Heartbreak and Kindness
I wrote this a little while ago, but never published it on Substack. Let’s fix that now. It seems fitting since we are close to the anniversary of my wife’s death 13 years ago.
Sometimes it sure feels like life is a cruel, cruel bitch. It’s ruthless. Relentless. You either die early or live long enough to see most people you love die without you being able to do a thing about it. And even if it doesn’t involve mortality, there’s plenty of other kinds of heartbreak sprinkled along the way.
It also doesn’t get easier over time. After enough tragedies, you may think you have built scar tissue to protect you, but it doesn’t work that way. Holding loved ones in your arms as they die is not something you get used to. Or, maybe some people do. I certainly don’t. Life has a way to find a raw nerve you didn’t even know you had.
Some people are luckier than others. Some people less so. But eventually it wrecks everyone.
In light of the brutality of it all, the only answer I have is to try to treat anyone I come across with as much kindness as I am capable of. Life is hard enough. There’s really no need to make it worse for anyone.
Of course, I fail in this at least as often as I succeed. When I see people not only being less than kind but intentionally dishing out misery on those they encounter, I find my own commitment to kindness wavering. I’m sure a better person than me would find a way to use gentleness to help them shift from pits of hatred and cynicism into more pleasant human beings. I struggle with that. But despite my failings, I find that in the face of life’s harshness, kindness is rarely a bad answer.
Obviously internet strangers are hardly in any position to understand the breadth of your loss, but I’m thankful you shared. I hope all is well, or as much as it can be.
I’m a hospice chaplain by vocation. Your pain is real. Grief is hard. Death is horrible. I like your conclusion here to be kind. The world could use a lot more of that to be sure. Let me encourage you (it’s my vocation after all) to look into your faith and find comfort in him who conquered death in order to bring an end to it. Forgive me if I have spoken out of turn. I appreciate your work and thank you for sharing this.