What would you say to someone in pain?
Someone you love truly and deeply, someone from whom you would remove all pain, all suffering - if only you could?
How would you comfort a soul grieving the loss of another?
With all of the loss that has been around me of late, I have pondered these questions.
How do I comfort a friend who has lost a loved one? How do I speak a kind word in season to my sweet grandmother who is missing her husband of more than sixty years? How do I tell my aunt how much the loss of her son, my cousin, means to me - and how much his life touched mine?
Do I speak of eternity, seeking to sublimate existing woes into the perspective of forever? Do I say that sadness and pain is a purely mental thing that can be overcome with distraction, time, or self-discipline? Do I evoke the great philosophical masters, telling of how the experience of pain and loss is part of the human experience and therefore not to be shunned, but rather welcomed as the sign of continued life? Do I point to others, who, by comparison, may have things worse? Or do I seek to apply the healing balm that comes from the Savior, the healing and saving power of the Atonement, and the prospect of a joyful resurrection...
All of these things are undoubtedly true. But the extension of such words at such a time seems patronizing and demeaning. They also do not heal and uplift, but cover and diminish feeling.
Sometimes there are just no words, no words that would convey the true meaning of life and death, of grief and pain, of love and life and light and joy. There is no way to express the spark shared between people who love each other. Shared glances and embraces can convey what the tongue cannot. In the eyes of two such, intimacy can build a bridge of comfort, peace, understanding, and love, that the ears cannot bear.
Truly, more is spoken with the eyes than with the tongue.
Someone you love truly and deeply, someone from whom you would remove all pain, all suffering - if only you could?
How would you comfort a soul grieving the loss of another?
With all of the loss that has been around me of late, I have pondered these questions.
How do I comfort a friend who has lost a loved one? How do I speak a kind word in season to my sweet grandmother who is missing her husband of more than sixty years? How do I tell my aunt how much the loss of her son, my cousin, means to me - and how much his life touched mine?
Do I speak of eternity, seeking to sublimate existing woes into the perspective of forever? Do I say that sadness and pain is a purely mental thing that can be overcome with distraction, time, or self-discipline? Do I evoke the great philosophical masters, telling of how the experience of pain and loss is part of the human experience and therefore not to be shunned, but rather welcomed as the sign of continued life? Do I point to others, who, by comparison, may have things worse? Or do I seek to apply the healing balm that comes from the Savior, the healing and saving power of the Atonement, and the prospect of a joyful resurrection...
All of these things are undoubtedly true. But the extension of such words at such a time seems patronizing and demeaning. They also do not heal and uplift, but cover and diminish feeling.
Sometimes there are just no words, no words that would convey the true meaning of life and death, of grief and pain, of love and life and light and joy. There is no way to express the spark shared between people who love each other. Shared glances and embraces can convey what the tongue cannot. In the eyes of two such, intimacy can build a bridge of comfort, peace, understanding, and love, that the ears cannot bear.
Truly, more is spoken with the eyes than with the tongue.
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