The Hurting Hurt More Than One Day a Year
Tonight, I took a nighttime walk and listened to a calming cd and multiple thoughts of blessing flashed into my memory.
I am so blessed. Beyond blessed.
Yet, it saddens me to know others are not as blessed as me.
This is a hard week for many people, suicide awareness was earlier in the week and 9/11 was today. I saw Facebook blow up for both of these special days, many saying we will never forget.
But do we really remember the hurting on the other 364 days a year?
I’ve often been told by the grieving that they feel the love and support shortly after experiencing a loss, but then are only thought of on the anniversary of the tragedy. And that always crushes me.
How easily I look past the hurting without knowing they are hurting.
I walk by people on the street, empty handed, not realizing they wish to have a hand to hold.
I smile at a couple in the park, arms empty, not realizing they would do anything to have a bundle of joy to hold.
I talk to friends on the phone, lives void, not realizing their flame has been out for ages.
We often to late see the writing on the wall like graffiti on the subways and wonder when it was painted. When sadly, we stood by and watched our love ones spray their hurt with their two hands.
We just sadly oblivious because our lives took the stage light. And everyone else was shadowed in the background. We all fall into the leading role in our lives and everyone else plays second fiddle.
May we try harder. Open our eyes more. Share laughs and life with everyone that holds a special place in our heart. May we remember always. Acknowledge more often. Give of our selves daily.
May you reach out to your brother. May you call your sister. May you text your friend. May you invite your neighbor.
May we each spread little acts of kindness like a virus. A virus which needs no cure.
We are all incredibly blessed. Most of the times we need one other to show us the goodness of ourselves.
Then love. Share. Repeat.
Peace and love to all.
