I didn't write today. I stayed home to write some cards, to some ex-students who just lost their father.
Except I just sat there with pen in hand, crying.
No child should lose a father. God. I remember when I lost my father at ten, a nun wrote me a heartfelt letter about how she'd lost her father at ten, too.
At the time, I thought she couldn't possibly understand what it was like. I was different. Me and my daddy had a special relationship. No one could possibly understand what it felt like.
But I remember the look in her eyes, and I know now that she did understand. That she wished that I didn't have to live through it, and wished that she could take the pain away.
When I write, I guess I try to put myself in the reader's or the character's shoes. That's not working so well for a personal letter. I can't think of what to write them. I want to tell them I know how it feels, but I know that I don't. Their relationship with their father was its own special, unique relationship.
And I think of how I felt, how they must feel, when going through the same thing. And I just cry.
I am a total wimp. I am one of the weakest people I know when it comes to stuff like this. Other people have this strength, this ability to be a rock when it matters most. Not me. I just cry. It's one of things that makes me a good teacher (can empathize) and bad teacher (empathize too much).
I wish I could think of what to say to them. I wish I could give them some gem to hang on to when things get tough. I wish I could give them some insight that would take just a little of the pain away. I wish I could write a few words that would warm their hearts and give them comfort.
Sorry for the sappy post today, LOL. What can you do? It's life, isn't it?