There is a vortex of grief that pulls you down and then an opposite force lifts you up. I think of my gal pals, who would rather be sleeping in the early morning hours, rise and meet me for a walk. It is my neighbor who hugs me on her steps knowing attending the McCallie graduation will be hard. It is our friends across the street who always stop and ask how we are doing. It is the Blis girls that have forever thoughtfully included us for every party and celebration. It is my neighbor Mollie that stood by our side for four years and every day since. And there are no words to explain the support and love from my Mom and Dad. The list includes everyone who calls, emails and sends cards.
But I always wonder about those who can't look us in the face. The ones that avoid us, pull back when we talk about Joe, as if he never existed. The ones that enter that uncomfortable zone, not knowing what to say or do.
It is not what is said, or not said. It is the hug, the smile, the invitation, the inclusion that is comforting. The acceptance that we are different, but still the same.
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