Deep sigh

That first day, down at mom's (and dad's), I called work to let them know what had happened and that I would be away from work for a few days. My boss completely understood, and seemed really shocked. He felt pain for me, and it made me feel like I had support out there. Subtle, but good.

Well, my boss, Bill, emailed the entire store at which I work, and let all my co-workers know. It was a very simple, sensitive email, and it caused several co-workers to call me and text message me, to provide more support. I'd like to share those here, because they meant a lot to me. They were a really big part of that day.



1:17 PM, Leslie: "I'm very sorry to hear about your Dad. You & your family are in my thoughts & prayers. -Leslie"

Erin: "Hi. Um... J just got the word--found out... um... just, J just wanna let you know that I'm here for you and everyone is okay and... If any of you guys need anything just let me know or you need me to talk, to just let me know. You can call me--I'm at work, though--but I guess I'll try and call back later. I'll talk to you later. Okay. I love you guys. Okay, bye."

1:46, Steve: "Max I am so very sorry. My thoughts are with you - if there is anything I can do pleae ask. I mean that. -Steve"

2:18, Ryan: "I love you, dude. I am here 4 u if u wanna talk."

3:13, Shawn: "Really sorry. Let me know if you need anything. Shawn"

Jesse: "Hey man. Um... Shawn called me from your work said you might be going through some crazy stuff right now... um, yeah, dude. If you need anything--you need to talk--anyone, anything... Anything, man. Just, um, call me, man. Anything you need man... I'm sorry, man. Thats gotta be horrible. Later, man."

Jacob: "Hey Max, uh, Jesse just told me what, uh, what happened and I just wanna say, if you need anything, you can call me or just wanna talk or whatever and uh, I'm so sorry."

7:04, Toby: "Max I love you buddy. Let me know if there's anything I can do for you."

11:36, David: "Max, I just heard. Give me a call if you want to talk. Jonelle and I, and all of the rest of us, are here for you."

1:17 PM, Morgan: "I'm sending you guys all my energy. Love, Morgan"

Stacey: "Hi, this is Stacey. Um... I was just calling to find out how you're doing, and if there was anything we could do, um, I hope you know that we're there for you and we're thinking about you... Everybody at work is. Um, I don't know what to say, you know... how that is, I'm sure. Um, but just please know that we're thinking of you and if you wanna talk or anything, please give us a call--but otherwise don't feel like you have to be in any hurry to return this call. I just wanted to check in with you. Okay, take care. Bye."

David: "Hey, Max. This is David. I just wanted to get in touch with you and see how you and your family are holding up, and, uh, I want you to know that Jonelle and I are here for you if you need anything just please let us know. Um, I hope to hear from you soon."

7:48 PM, Katie: "Whatever r souls r made of, urs & mine r the same. -Charlotte Bronte-"



When I type all this out--transcribe the voice mails, especially--I'm struck by how language fails us during these extreme times. Each of my friends were filled with sadness and concern and confusion. They were overwhelmed. And they wanted to express that--wanted to pour that brimful of emotion into me, in the form of love. But the only tools they had were words (and of course tone of voice, which often said much more). The words meant relatively little, because I knew what they were attempting. What they said wasn't so important, and what I heard wasn't so important. It was the desire to embrace your loved ones when you see them hurt. That was what I got. And it felt sad and kind and amazing. I'm so deeply thankful for that love.

There's another thing going on in those messages that I felt for my own family. Something somewhat more selfish (though certainly not negative). There's a degree of fear we have when this happens. Fear, because we have no control over these great things. We have only a tiny glimpse of what actually just happened. So, we move closer to those who have gone through the same thing. They wanted to do something with their own fear. And that may sound like a bad thing, but it's very human, and so it's very comforting. When my friends drew closer to me, I drew closer to them.

The same thing happened when my sister and her family came into town. I had been away from mom for a few days, and I wasn't feeling sad, necessarily (though I was from time to time, certainly), but, instead, I was feeling... kinked up. Uncomfortable. Like too many thoughts were trying to express themselves, and they were all getting caught. Like my brain and heart was just misfiring a lot. I felt crabby and useless. But when I saw Clea and Tony and Sophie, and saw mom again, and we all spent time around each other, things in my brain unbent. I calmed, and felt peace. The only place where things felt right was very close to my family--because they were the only other ones who had gone through the same thing. Like a support group--although we didn't talk all that much about what had happened. We didn't need to.

Out in the real world, when the whole world wasn't as broken as I was--and as consoling as my friends were--I was almost confused. Didn't everyone I passed on the street somehow know that my dad had died? Shouldn't the street be softer for a while--shouldn't life be easier on me for a while? It was a strange sensation. And it was only when we pulled together that I felt okay.

Things are much better now, certainly. I'm still sad when I think about how much he deserves to still be alive, and healthy and happy. But I'm okay. We are all fairly normal again. It required all that love. All those messages. All that love.