They never walked in them.
They’d been given to me by a dear, lifelong friend, in anticipation of the girls’ summer arrival. And for the past seven years, they’ve sat tucked away in a keepsake box filled with small pink blankets, flowered and plaid dresses, and onesies.
This fact—at one point in time—tore me apart, and those around me just did not know what to say, which meant that when I really, really needed to talk, there weren’t many folks who felt qualified to be at the other end of the conversation.
And I learned: When you have no words, just say so. It’s okay.
Or pause, and find them. Acting like a tragedy hasn’t happened is the worst tragedy of all: you’re denying yourself an opportunity for connection. And isn’t that why we’re here? To touch, to relate, to love, to aid, to encourage?
I write this because I recently came across a beautiful website that specializes in finding the right words to express to a loved one who’s suffered the loss of a child, endured a stillbirth, or battles with infertility. It’s called Lost for Words.
Both co-creators have faced losses of their own, and out of their grief came a place others could go to for support … and for words. I love this spot on the web so much that I’m adding their link to this little light’s Grief Resources page.
If you know someone who might find solace in the resources listed there, please share the link. And the words.
Linking up today to Casey Leigh at