This time last year a 20 year old male friend of my daughters died in tragic circumstances.
My daughter was telling me that a school re-union which she had attended recently, her friend was sorely missed and quite a few tears were shed once more at his absence.
A favourite song of her friend was played and my daughter told me that after the tears and hugs and conversation she wanted to enjoy the song, but it was not possible because one of her friends wanted to continue crying and hugging and reminiscing.
I was struck by how each individual deals with loss and separation differently.
The song being played had provoked a response in my daughter to be quiet, to listen and to reflect, whilst for another the song had provoked more tears, more need for conversation, more despair.
Of course, each response to a vehicle for memory, on this occasion a song played at a disco, is valid and right for the individuals involved.
The difficulty arises when there is a clash of approach to handling our grief and our memories and our respect and love for those whom we have loved and lost.
My daughter, put her arms around her friend and listened more to what she had to say. In that moment, she said, although I wanted to enjoy the song and be still, her need was greater for comfort and support.
I haven’t always being able to defer my own needs for those of another, but this empathy and groundedness displayed by my daughter towards her friend reminded me of what a beautiful gift it must be, to be able to respond from that place.
My next blog will be: Infinite Faith