Real Hurt, Real Help

In some ways I feel as if I am not ready to write yet. The pain is still too raw and the hurt is still too real. But on the other hand, there are some things about this time that I don't want to forget.

Like all the Facebook "Likes," comments, and messages. All the hugs, sympathetic smiles, reassuring touches, and kind gestures. When I'm so far away from those I love in a time when we're all feeling the same pain, I've had to accept the sympathy of those who can't understand what I'm going through. Part of me wants to look with scorn into their eyes and tell them, "How can you tell be to be strong - you have no idea what I'm going through!" or "I know I'm not alone here - I'm surrounded by people who hardly know me and have barely started caring for me." But...what if instead I looked into their eyes and saw that they realize those things, but they are stepping out to show that they want help even if they don't know me well. What if I step out of my own perspective and see that when they reach out to hug me, they are trying to help me feel my family's arms reaching around the world to hold me?

It is never easy to comfort someone who is experiencing the loss of a loved one. There never seems to be anything to say. Advice seems pretentious, joking seems insensitive, and soothing words seem insufficient. And in a sense, that is true.

But I appreciate the wise words my friends have shared with me. "Seize the opportunity you have now to enjoy your time in Korea, let it distract you from the pain." "Be strong, Beth." "Don't stay in your room, get out in the sun, we love you!" "Talk with your Mom, you'll feel better!"

And laughing about funny things that my suitemates say is really not disrespectful. Smiling at the sun on my face and the colors in the leaves next to the colorful flowers along the road is a natural way to let joy soak into my sore heart.

Soothing words, well, they are insufficient. No words will ever be enough. But being so far away, words are the only things I have to share with my loved ones. Pictures, memories, stories, feelings, all seem somewhat hollow when shared over chat or Skype, but take it from the one on the other end - these insufficient words are far, far better than no words!

And finally, small gestures, even when you don't realize what you're doing, can mean the world. I have received so many messages from friends, some who I've just met or hardly talked to in the years I've known. I know it couldn't have been easy for them to write to me, but they showed me that I wasn't forgotten, and that my friends were willing to step out of their comfort zones for me. And what about the kind employee at the University bookstore? He sees countless confused students every day, and then I come in and I can't even talk to him. But instead of treating me like another (inconvenient) number, he kindly showed me where to find my book and then wrote down the price for me because he knew I wouldn't really understand it if he just said it. And the countless hours my wonderful man sat in front of his laptop, reading angry, confused, distressed, bitter, crazy, and desperate messages assuring me that he wanted to hear about my emotions even if he had to response and reassuring me that it was ok to cry - he would be strong for me when I couldn't be strong anymore.

In this time of indescribable pain, I have encountered immeasurable love, support, and even beauty. Although I wish I could have been with my Grandpa when he passed, and I wish I could be there now with my family, to comfort and love them, I know that is not the whole picture. I am seeing, experiencing, and learning things here that I will be able to carry with me for the rest of my life. Even through the hurt and tears.