Well, yes, Abigail, they do. This is going to be a strange post. I can feel it. It is that time of year when stress levels are high, people are frenzied, and life generally speeds by. We are grabbing food on the go, shopping at the speed of light, and generally forgetting about the universe that is around us. Well, some of us are. I am coping pretty well.
Some of us are not. My blog is my online journal, and what I recently experienced has affected me to the point where, if I don't put it out here, well, as my SL says, my head will explode. I had left a blog comment about this on another site, and thought that it would be enough to lay it there. It was not.
Yesterday, I did the daily walk to the mailbox. Usually there is no one else there, but yesterday my neighbour was approaching at the same time. She had been going through some pretty rough stuff lately. Pressures at home with kids, husband working odd shifts, and she had recently lost a dear and close friend, and was trying to deal with that. I had asked her how she was doing, and she began to sob. She told me that her mother had died. It happened about two weeks ago, and they had just returned home after the 17 hour drive. I felt so bad for her, and hugged her while she continued to cry. Then she told me the story. She had received a phone call saying that her mother had gone missing. They were looking for her, and would call when they found her. There was a subsequent phone call a few days later when they found her mother. She had jumped off a bridge and killed herself. No answers. No letter. No reason. There is a kicker to this of course. Her father is handicapped, and her mother had been taking care of him. He is now alone in another province, and will not move where his daughter lives. So she is living with the additional stress of worrying about her father.
Anyway, there is nothing that I can do. I can't make it go away, and I can't make it better. But I wanted to do something. I needed to do something. So,while I was shopping, I picked up a scented candle, so that she can light it, and sit, and relax. I told her that she can come over anytime, and she thanked me.
Sometimes the things in life that we think are so huge, really are not. Sometimes we need to take a step back. We sometimes have to look outside of our little box, the little world that we box ourselves into, and look into the eyes of those around us.
What else is there?
you're right, it's all about perspective.
and that was such a nice thing you did.
It is true... most of our problems are still so minor compared to others. We all need to be reminded of that once in awhile. Thank you.
The loss of a family member, close friend, acquaintence, whatever, even when you are expecting it and know in your heart that person is suffering with a terrible illness that it is better, is still difficult enough to bear. But suicide -it leaves holes that never seem to heal completely.
A close childhood friend, took his life 30 years ago; six years later, my cousin ended his life with a shotgun blast to his head. The surviving uncle in my family brooded for 4 years until his own passing about my cousin's death, constantly asking himself what he could have done to help his nephew, to prevent him from doing such a terrible thing. The guilt trip a suicide almost always puts on family members for years and years after the death is as terrible as the death itself. My neighbor family is still mulling over what happened to their brother to cause him to do that too - after 30 years.
It is indeed good that you were there and able to provide her an outlet for her grief at that time. My heart goes out to her for the pain she is bearing now and will remain there for a long, long time to come too. Very sad, just very sad.
That was a very thoughtful thing you did. I'm sure it helped a little with her coping with all that has happened to her in recent times. Just the thought of some one else caring can make a difference.
Awww, Thats so sad!! I hope God gives her the strength and wisdom to go through this awful time of loss in her life.
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