After the pain comes the breakthrough. They tell me with a smile which maybe doesn't reach their eyes. The nod of a head. It's coming. It's coming. Breakthrough. It will all be worth it.
Their words a platitude to something not understood. Not misunderstood but brutally not understood at all.
Words not quite empty but without compassion. Empathy on vacation.
Naivety grates. Nails on a blackboard. My spine shivers.
I used to try & make sense of it.
Ill go through it to help others my mind reasoned. Only eyes washed by tears can see clearly.
True thoughts. Accurate. Prophetic. Positive. Pushing through here to get to there. There is help for others when you experience something & come out the other side.
Then the sitting began. When sense was no longer agile enough to whip pain into shape.
Until sense was no longer sensical. Just exhausting.
Sometimes there are no words.
Pain erodes them all. Well meaning epilogues fall into a shuck.
And when there's nothing to say, say nothing. Even say 'I don't know what to say.' Just don't hide the insecurity of not knowing in a catchphrase.
Instead a hug or a hand on the shoulder. Or the words ' I have no idea what's going on, but I'm here' these are perhaps what are needed most.
Not explanations and promises of breakthrough. Or suggestions however well meaning that 'it always gets more painful before it gets better.'
Sometimes breakthrough comes. Sometimes it's elusive.
Attempts at explanations are unnecessary. Unwanted.
Nor questions needed especially before major surgery asking 'what is God trying to teach you.'
Touch the person. Sit with them. Don't promise. Just be.