Thursday, April 22, 2010

The Sort of Thing...

...that happens to other people. I remember when a dear friend of mine learned her infant son would have to have a highly invasive craniofacial surgery. My heart broke for her, and I wished deeply that there was something someone could do so that she didn't have to go through such an ordeal. Tears stung my eyes as I thought about what she must be feeling and how unfair her situation was. However, we all know that gut-twisting sense of empathy doesn't come without it's own sense of relief. A secret, guilty, "thank God that's not me" kind of feeling that we are loathe to admit. It's normal. It's natural. If nothing else it makes you appreciate your own good fortune in a way you may not have before. But what do you do when it's not the sort of thing that happens to someone else?

1 comment:

  1. It sucks. There is no other way to put it. It absolutely totally sucks. You my dear, were one of the most comforting friends when we found out about Colton. I remember crying my eyes out wondering why I was the one (with all of the friends that had/were having babies) that had a child who needed "fixing" for a lack of words. I also remember a few weeks later the late night text only a day after we saw you and met Jackson that brought me to tears and kept me up for hours feeling guilty for feeling so helpless over our situtation when it was going to be fixed with an operation. Feeling selfish when you were now faced with a permanent thorn in your side. And my heart broke for you, Amy. I don't know the answer to your question. I only know that we play the hand we are dealt, no matter how crappy it is, and we hope and pray that we end up winning all the chips in the end. I'm not going to tell you how strong you are, or how great I think you are, I will just say it's okay to feel everything you are feeling. It's okay to own the pain, the anger, and the sadness. It's okay to question and to wonder. It's okay because you are a mother. And I understand, despite the differences I understand. And I only hope that I can support you as much as you supported me. Love you.