Dear Mike,
I'm so sorry. I wish I could give you some solace, but at times like these, words, however heartfelt and well-meaning, will never serve as an answer. My only hope is that you have someone close to you who can help you to get through this. While one can prepare oneself to a certain extent for one's own death, and can reach a degree of equanimity and even pleasurable anticipation for it, one cannot prepare oneself for the sudden death of others. One cannot, because if one does, then one closes oneself to the possibility of love.
When my friend Bill's seven year old son died last year, the only shred of meaning and hope I could dredge from the tragedy was that William had gone Home, too early for us, perhaps, but at (hopefully) just the right time for him.
That life is an adventurous vacation, but that death is our home, from whence we venture, and that William, and William's angels, had cut his adventure short for some reason unfathomable to me. I suppose this is where faith plays a role.
I know I'm not alone on this message board in sharing your grief and shock.
Please email me your address at [email protected], and I'll send you some Montaigne and some Epictetus.
I'm so sorry.
David Baerwald
Shock
B
Baerwald
(view)
Dear Mike,
I'm so sorry. I wish I could give you some solace, but at times like these, words, however heartfelt and well-meaning, will never serve as an answer. My only hope is that you have someone close to you who can help you to get through this. While one can prepare oneself to a certain extent for one's own death, and can reach a degree of equanimity and even pleasurable anticipation for it, one cannot prepare oneself for the sudden death of others. One cannot, because if one does, then one closes oneself to the possibility of love.
When my friend Bill's seven year old son died last year, the only shred of meaning and hope I could dredge from the tragedy was that William had gone Home, too early for us, perhaps, but at (hopefully) just the right time for him.
That life is an adventurous vacation, but that death is our home, from whence we venture, and that William, and William's angels, had cut his adventure short for some reason unfathomable to me. I suppose this is where faith plays a role.
I know I'm not alone on this message board in sharing your grief and shock.
Please email me your address at [email protected], and I'll send you some Montaigne and some Epictetus.
I'm so sorry.
David Baerwald
I'm so sorry. I wish I could give you some solace, but at times like these, words, however heartfelt and well-meaning, will never serve as an answer. My only hope is that you have someone close to you who can help you to get through this. While one can prepare oneself to a certain extent for one's own death, and can reach a degree of equanimity and even pleasurable anticipation for it, one cannot prepare oneself for the sudden death of others. One cannot, because if one does, then one closes oneself to the possibility of love.
When my friend Bill's seven year old son died last year, the only shred of meaning and hope I could dredge from the tragedy was that William had gone Home, too early for us, perhaps, but at (hopefully) just the right time for him.
That life is an adventurous vacation, but that death is our home, from whence we venture, and that William, and William's angels, had cut his adventure short for some reason unfathomable to me. I suppose this is where faith plays a role.
I know I'm not alone on this message board in sharing your grief and shock.
Please email me your address at [email protected], and I'll send you some Montaigne and some Epictetus.
I'm so sorry.
David Baerwald
