout the day, little slivers of thought blow through my mind. Gathering them every night is akin to gathering slivers to rebuild a home, post-tornado. It is impossible and exhausting to think about. Hopefully a notebook helps.

As I struggle to articulate this mess in my head, I always appreciate your emails. Although we have never met in person, I feel you are a dear friend. You make me feel a little less crazy. A little less disconnected because on the whole, people don't like to talk about death.

And death is a part of life.

Thank you for reading, and letting our lives in. I know it's not always an easy choice.
emily