My deepest sympathies.
Everyone has a gift. Or two or three. Mine is empathy. When I was four, there was an old woman who lived around the corner, and I'd go to her house and sit with her for hours, talking, eating her homemade cookies. She made cookies for all the kids in the neighborhood. She was our surrogate grandma. I remember when her forty-something daughter started coming over and spending a lot of time. I remember when she stopped getting out of bed. I remember seeing the new pills she had to take. And I remember the Saturday I went to visit and her forty-something daughter let me in, got me a glass of milk, and sat me down to explain why her pill box still had pills in Thursday and Friday. She had died in her sleep. I sat quietly in her daughter's lap and gave her lots of hugs. Then I went home and cried upstairs next to my Barbie townhouse. I felt the pain.
As I was growing up, my father used to watch a lot of National Geographic. Every time a rabbit would be caught by the fox, I'd cry. I hated seing animals die. I hated seing anything die. I felt the pain.
When I was in Pittsburgh, there was a new girl at my job who had moved from Nashville with her best friend, a guy. They were so close. He died the day after Thanksgiving. It was completely unexpected. She held herself together so well, but I could feel the pain. It was exuding from her aura. It broke my heart. I went across the street and bought her a big bear and a card, and I wrote: "Hit him when you're angry. Hug him when you're lonely. And call me if you need anything at all." I felt her pain - and I don't want to trivialize all she must have felt, but - almost as much as she did. That formed a friendship. She later told me that she had received a new bear whenever something major happened in her life, including the death of her mother a few years before. I felt the pain.
And all these stories are just to try and illustrate that I've always been in touch with my own emotions, as well as other people's emotions. And when you hurt, I hurt. I really fucking feel it down deep. And I felt that twinge of pain in my heart, and that lump in my throat, and my stomach begin to drop this morning when I turned on the television.
For the family of the crew of the Columbia, I am sorry for your loss. I feel your pain. My prayers will be with you tonight.
Everyone has a gift. Or two or three. Mine is empathy. When I was four, there was an old woman who lived around the corner, and I'd go to her house and sit with her for hours, talking, eating her homemade cookies. She made cookies for all the kids in the neighborhood. She was our surrogate grandma. I remember when her forty-something daughter started coming over and spending a lot of time. I remember when she stopped getting out of bed. I remember seeing the new pills she had to take. And I remember the Saturday I went to visit and her forty-something daughter let me in, got me a glass of milk, and sat me down to explain why her pill box still had pills in Thursday and Friday. She had died in her sleep. I sat quietly in her daughter's lap and gave her lots of hugs. Then I went home and cried upstairs next to my Barbie townhouse. I felt the pain.
As I was growing up, my father used to watch a lot of National Geographic. Every time a rabbit would be caught by the fox, I'd cry. I hated seing animals die. I hated seing anything die. I felt the pain.
When I was in Pittsburgh, there was a new girl at my job who had moved from Nashville with her best friend, a guy. They were so close. He died the day after Thanksgiving. It was completely unexpected. She held herself together so well, but I could feel the pain. It was exuding from her aura. It broke my heart. I went across the street and bought her a big bear and a card, and I wrote: "Hit him when you're angry. Hug him when you're lonely. And call me if you need anything at all." I felt her pain - and I don't want to trivialize all she must have felt, but - almost as much as she did. That formed a friendship. She later told me that she had received a new bear whenever something major happened in her life, including the death of her mother a few years before. I felt the pain.
And all these stories are just to try and illustrate that I've always been in touch with my own emotions, as well as other people's emotions. And when you hurt, I hurt. I really fucking feel it down deep. And I felt that twinge of pain in my heart, and that lump in my throat, and my stomach begin to drop this morning when I turned on the television.
For the family of the crew of the Columbia, I am sorry for your loss. I feel your pain. My prayers will be with you tonight.
posted by Heather at 10:55 AM
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