From the Outside Looking In

I want to take it away. The pain, the agony, the terror.

I see it staring from behind your eyes; disbelief, horror, sadness- deep, deep sadness.

I see you suffer from the unending assault of loneliness.

Why? Why you?

I want to understand. Yet, I know I cannot, until I myself experience the severing death of my loved one. Who wants to experience the pain? Not me.

This pain.

The pain that you would not wish upon your worst enemy.

That pain.

Teach me.

I am your closest friend.

Entrust me with the sacredness of your heartache.

Call me in the middle of the night when your bed feels like a vast wilderness of barren open space. When the loneliness screams from the shadows. Call me.

Allow me to hold you as your body wracks and your lungs heave.

Trust me with your unending tears. Allow me to catch them and gather them in the palm of my hand.

Please eat the casserole. Grief is hard work and you need your strength. Take nourishment.

Your agony is hard to witness. I don’t know what to do. I quietly sit by your side. Enduring the silence with you.

I can’t take this burden from you. You wouldn’t want to part with it. This is your grief, a testimony of your love.

Take my hand. Guide me down this path. I will look for clues as to how I might ease your suffering.

You allow me to enter your privacy, I am grateful. I am here for as long as it takes.

You are my friend and I will not let you face this alone.

But please understand, I am on the outside looking in.