by Kelly Osmont, TCF. Portland Oregan

You asked, "How are you doing?" As I told you, tears came to my eyes, you immediately began to talk again, your eyes looked away from me, your speech picked up and all the attention you had given me went away.

How am I doing? I do better when people will listen to my response, even though I may shed a tear or two, for I so want their attention, but to be ignored because I have in me pain which is indescribable to anyone who has not been there, I hurt and feel angry. So when you look away, I am again alone with it.

Really, tears are not a bad sign, you know! They're natures way of helping me to heal. They relieve some of the stress of sadness. I know that you fear that asking how I am doing brought this sadness to me.

No, you're wrong: the memory of my son's death will always be with me, only a thought away.. It's just that my tears make my pain more visible to you, but you did not give me the pain, it's just there.

When I cry, could it be that you feel helpless? You're not, you know. When I feel your permission to allow my tears to flow, you've helped me more than you can know.

You need not verbalize your support of my tears, your silence as I cry is my key, do not fear.

Your listening with your heart to "how are you doing?" helps relieve the pain, because once I allow the tears to come and go, I feel lighter. Talking to you releases things I've been wanting to say aloud, and then there's space for a touch of joy in my life.

Honest, when I tear up and cry, that doesn't mean I'll cry forever (maybe just a minute or two) then I'll wipe the tears away, and sometimes you'll even find I'm laughing at something funny ten minutes later.

When I hold back my tears, my throat grows tight, my chest aches and my stomach begins to knot up, because I'm trying to protect you from my tears. Then we both hurt, me, because I've kept the pain inside and it's a shield against our closeness, and then you hurt because suddenly, we're distant.

Please take my hand, and I promise not to cry forever, (it's physically impossible, you know). When you see me through my tears, then we can be close again.

*SOS Newsletter of Dane County Archives

Such a blessing you are, my friend, to reach out and share with all of us, even when by lapse of time we cannot get here to write such words of assurance frequently. I am blessed by your unfaltering love of life shared openly and willingly with each of us who in in need.

May my absences due to limited energy and LOTS of WORK which buoys my spirit but saps my strength not leave you to wonder whether I fell prey to some dire circumstance. I am here and grateful for your work and the work of others in holding each up for another moment, another hour, another day.

Don't the stars look lovely tonight?
Love for the room,
Mark56