When Thanksgiving Doesn't Feel "Full"

Let me start this by saying I am having a lovely first married thanksgiving with my wife and in-laws. 

But this is not how I usually do thanksgiving. Its not how I grew up doing thanksgiving. It's the first time in 25 years (with the exception of when I was in the Macy's parade in 2005) that I haven't been with my side of the family on thanksgiving. But a traditional Pritchard-family-thanksgiving wasn't in the books this year. 

Even at dinner with my fabulous in-laws, empty chairs are hard to miss. 

Nic never had a chair at their table. My grandparents never had a chair at their table. Tommy never had a chair at their table. 

But oh how I missed them. 

Empty chairs are hard to miss. 

On a day when my social media feeds are filled with lists of what people are thankful for, prompts to "be thankful for the small stuff," reminders that "there's always something to be thankful for." On this day, I'm so thankful for my beautiful wife, my wonderful family, my fantastic friends. But I do not feel full. 

And I know that in this I am not alone. 

I know I have friends walking through heartbreak. 

Family members wrestling with loss. 

There are people with nowhere to go today. 

No food. 

No home. 

So many empty chairs. 

This is not a contest though. This is not a "it could always be worse..." thing. Life is not a contest. Your experience has value, it is not better or worse than mine. It is. 

Maybe instead of pushing, "be thankful for the small things," we can say that it's okay to be both thankful and grieving the loss of what you once knew as normal. It's okay if nothing about today feels thankful to you. 

These holidays often make us more acutely aware of the broken parts of our lives. The things missing. The glitz and the glamour of this season can also make it so much more difficult to say that we are hurting. That we are not okay. 

"We have to fight to remember that “other people exist” (Don Miller quote), that we are surrounded by other people and that each of these other people is living a story and every single story has questions and pain of it’s own. If we only ever think about ourselves and our drama, we will miss the priceless privilege of stepping into the stories around us.

i think we have to fight to not get lost in our own pain. i think we have to fight to remember the good, the things we love around us, the things not lost, the things that we are thankful for. Don’t buy the lie that the story is just a tragedy. And don’t buy the lie that you are the only character in the story." - Jamie tworkowski 

So today I remain thankful. For the losses that have shaped me. For the beautiful year I've had. For my spectacular wife. My wonderful friends. The family that I'm missing so deeply today. 

Because maybe it is possible to be both thankful and broken. Perhaps even thankful for the brokenness. 

Please stay.

And so we choose to stay...

Those words have stuck with me lately. I've watched friends walk through dark times this year. I've acknowledged (I mean celebrated seems like a terrible thing to say) the 3rd anniversary of my brother's death. I've been engaged. And because of this engagement, I've both won and lost friends. But I am eternally grateful for those friends who choose to stay. 

I've watched friends and family enter and leave relationships that weren't serving anyone. 

I've walked with those I love the most to the edge of the darkness. And, above all odds, they choose to stay. 

There are no good things to say about the fact that there is such a thing as World Suicide Prevention Day. The fact that it has to be shouted to the world that MENTAL ILLNESS IS AN ISSUE shakes me to my core. 

It's no wonder so many do not choose to stay. 

When someone tells you that they're hurting, you must listen. And I mean LISTEN. So often we listen to respond. Have you been listening to hear? Really hear? 

Walking along someone with depression or anxiety or any number of "mental illnesses" is not easy. But I speak from experience when I say that it can SAVE A LIFE. 

According to recent statistics, 105 people die by suicde daily. That means that since my alarm went off this morning, the world is now missing 105 beautiful souls. On the day my brother died, 104 other people also left this world of their own choice. 

Why? Why is this still an issue?

WHY AREN'T WE LISTENING WHEN PEOPLE SAY THEY ARE HURTING?!

People are different than we are. This world is made up of black, white, gay, straight, trans, male, female, and a million other different things. The fact that we are all different is what makes this beautiful. This is not a race issue. This is not a sexuality issue. This is not a gender issue. This is a PEOPLE issue.

But we have to LISTEN. Listen to people who are different than us. LOVE people who are different than us. 

You don't have to agree with someone to love them. 

You don't have to understand someone to love them.

You don't even have to like someone to love them. 

Love won't fix everything. But it will make a difference. Love people. Walk with them through the hard times. When they apologize for making you "listen to their pointless drama," remind them of their importance; that it isn't pointless. 

Remember that what may seem trivial to you is the world to someone else. 

If you're the one that's hurting, I'm sorry. I'm sorry you know what depression or anxiety or whatever it is feels like. If you're like me and you know what it feels like to lose someone to suicide, I'm sorry. 

If someone has made you feel like you're not worth it, I'm sorry. You are worth it. You are beautiful and fantastic and smell like sunshine. 

It gets better friends. But it's not magic. There's no magic words. No magic pill (although I'm a fan of seeking medical help!). It takes time. There is still some time. Please. Choose to stay. 

Your life is worth living. "You cannot be replaced. There is literally no other person who is living your story today. You are singular. And that is amazing." 

If you or someone you know need help or are in crisis, here are some resources: https://twloha.com/find-help/local-resources/

Please. 

Choose to stay. 

Above all else, choose to stay. 

"Above all else, we choose to stay. We choose to fight the darkness and the sadness, to fight the questions and the lies and the myth of all that’s missing. We choose to stay, because we are stories still going. Because there is still some time for things to turn around, time for surprises and for change. We stay because no one else can play our part.

Life is worth living.

We’ll see you tomorrow."

I'll see you tomorrow, my friend. 

Robin Williams is my brother

Today I googled Robin Williams. The first page of links related to his death and so called “memorials” (Read this really good article about why that terrible “Genie you’re free” post is so dangerous.). Here’s the thing about being a survivor of suicide: it never ends. Every time I see someone post about a death by suicide on social media, my stomach churns and I begin to relive my own brother’s death again. I know I’m not alone in this experience…I (unfortunately) have many friends with similar experiences.

In the wake of Robin’s death, I’ve seen some really good articles. But I’ve also seen some really terrible ones. I’ve seen people post on Facebook that Robin Williams was selfish or took the “cowardly” way out. You must realize that for ME to see this on Facebook, chances are good that we are “friends” or one of my “friends” liked said post. Really people? Here’s the thing about social media: your actions matter. And you need to know that your post about how Robin Williams was selfish or cowardly can be seen by me, and any other number of your friends that you may not even know have been affected by suicide. Words matter. They can hurt and they can heal. We need to stop telling our children and ourselves that “sticks and stones may break our bones, but words can never hurt us.” It’s not true, and it only makes worse the pain people hearing those hurtful things feel.

Here’s the thing about mental illness: it doesn’t discriminate. It doesn’t care if you are young, old, male, female, gay, straight, Christian, atheist…it doesn’t care. It can attack ANYONE. If you knew my brother, you know he was Robin Williams. The guy who would run around and make a fool of himself to make you laugh. The guy who lit up the room with his contagious smile and laugh. And he was also the guy who battled mental illness; with a conversation so difficult to have.  And yet, according to the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention, someone dies by suicide every 13 minutes. That means in the time it will take you to read this post, at least 1 person has taken their own life, leaving countless more to wrestle with the aftermath. It is the 3^rd leading cause of death in people ages 15-24 (nami.org). It is the overall 10^th leading cause of death (suicidology.org). Statistically, on the same day that Robin Williams took his own life, 107 other people did the same. The world is less 108 beautiful, valuable, loved people. Mental illness is stealing lives. The face of mental illness? It’s your brother, your neighbor, your best friend…the people you know and love the most. So let’s TALK about it.

I’m not here to tell you the facts and statistics. I’m here to tell you my story. I’m here to tell you that mental illness is real. It affects the people I love most in this life. It’s taken away my brother. Unless you’ve experienced yourself the struggles of mental illness, you don’t get to be the authority. You don’t get to tell someone with depression that they just need to look at the bright side. You don’t get to tell someone with an eating disorder that “they look fine, you don’t understand why they’re doing that…just eat”. You don’t get to call people crazy. Since my brother’s death, I’ve done a lot of research into depression, suicide and other mental illnesses, and read many stories. For those of you that think that suicide is the “easy” way out or “selfish”, consider this: Your own brain, the one responsible for keeping you alive, begins to tell you that the best thing for you to do is to kill yourself. That the people closest to you would be better off without you. That nothing is ever going to get better. Your very own brain begins to speak these LIES to you, so loudly that they become your truth. Still think it’s the “easy” way??

What you, and all of us, DO have the authority to do is LOVE people. Right where they are. And sometimes that can be REALLY REALLY hard. But it can also change, and even save, lives. We were never meant to do life alone. And this isn’t some sort of theological metaphor…we were not made to do life without other people! I’m going to be real: asking someone else to come alongside you and carry your burdens is REALLY hard. But it is not impossible. The conversation  about mental illness is hard. Really hard. Our society still places such a stigma on mental illness. But if you’re reading this and you’re struggling with depression or anxiety or any number of other mental illnesses, hear this: I BELIEVE YOU. YOU ARE NOT CRAZY. YOU ARE NOT BROKEN. YOU ARE NOT ALONE. YOU ARE LOVED. Please reach out. Send me a message. Call your friend. And if someone you know is suffering, don’t let them suffer alone. Reach out to them. Offer to go sit and watch a movie with them, or take them to lunch. ASK what you can do. And if they say “nothing”, DO SOMETHING anyways. Seriously, just do it. You’re not going to “put the idea” of depression or suicide in their head. In fact, you may just help remove suicide as an option for them. SUICIDE SHOULD NEVER BE AN OPTION.

I cannot change my brother’s death. Try as I might, he is gone. But I will not let his death go unnoticed. In a few weeks, Robin Williams will no longer be in the news. The world will move on while his family is left to grapple with the aftermath of a life gone too soon. Please don’t let the conversation end there. Continue to reach out to those around you. It doesn’t make you “weak” or “broken” or any of the other lies people may tell you to admit you need help. Your life is worth living and your story is still being told.

TWLOHA’s theme for National Suicide Prevention Week 2014 is “No one else can play your part.”  If these words don’t feel true to you, I’m sorry. Whatever role you play in my life, it is yours and yours alone. The part you play for those around you cannot be done by anyone else. If these words don’t feel true to you, I encourage you to print the logo and hang it somewhere that you’ll see it every day. Read it daily, hourly, as often as you need until it begins to feel true to you. And remind others of their importance in your story – sometimes that helps us to find our own value as well. You matter.

I’ll leave you with this quote from Jamie Tworkowski, founder of TWLOHA:

"Our job is to love people. When it hurts. When it's awkward. When it's uncool and embarrassing. Our job is to stand together, to carry the burdens of one another and to meet each other in our questions."

the blog post i don't want to be true

This is the blog post I promised almost a month ago…I’ve been working on it for a while, and then school started back and it didn’t get finished in time. I promised when this all happened, I would try my hardest to be honest with people. To be real about how this was affecting me. So here’s my closest attempt at honesty.

   

  

July 27. A day that will be forever etched in my mind as one of the worst days ever. The day the world lost one of its most precious souls. The day I lost my brother.

I’ve spent a lot of time in the last year ANGRY at my brother. Yeah, I said it. I’ve spent a lot of time wishing I could see him one more time so I could hit him with all I have. And I’m not going to lie and say I’ve completely dealt with all of that anger, but I don’t find myself angry as often. Most frequently I just find myself missing him, heartwrenchingly, desperately wishing he was still here.

No matter what you hear about grief, it’s probably not how you’re going to experience it. I vividly remember one of my most common thoughts in the days following Nic’s death being, “I can’t wait til I’ve finished grieving and am over this.” It makes me laugh (in a weird, sick way) now just how wrong and naïve I was. That’s not how this works. I’ll never be “over” this. My baby brother is never coming back.

Not only do I greive for the brother I knew, but for the brother I’ll never know. The man he would’ve been. The moments I’ll never know…the big ones, like when I have his nieces and nephews….the “little” ones, like the way he ALWAYS made everyone laugh, but could get serious like when he told me he was so proud of me and how much I deserved it when I landed my first teaching job, or the way he and my best friend loved to talk about UNC and thought knew they were gangsters. Nic was literally friends with everyone he met. But his large number of friends didn’t diminish the value he placed on each individual friendship…I could never keep his friends straight when he talked about them (and I still can’t…sorry guys!)

Logically, I know I can’t change what happened. But that doesn’t mean I don’t wish with all that I have that I could change it. I still wake up every single day certain that this is a bad dream…that this can’t be the “new normal”.

So here’s what I have to say a year later. If you’re hurting, ask for help. There’s no shame in what you’re feeling. Whatever it is, IT’S OKAY. Ask your friends, your family, a stranger for help!! Visit twloha.com to help you find local resources. If you’re a university student, check out your school’s counseling center…you can likely see a counselor for free. Call 1-800-SUICIDE and talk to someone about how you’re feeling. We live in a society that says feeling depressed or angry or suicidal is SHAMEFUL. I’m here to tell you it’s not. It’s honest and it’s real and IT GETS BETTER. Maybe it won’t get better today or tomorrow, but it gets better. Please don’t give up. It might take a lot of work and a lot of hurt and a lot of pain, but it gets better. You don’t have to live like this forever. IT GETS BETTER. Your life is worth fighting for!

Don’t let Nic’s story pass you by. The hurt he felt is an opportunity for you to find healing, to get the help you need, or to help someone you love find healing. Speak up. Help break the stigma surrounding mental illness. You are not broken. 

I know I’ve posted this before, but it is SO true and I hope you’ll take the time to read it, REALLY read it, and feel the truth in it.

The vision of To Write Love on Her Arms:

The vision is that we actually believe these things:

You were created to love and be loved. 

You were meant to live life in relationship with other people, to know and be known. 

You need to know your story is important, and you're part of a bigger story. 

You need to know your life matters

We live in a difficult world, a broken world. We believe everyone can relate to pain, all of us live with questions, and all of us get stuck in moments. You need to know you're not alone in the places you feel stuck.

We all wake to the human condition. We wake to mystery and beauty, but also to tragedy and loss. Millions of people live with problems of pain. Millions of homes are filled with questions -- moments, and seasons, and cycles that come as thieves and aim to stay. We know pain is very real. It is our privilege to suggest that hope is real and help is real.

You need to know that rescue is possible, freedom is possible, God is still in the business of redemption. We're seeing it happen. People sitting across from a counselor for the first time. People stepping into treatment. In desperate moments, people calling a suicide hotline. We know the first step toward recovery is the hardest to take. We want to say here that it's worth it, your life is worth fighting for, it's possible to change.

Beyond treatment, we believe community is essential. People need other people. We were never meant to do life alone. 

The vision is that community, hope and help would replace secrets and silence. 

The vision is people putting down guns and blades and bottles. 

The vision is that we can reduce the suicide rate in America and around the world. 

The vision is that we would learn what it means to love our friends, and we would love ourselves enought to get the help we need. 

The vision is better endings. The vision is the restoration of broken families and relationships. The vision is people finding life, finding freedom, finding love. The vision is graduation, a Super Bowl, a wedding, a child, a sunrise. The vision is people becoming incredible parents, breaking cycles, making changes. 

The vision is the possibility that your best days are ahead. 

The vision is the possibility that we're more loved than we'll ever know. 

The vision is hope and hope is real. 

You are not alone, and this is not the end of your story. 

Let me say it again....YOU ARE NOT ALONE AND THIS IS NOT THE END OF YOUR STORY.

Better Days

Better Days

Robbie Seay Band

First of all thanks for listening to our song 

We hope this finds you driving in your car 

where ever you are 

Breathe out and breathe again 

Know that life is hard

But it's worth breathing 

Listen to me now 

for love, oh love 

It's waiting for you just to say 

Here come better days 

Here come better days 

Better days and a better place 

I know 

Secondly I'm all messed up so royally 

I stumbled my way here, but wait, oh wait 

Grace has found me, shaken up my soul 

Grace will follow where ever you will go 

Listen to me now 

Grace Oh Grace, is calling for you just to say 

Here come better days Here come better days 

Better days and a better place I know 

Green grass and I'm laying in the sunlight of you 

The wind is moving through the trees blustering you 

And the better days you bring, the better places found 

Feasting at your table I'm overwhelmed 

And I lift my glass drink to those who never gave up 

Clouds pass fading into memories gone 

And all I know for life is life and love and peace 

What else could there be? 

Here come better days 

Oh, here come better days

Better days and a better place 

I know

I have to believe that there’s truth in these words – that better days lie ahead. 2012 held some of the best and worst days of my life.

Graduation, getting my first “real” job, buying my first car, traveling to Romania – some of the biggest moments of my life thus far, moments that I worked long and hard for. And there were of course the thousands of “little” moments that made up the year, wonderful friends and family.

And then, just as I started my new job (which I still adore, in case you were wondering :) ), I received news that brought my seemingly perfect world crashing down. My sweet baby brother had ended his life. (Try going to tell your brand new boss that news without looking like a blubbering mess!)The days and weeks and months that followed became some of the simultaneously best and worst of my life. I was amazed at how people just showed up for my family. And now even when I think people have forgotten, I’ll get a sweet message from someone reminding me that I’m far from forgotten. And it’s ever-humbling to be reminded that I’m not the only one deeply affected by my brother’s death. Out of this tragedy, I’ve developed some wonderful friendships, some new and some “old”. And I have to believe that some good will come of this.

I know that every day is a new day, but there’s just something so promising about a new year. A chance to start fresh, to find better days. I’m not so naïve to think that the days ahead won’t be hard or that I won’t have bad days. But I’m filled with hope that better days are coming.

This comes from a blog that Jamie wrote on TWLOHA (you can view the rest of the blog here):

Welcome to midnight.

Another year comes to a close. Another year begins.

With a moment in between.

Why the fuss?

Why the fame and fireworks?

Is it more than hype? More than something else to sell us?

Is there something to this holiday?

Something true inside it?

Because isn’t there something inside of us that aches for change…

Dreams it to be possible…

To let go.

To hold on

To leave it behind.

To start again.

To be new.

Is it possible?

The rest of the blog is fantastic, but I just really love this part. It speaks of the hope and possibility that this new year holds. I know that 2013 still holds a lot in the “year of firsts” following Nic’s death. But I also know that I am still here. Still alive. Still breathing. And so are you. And maybe we both deserve to know that this is a life worth living. Not just getting through (although some days that’s the best we can do, and that’s okay.).

So this year I will learn to live in the moment. I will [try] to be healthier (like running a 5K every month, right Kristen and Lindsay?). I’ll be more aware of people around me. And I’ll make sure that my brother’s memory lives on.

I’m including here the Vision for TWLOHA. Even if you’ve read it 100 times, I encourage you to read it one more time. And try to believe these things are true. That they are possible. That 2013 holds the beginnings of them.

The vision is that we actually believe these things…

You were created to love and be loved. You were meant to live life in relationship with other people, to know and be known. You need to know that your story is important and that you’re part of a bigger story. You need to know that your life matters.

We live in a difficult world, a broken world…life is hard for most people most of the time. We believe that everyone can relate to the pain, that all of us live with questions, and all of us get stuck in moments. You need to know that you’re not alone in the places you feel stuck.

We all wake to the human condition. We wake to mystery and beauty, but also tragedy and loss. Millions live with problems of pain. Millions of homes are filled with questions – moments and seasons and cycles that come as thieves and aim to stay. We know that pain is very real. It is our privilege to suggest that hope is real, and that help is real.

You need to know that rescue is possible, that freedom is possible, that God is still in the business of redemption…We know that the first step to recovery is the hardest to take. We want to say here that it’s worth it, that your life is worth fighting for, that it’s possible to change.

Beyond treatment, we believe that community is essential, that people need other people, that we were never meant to do life alone.

The vision is that community and hope and help would replace secrets and silence.

The vision is people putting down guns and blades and bottles.

The vision is that we can reduce the suicide rate in America and around the world.

The vision is that we would learn what it means to love our friends, and that we would love ourselves enough to get the help we need.

The vision is better endings…The vision is people finding life, finding freedom, finding love.

The vision the possibility that your best days are ahead.

The vision is the possibility that we’re more loved than we’ll ever know.

The vision is hope, and hope is real.

You are not alone, and this is not the end of your story.

So goodbye 2012. I’m glad to let you go.

Here’s to 2013. To better days.

you did NOT just say that

Since the day that Nic died, I’ve semi-joked about writing a book entitled “You did NOT just say that” about things people say to those who are grieving. But recently, I’ve decided that this really might be helpful information to put out there, because no one really KNOWS what to do or say in this sort of situation. So this is my attempt at sharing the things that have been helpful (and not so helpful) in the past months. (P.S. I’m not trying to call anyone out on anything – please know that I know anything you’ve attempted to say or do for me was done out of love and compassion.) I’ve contemplated actually publishing this, because I know there’s a chance that someone is going to be offended or get their feelings hurt by this and because I’m being painfully honest and vulnerable in this. Please remember that this whole thing is MY opinion – do with it what you will!
 
Section 1: Things NOT to Say or Do (particularly to survivors of suicide)
-          “This was just God’s will.” Okay, first of all that’s not comforting ever. But Nic didn’t die by accident. He made a choice. And while I believe with ALL my heart that God works all things together for good, I don’t think this was what He wanted or willed for Nic’s life. And in the depths of tragedy and heartache, cliché things like this just make it more painful than it already is. (Also in this category, things like: “He’s in a better place now.” – I don’t want him in a better place – I want him HERE, “Heaven has a new angel.” “He’s gone to be with Jesus.” “He’s in a better place now.” “You’ll get to see him again one day.”)
-          “God doesn’t give you more than you can handle.” I started to make this one a subsection of the previous bullet, but then I decided it deserved it’s own line. First of all, I don’t think that statement is true. I think that God gives us more than we can handle on our own so that our only choice is to rely on Him. BUT GOD DIDN’T DO THIS. GOD DIDN’T “GIVE” THIS TO ME. Nic made a CHOICE.
-          “I know how you feel.” You don’t. Even if the EXACT same thing happened to you, you don’t know how I feel. Please don’t tell me you do. Instead, try things like, “I can’t even imagine.”
-          “He was such a good kid.” He was. You’re right. But this makes it sound like only “bad” kids commit suicide. This can happen to ANYONE! It’s not only kids who look or act a certain way.
-          “This was so unexpected.” Duh. I am very much aware of that. I did not expect it either.
-          “I’m here if you want to talk.” I know this comes from a good and honest place, but if we have never talked about anything more than what we had for breakfast, I probably don’t want to talk to you about this. HOWEVER, that being said, this is different than things like, “Hey I know we haven’t talked in a while, but I heard what happened and I’m really sorry.” That is actually quite meaningful and appreciated.
-          “It’ll be okay.” Again, YOU DON’T KNOW THAT. And by saying this, you’re invalidating my feelings of not being anywhere near okay.
-          “How are you doing?” To be fair, this question becomes more acceptable as more time passes. But in the first days and weeks afterwards, the answer to that question is pretttyyy obvious. And chances are good of you getting a snarky response from me (my apologies to anyone I actually did that to). Also, if I run in to you in the grocery store, at work, etc, chances are good that’s not the place I’m going to want to or feel comfortable admitting how I am really feeling.
-          “Just remember the good times with Nic.” Yes, I have 17 years’ worth of awesome memories with Nic. But remembering those doesn’t automatically take the pain away. In fact, some days it makes it worse. Saying this makes it seem like you’re dismissing the present pain.
-          “Did he leave a note? How did he do it? Etc.” This is super personal information, first of all. Second of all, how does that help? He did it. Isn’t that enough? It makes it feel like you are de-personalizing (is that even a word??) what happened.
-          “Let me know what I can do.” Let me be honest with you. I can hardly remember who came through our house in those first days, let alone people who sent me emails or messages. I know you genuinely do want to help, but leave your information with a family member or friend so that once the dust settles and we really do need you, we can remember who said what. Be sure to specify what you can help with – food, housing for family members, etc. (shout out to Karla Wade and Kristen “Christian” Murray who helped us with all of this!!! Love you friends J)
-          Other cliché’s such as, “Hug lots of people because everytime you hug someone, a little of the pain goes away.” Okay wow. Yes, someone really said this. And yes, I quite love hugs. Especially from people who are helping me bear this load right now. But that doesn’t make the pain “go away”. Think before you speak. Silence or “I don’t know what to say” is SO much better than cliché’s!
-          Telling me about every person you ever knew that committed suicide. Not helpful. If you are telling me about your best friend or dear relative, I’m willing to listen. But your grandma’s best friend’s cousin? Not helping. I do however think that it’s important to be open and honest about our stories, and so I genuinely did appreciate people who told me things like, “This happened to me and it really, really sucks right now. But please know that…eventually…it gets better.”
-          Suggestions of how I should be feeling or responding, such as, “you have every right to be mad” when I have not made one comment about being mad. 

- Pity. Don't feel sorry FOR me. I know this really really sucks. But I don't need your pity. If you want to feel sorry WITH me, to greive with me, to tell me how much it stinks, I would LOVE that. But please don't pity me!

--          Sending flowers. Flowers are pretty, but they DIE and then its super depressing for the person who has to throw them away. Plus, who has room for 30 bouquets of roses in their house??

Section 2: Things TO Say (or do)
-          “I’m sorry.” It seems so simple, but it’s so much more helpful than all the things I listed in Section 1.
-          “This really sucks.” This is helpful because it’s the TRUTH! It DOES suck. Thank you for acknowledging this fact and for validating my feelings. It’s okay to agree with me that this is really, really terrible. You don’t have to fix it or make it better.
-          “I don’t know what to say.” Follow this up with a hug or just sitting with me, even in the heavily awkward silence. This statement is so honest and real and feels better to me than cliché’s. And don’t be afraid to cry with me. It’s okay for you to cry too. It hurts.
-          “I love you.” Only say this if you do love me. Don’t be a creeper. Haha. But seriously, there are days in the darkness of this tragedy that I feel super-duper unlovable. Having people remind me that I AM in fact lovable is very helpful.
-          “Whatever you’re feeling? That’s okay.” I think that this was one of the MOST helpful things that was said to me. Because I was feeling a LOT of things (still am feeling a lot of things) and the reminder that it was okay was helpful.
-          “Whenever you’re ready” or “Only if you want to.” There were (and still are) times I simply wasn’t feeling up to going somewhere or doing something, especially if it related to Nic. But I have a hard time saying no, so adding those words on to the invitation gave me an out if I needed it.
-          Sharing sweet and funny stories about Nic.
-          Remind me that you haven’t forgotten – that you think of me from time to time. That you remember Nic. Because the longer it has been, the more it feels like people forget. 
-          Food. Food is always good. Send food, send gift cards to restaurants, all of those things. Because it gives one less thing to worry about…but you should check with the family first – we ended up with WAY to much food in the beginning! Send what my mom calls “cupboard casserole” – all the ingredients for something that they can just quickly throw together, but that doesn’t require much freezer/fridge space.
-          Send paper products, tissues, toilet paper, coffee. There will be lots of people in and out of the house, and these things run out quickly.
-          Offer to do household chores – walk the dog, clean the bathrooms, mow the lawn.

Section 3: After the dust settles (and other miscellaneous things)
                Here’s the most wonderful and the most terrible thing about tragedy: life goes on. Which is a painful thing for the people most intimately involved in such tragedy. It feels like people forget – like they move on or get over it. But for those of us in the depths of this storm, the shore feels really far away. Someone recently explained it to me using Hurricane Katrina. When the storm first hit, there were fundraisers everywhere, every other night there was a telethon on TV. But now, people have moved on. But there are people who are still devastated by the effects of the hurricane. For those of us in this hurricane, it’s not about “moving on” or “getting over it”. It’s about learning to live with the way life is now. Learning to live this life to the fullest. And that is a really, really hard thing to learn.
                Lots of people offer to hang out or things like that. This helps, but to be honest I’m not the most social person lately. And it doesn’t help that I have been super busy. My social interactions are limited to my inner circle for the most part. But please don’t think that your offers don’t matter or that I won’t eventually take you up on them. (Side note – Don’t take this to mean that this isn’t what the rest of my family wants!)The most meaningful things? The cards people have sent me, particularly within the last month. There’s something about someone taking the time to write a card and stick it in the mailbox that just seems so meaningful.
                There are good days and bad days. If you ask me how I’m doing, some moments I might say “good” and some I might say “bad”. Neither of these is a lie or untruth. They just speak of how I feel in that moment. If anything in this blog offended you or hurt your feelings, I’m sorry. But these things are honest and I’m in a desperate search for honesty in my life right now. Know that I am well aware that whatever you may have said or done for me was done in love and I appreciated it.
P.S. I love you Nic.