Sometimes There Simply Aren't Words.

Sometimes there aren’t words to express what you want to say. As someone who loves and writes (not all that eloquently at times) words? This is hard to accept.

With the recent passing of a certain special little boy, today is one of those days- where there aren’t enough (or the right) words. My social media is full of people looking for the proper things to say. Searching for a way to let the family know they are there. Grabbling with their (and their children's) sense of mortality.

While I love words and all they can do for people? This is not my strongest suit. I’m more of a do-er. Do you need a chicken? I’ll make it. Are you not sure what else to do? Eat a cookie – I’ll bake those, too. It’s the easiest way for me to tell you I care - and to have something tangible to show for it.

Words can seem so empty, at times. Mainly because we’re taught to say things like “It’s okay.” Or  the famous “At least they aren’t suffering anymore.” We give them an “I’m sorry.” These always seemed so empty to me. Words can’t fill the void that someone leaves in your life or your heart. Neither can cookies, honestly. But they can fill that gap in your pants pretty easily, trust me. I can make sure you no longer need a belt to hold those pants up if something dreadful happens in your life.

This isn’t to say we shouldn’t say these words. People still find comfort in knowing that there are people there for them and with them. And that’s the best way most of us know to show that we sympathize with other humans.

But we can’t fully comprehend what another person has lost. There’s no way. Even my own family doesn’t know what I have lost. Because my relationship with Dad was different than theirs. Likewise, I have no idea what my mother has lost. I haven’t been married for 32 years. I haven’t lost a spouse, a partner in crime, the other parent to my children. I can’t even begin to wrap my mind around the loss someone experiences when their child passes away. But I do know it’s special and important and so freaking big to everyone involved. The loss seems especially heavy when it is a child like this one - one that has been shared with the entire world.

When you fight for your existence every day, people take notice. People relish in the hope that you give them. They grasp onto the strength that a tiny human can show them. And you become a part of their life. The world was blessed to have such a great family surrounding him –a family that shared him with so many people. They shared his highs, his lows, his triumphs, and his final fight with people. I hope that everyone who had the honor and privilege to meet (even just virtually or briefly) this family and their amazing little boy takes notice of what he has taught them, how strong his family has been, how gracious they were to share everything they have with people. His time was limited here, but they shared him endlessly.

They say it takes a village to raise a child. And sometimes it takes a child to show a village what courage and strength and honor are really about.

I know these are just words, and they can’t heal the friends, family, and loved ones that surrounded a brave little boy. So if anyone needs tighter pants, let me know. I’ll be in the kitchen, making some cookies.