adjective: easily broken or damaged
Tonight, my mom found out that her dear, lifelong friend is dying of stage four cancer. Her survival odds are pretty low...grim. She's one of the most beaufiful and carefree and trusting souls I've encountered. Her husband shared Christ with my father 30-plus years ago and changed our family tree forever. This friend was a mentor to my mama in their early years of being young marrieds, and then as young families. Mom calls her "the big sister I never had." When geography separated them physically, they shared life from a distance. They shared the heartaches and joys of raising children in this broken world. And now they're new grandparents together.
So when my sister sent me a message with the news, I knew I needed to call my mom. Not because "misery loves company." Because grief is the great isolator, as you once wrote to me.
As I dialed mom's phone number, I had no idea what I was going to say. And as the phone continued to ring, I realized the only thing to say was that I love her. No, I have never walked with a loved one through cancer. No, none of my closest friends have died. But I remembered what you worte. We just want to be known in our pain. Simply, known. So, through sobs on her voicemail, I told my mom that I heard the news about her dear friend, and that I love her.
Then, I ran upstairs and dug a box from underneath my bed. It's my box of letters saved over the years. Wedding invitations and birth announcements. Birthday cards and Christmas cards--the kind with the all-American family similing back at me. But this time, I wasn't looking for a walk down memory lane. I was looking for you. And there you were, sitting right on top, all your letters tucked nicely in a bundle tied with ribbon. You and beautiful, sweet, perfect Aria. And your heart. Your God-given heart to love deeply and passionately. So I reread your pain, and your faith, and your passion.
In one of your letters, you wrote about "...when we were younger, we always did what was easy. Now we know true blessings are always hidden behind tough stuff." I'm pouring over your rhetoric so I may better understand just how fragile we are, and how to love the brokenhearted more deeply.