Sunday, January 4, 2015

A note to my friends

It's occurring to me that I'm probably sending mixed messages to my friends.  Or maybe it's not that - maybe I'm actually sending the wrong message to my friends. 

Most of my friends have been amazing.  Take one of my college roommates, who has written me a message every single day since Lydie died.  She has not missed a day.  She just keeps telling me she's thinking about me and she loves me.

I usually don't respond.
And that's giving the wrong message.
Because I so appreciate her efforts.
I am grateful each and every time one of my friends checks in with me.

But I often find it hard to respond.
I just don't know what to say.

The phone rings and I feel paralyzed.  I don't pick up.
I don't know what to say.

She's still dead.  And I'm still struggling.
But I appreciate you thinking about us.

And in these friendships, I know I am take, take, taking right now.  I know friendships are all about give and take, and I am grateful for the friends who seem to innately understand that I have nothing to give right now.  The ones who are sticking with me through this hellhole, even though it is so freaking uncomfortable.  The ones who don't talk about God or a bigger plan but just continue to tell me they love me and they're there.

So friends, thank you for continuing to reach out even though I may not respond.  It means more to me than you'll ever know.

And by the way, I also really like when people comment on this blog.  It's so strange to talk to people and have no idea if they are following our story or not.

(And I just heard that my 12th grade English teacher is reading regularly.  She told my mom that I am a really good writer.  I'm like, "well, she taught me how to write!"  So thanks, Mrs. Fouser).


  1. I've been following you, Heather. Lurking. As a mom who has not had to endure the utter devastation of baby loss, I usually feel too guilty to comment. But we're out here, and thinking of you guys and Lydie as you cope.

  2. Mrs. Fouser was all empathy and big hugs. (Hi, Mrs. Fouser!) I think a lot of people are thinking about you regularly. They're just not sure what to say. (Hi Erin! Thank you!)

  3. Hi, Heather! As a regular reader, I am so proud of your writing skills...but especially fond of your outpouring of love for dear, sweet Lydia. She is beautiful and I am sure she is the twinking star I see nightly in this winter sky. Please hug yourself, Justin and Ben for me. Love you all, Mrs. Fouser

  4. Heather, we're here for you no matter what and don't expect anything in return. You've always been such a good friend throughout the years. We'll be by your side, even though there's no possible way we can understand what you're going through. We just send our love and positive thoughts each day, and wish we could do more to ease your suffering...

  5. I felt EXACTLY the same. Still do, often, because I frequently still go numb when it comes to Anna. Take, take, take. Some won't get it. Others will. Going by the whole "You get what you give" in life, for sure this feels terrifying. That the very people you're relying on to survive you fear you're turning off because you just can't do the polite societal norms. Sooo get it. But you know what? The people that stay and get it are the people you want. The ones looking for acknowledgement of their kindness and generosity and thoughtfulness…they may get all huffy but I promise…you'll find you don't have time for them in your mental space anyway. Grief and tragedy cut the fat in your social life real quick - and it's okay. Keeping things Real is how it goes now.
    Big hugs. Hang in. I agree with your aunt and uncle. It seems like your doing grief just fine. It's hell. But you're getting up every day, talking, processing, feeling, being with Lydia every way you can. There's nothing else needed.

  6. Heather,
    I continue to read your blog on a regular basis. I will be better about posting in it because I think it's important that you know that I'm thinking of you. (even though we've lost touch over all these years).

    Emily Sokolowski Gibbons


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