|(Anna) Equally precious….|
|(Cate) ….Agonizingly different|
So I just have to bring attention to this, because it feels significant. Maybe to no one but me, but...
The emails I have received from my announcement that the website is back up and running have fallen into two distinct groups. Most people like the zoo entry. Then there are those who have commented on, and only on, “It’s the little things” post which refers to a certain section of Target. These are all women who’ve had a child die.
Interesting, don’t you think? It just speaks to me about what people can relate to, what turns them on, and what things...don’t. Or can’t.
The responses from BLMs were emotional, so very genuinely happy for me, and yet full of pain at the same time. All said they cried as they read it and I could feel the experiential recognition in their words. One woman who also suffered infertility said she hadn’t set foot in Target since her daughter died.
This morning I was thinking that I need to edit that post. I started it by referring only to women who’ve lost a child. I changed it a day or so later to people who’ve had infertility OR lost a child. Today I realized I need to include everyone whose suffered. Which is to say, everyone. (If they haven’t yet, they will. Life is like that.) The world is a mine field to most for one reason or another. Those whose mother has died is constantly and often unexpectedly reminded of the loss when talking to others whose mothers live, when passing the women’s clothing section (particularly the styles representing the age they were when they died or would be now), when Mother’s Day comes around, every holiday and every significant family event from which they are absent. A woman whose son died this summer is affected by all the back-to-school hullabaloo. Those whom have lost limbs or senses are constantly reminded of the things others can do that they can’t. Those who have moved for whatever reason and left families behind, those who want to be one half of a loving couple but can’t find the partner to fill the other half, those who want a home or simple vacation but can’t afford one, and on and on it goes.
Everyone’s struggle or loss is significant. At the very least significant to them. The world is largely insensitive and cruel to such losses. It’s only Us that can help us, save us. Only through loss or struggle does Humanity have meaning. It’s what has sown my humanity, anyway.