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Tuesday, November 12, 2013

A word about suffering

A few years ago I was blessed to make the acquaintance of a guy back home. I won't give his name here. It isn't necessary. But we became friends almost immediately and remain so to this day. 
His story touched me more deeply than almost any story I had ever heard. Basically, he was happily married with two daughters in middle school. He had a great job and a wife he adored and a nice life. He went to bed one night, just as happily married as all the other nights and woke up to find his wife had passed away in the night. No reason, no explanation. They did an autopsy and never did conclude anything as to a cause of death. He never had a hint of anything being wrong, never saw it coming and never got to say goodbye. 
In the years that have ensued, he raised both daughters to adulthood. He has faced a few more hardships along the way. His heart was shattered that morning and he comes across as angry and bitter sometimes. Sometimes that's exactly what he is. Who could blame him? 
I have had spats with him on Facebook and it's gotten heated. (We're both Italian) I've had friends say to me "Why do you tolerate that guy? He is so angry." Then I tell them his story. And I tell them that when they hear him spitting bile in anger...I hear his heart breaking. I hear his pain. I know his story. I cannot possibly imagine what he went through but I am sure it hurts more than anything I can possibly have experienced. So when my dear friend rants...I let him rant. I love him while he is ranting and I love him when he is done. We disagree a lot...we occupy opposite ends of the political sphere for the most part...but he is my friend and he is hurting still. And I love him dearly.  He has dealt with most of the pain over these many years, but I know that it still builds up sometimes and needs to vent. So I let it.
I am going through something that hurts me in ways some of you grasp but many of you do not. 
I miss my daughter. I have missed five years of bedtime prayers and Saturday morning pancakes. My daughter needs me right now more than she has in the past and I can't do what I need to do to help her. Those of you who know me, know how this hurts me. There is nothing worse in my mind than feeling like I am failing my daughter. I miss having a "place" in this world. A safe haven. I miss my dogs and my cat and my coffee maker and the way my kitchen smelled when I made spaghetti sauce. I miss what and who I was.
So if you see anger in my posts or disappointment, or a loss of faith sometimes...try to remember that I am bearing just about all the pain I can bear. I did not need to toss away ten weeks of my life chasing a job that looks now like it is not going to happen. I did not need to feel hopeful after so many years of hopelessness and then have that glimmer of light snuffed out. I do not need to be unable to keep another promise I made my daughter.If you can;t handle it...delete me. I will understand. But I will likely keep on bellowing when the pressure gets too high. Because I spend most of my life alone here and sometimes -as pathetic as this is- FB is the only place where I am heard. And sometimes being heard is the only way we remember we are alive.
I hope you understand this.

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