The Thing Is....

Here's the thing.

This is a post that has been on Kyle's mind 
for a long time.

Since the passing of one of our Cholangio friends
this past year, in fact.

He started a post once that was raw and angry
and we never hit publish.

It didn't feel right, yet.

I have written and re-written a similar post
without finding the right words over and over 
and hit then erase.

Every single time.

Erase.

Erase.

Erase.

Today I was reading some quotes from a favorite book,
The Fault in our Stars, which happens to be a beautifully
tragic book about dying from cancer.

As luck would have it, it strikes a chord with
our hearts right now.

(Imagine that?)

The quote that set my brain to thinking once again
about this subject matter was as follows...

"That's the thing about pain.  It demands to be felt."

To.be.felt.

Felt.

And that feeling stuff?
It's some messy, awful, hard stuff.

What Kyle wrote about so many months ago, and 
what I have wrestled with so often in my tortured heart
is simply that.

Feeling pain.

Feeling the pain.

Feeling.

So often in death, that is accompanied by pain--
a raw, deep, cutting, leave you breathless kind of pain--
we try and diminish the pain.

To make it not real.

In order to NOT feel.

But this pain? It demands to be felt.

There is no way around it.

There are no magical words, or religious phrases,
or trite cliches that truly take that pain away.

It is still there, inside of us, NEEDING to felt.

We cannot go over, or under, or around the pain.

The ONLY way to the other side is 
THROUGH it.

Through the pain.

By saying things like "well, they are in a better place
now"  or "at least they are out of pain" or
"Jesus just needed another angel" or, or, or....

In so doing, in saying these things,
we are denying the very existence of what cannot be
negated or nullified or voided.

Nor should it be.

Kyle has felt an anguished, painful, resentment when 
someone has passed away and the only responses people
give are something that tries to diminish the pain
he has felt in his heart.

(He's actually a big fan of the custom they have in 
Judaism of the rending of ones clothes when they
hear the news of the passing of a loved one.
What a beautiful thing to physically rip away a part
of yourself, metaphorically speaking via the clothing,
in anguish and grief.  Because lets be honest,
that's what it feels like.  Like a piece of your heart
has been ripped from your soul and body and life.) 

Here's the thing.

We know people are trying their best to offer condolences,
and comfort and love--but in trying to take away something
that must be traveled through, there is a great
disservice being done when we immediately offer
empty promises and cliche phrases.

I believe that everyone out there has every right
to feel whatever it is they feel in this process.

There are no two ways about it, we all do this differently.

Kyle just wanted to share how HE feels, how I feel.

"That's the thing about pain.  It demands to be felt."

I have no peace in the thought of my husband dying.
I guess that may surprise some people.

(But probably not if you've been reading all along)

I don't want my ears to be filled with cliches
about how much better off Kyle will be when he's gone.

Kyle knows that I will probably want to punch people 
when they tell me and my children all the things
that well meaning people will tell me and my children.

The thing is, we want him here.

Selfishly and fiercely and stubbornly and 
with our entire bodies and hearts and souls, 
we want him here.

Not one single thing (not ONE SINGLE THING) you
say will make it any better that he's leaving his 
4 kids and me.

Not one thing.

We will all still have to travel through the pain
and heartache that is calling our names.

Slowly working our way to the other side of it.

I am certain that though the task will be long
and arduous, with many many many bumps along the way,
we WILL come through the pain to honor Kyle.

So I guess what we're doing here is giving you 
all fair warning.

Do not try and diminish our hearts.

Do not try and diminish our memory of Kyle.

Do not demand that we not feel.

We honor him with our pain.

(The greater the love, the greater the loss. Right?)

And when the time comes, the loss will be profound.

And we plan to feel it.

And that's the message. 
The message Kyle wanted to share so many many months ago.

The message of pain and love and loss.

That's the thing.

That's what we've got for today.