Letter 51 – Compassion

Dear Garrett,

Tricia has said that the level of grief one experiences is dependent on the level of attachment you had with that person. I think for many people who haven’t experienced the grief of death, to hear about a death is a momentary shock. It might make them consider for a minute their own loved ones and imagine how terrible it would be to have something like that happen. And then, because it didn’t, they continue on with their lives, and for them everything goes back to their normal. But for us, those of us who have experienced this grief, the pause is longer. Maybe much longer.

Kevin says he’s changed forever. He is not the light-hearted being he once was. And that’s sad, but inevitable. I’m sorry that’s happened to him, but I hope that maybe he also has gained something. He tells me that he thinks of his family more now than he used to. The importance of it. He is closer with his sisters now than he has been for a long time.

I’ve read a lot of books where the authors say their compassion for others has grown through the grief experience. I don’t know if that’s true for me. Maybe I’m still in a state of self-protection that prevents me from feeling growth in compassion. What has increased is the awareness that everyone suffers. Everyone suffers to different degrees and often we have no idea of it.

Looking back, I feel that how I’ve been in relation to compassion has been something like, I hear you, I see you, and I will do something if I can. I saw you, Garrett. I heard you. And I wish I could have done more.

I’ve found that I care less about social niceties now than I did. I don’t feel compelled to greet every person I pass. I don’t feel compelled to ask someone how they are. I don’t feel compelled to make polite conversation.

What I know, that I still feel, for anyone, is – that I will see you if you need me to. I will listen to you if you need to be heard. And I will do something, if I can.