Charlie Brown

Over the course of my life, I have both experienced and borne witness to grief and depression. At times they visited separately, at others they’ve shown up together. Always, they were unbidden and unwelcome guests.

I’ve found them to be like a rock in my pocket, brown and smooth and shaped like a robin’s egg. I can forget the rock is there for days, weeks, even months at a time. But, inevitably, it asserts its presence at the most inopportune moments. Reaching into the folds of fabric for my car keys, I grab the rock instead and it transports me instantly to the pit of emptiness, where the walls are lined with the thick, wet moss of all the life I missed living. It is a cold place, but I am numb.

In this season of my life, I am seeing the familiar faces of grief and depression around me. Those I love who are dealing with the loss of what was, what could have been, and what may never be.

There is nothing I can do to take away the hurt, none of us can. What we can do is create and hold space for those who are hurting to feel seen, heard, and loved. That is how we push past the darkness and into the light.