1 April 2003
Dear Monahans
I’ve been reconfiguring this letter for a week, trying to come up with the magical words to make all the pain go away. I figure if I let the idea sit long enough, eventually my mind will formulate some order of words that no one else has said yet and would cure anything weighing on your hearts. Once I admitted that this is what I was doing, I realized there is nothing I can say or do to make this event any less tragic. So instead this is my humble attempt to show you how much your communities love and support you right now and always.
Last year I lost a friend I’d met in the hospital, Ryan, to lymphoma. I remember the shock and the pain. I remember feeling like there was a hole in my chest and if I screamed loud enough it might be filled. I tried to wrap my mind around the thought of losing a sibling, or a child. I simply cannot. Since that time I’ve contemplated about death a lot, including the possibility of my own.
The news of Mike’s death has only begun to set in for me. It still just doesn’t make any sense—rationally or spiritually. This shouldn’t have happened; parents should never have to bury their children. He was healthy and this isn’t fair. Period. I wish the fact that I feel this could make it our realities. I still feel that way about Ryan.
I don’t know exactly how to put onto paper what I’ve learned from my experiences with facing mortality this past year. All that emotion is so human, mortal. I believe death is greater than that. I think it transcends all the anger and hurt and is actually a miracle. I’ve begun to see death as a gift of freedom and peace, for me personally. This is what I learned from Ryan. She taught me that death obviously has nothing to do with how good you are on Earth or who “deserves” it more. She taught me that it might just be a spectacular journey greater than any gift life has to offer. Frankly it sucks for the rest of the world left behind, because Mike was such a gift. That’s the first thing you said to me, Kathy, when I saw you that day: that his life was a gift. It broke my heart and filled me with hope to hear you say that. His life touched so many people and his 16 years with us are irreplaceable and wonderful and a gift from God. In addition, I believe Mike is being welcomed into whatever death has to offer with love and peace.
I’m so sorry for your loss. I pray hard for you and your family and I know I’m not the only one. I want to support you in whatever ways I can, but I’m not sure how. I hesitate to say I admire the way your family has been handling this loss because that would imply there is a good or a bad way to deal with it. But I know that you have helped your surrounding communities cope at least as much as they’ve been trying to help you. May God fill you with strength and emotion so that you can heal just a little each day and continue to enjoy the gifts of life. I just love and care about you all so much.
God Bless,
Carrie Shepard