What can I say?

How is it that I have nothing to offer?

Are we built to forget the experiences of pain?

It was only two and a half years ago that I too, came home after holding my new daughter as she died. I know the horror of the nursery set up. The mockery of a mobile, swinging and playing tunes. The unbareable ache of empty arms, longing for a burden ever so light.

I know these things. I KNOW these things.

But when I look at someone else IN these things....... I have nothing.......

I want to warn them, to let them know that it will likely get much worse before it begins to get even a tiny bit better. But I know no-one wants to know this.

I want to let them know that they are not alone... while knowing, when it comes down to it.... we are all terribly alone in our greif.

I want to let them know that they will survive it, while knowing that their may well be a part of them that does not want to survive it. Because sometimes death has such beauty, and holds something so dear, it does not seem an enemy.

I am left a floundering fool - like the others whom I looked at with disdain - because I have nothing to say except those tired tired words that have well and truley crumpled under the weight we expect them to carry "I'm sorry". How can that give anything? Like this post, it is about me, not them.

But I am sorry.

Little Silas I am so very sad.