Letters to Life

Letters to Death (1)

“Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live”
– Norman Cousins –

Dear Death,

This letter is not meant for you, so please pass it on to my niece I. Thanks in advance.

Dear I.,

This day last week we met for the first and the last time. Seeing your tiny body displayed in that little basket made my heart break and my mind kept telling me to look for signs of life. To watch for that little blanket moving up and down because of your breath, you sighing, opening your eyes or even moving your little arms and head.

But nothing moved. Except us. We moved around to watch you sleep eternally and we were moved by seeing such a little creature, someone who should have had a great and happy and prospering life, dead.

I had a lot of big plans for you, you know. You were to increase my chances of going on tons of roller coasters with a niece or nephew, for starters. You were to be the one that would rebel against everything and everyone (but me) and then we’d laugh about it together afterwards. I’d hold you as a baby and caress you and love you, despite whatever happened in the past between your mother and I.

You were to be part of our family, our dysfunctional group of idiots, and maybe be the only sane one. You and A. Would grow up together as two happy little girls, sharing secrets, clothes and two loving parents.

None of that will happen now. None of that was meant to happen. Your body was already broken beyond repair before you even got a chance to see your first sunlight. And even that chance was never given to you.

Dearest little I., at your goodbye ceremony I was given a small bit of paper and a pen, to scribble down a few words I wanted to say to you. I know exactly what I wrote down and I don’t think I’ll ever forget. But even though I meant every word, I had no idea what I really wanted to say. I do now:

My eyes keep filling with tears when I think back of that evening, the image of your body in that tiny basket is imprinted in my mind. But at least I have an image of you and I am proud to call you my niece. Maybe yours wasn’t a life meant to be lived, but even your brief momentum in our world has forever changed the hearts of a lot of people, including mine. I will carry you with me wherever I go, I promise. You will be with me on al my roller coaster rides to follow, every merry-go-round I’ll take A. on, and every time I see the flower that gave you your name I’ll remember you.

Your soul asked me not to be sad when I think of you and I’ll try my hardest to do that. But be patient, for I am not quite there yet.

Dear I., I’ll miss you, because I really wanted to get to know you. I hope that wherever you are, you are safe, happy and, above all, unbroken.


Your crazy aunt Samantha.

Letters to Life

Letters to Life (16)

“Sometimes no quote is needed”
– Random Paper Wisdom –

Dear Life,

Sometimes I just don’t know what to say. Even though I usually feel the need to speak, especially when I am talking to someone in distress or agony and I want to comfort them, there are moments when no words seem appropriate.

So I learned to be silent.

It’s better to say you don’t know what to say, than say something stupid. The latter is called sympathy, did you know that? It’s when somebody talks to you about what makes them upset, and you reply with a seemingly-comforting-but-actually-quite-rude-and-ignorant remark. Such as: “My mother is ill and I am scared she will die” – “Oh cheer up, I know so many women who’ve had cancer and they all survived.” (This was actually said to me when my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer).

Sometimes I don’t know what to write. I want to be positive and upbeat and inspiring, but lately everything I’ve wanted to do (homework, bake a cake, write on my blog) feels…. bland. Like it’s not “my thing” any more. I know that’s not true; it feels like that because I am grieving and everything’s covered in a layer of sadness. But I don’t want to overrun DD with my sorrow. I imagined this blog to be my bit of freedom and happiness.

I have no words to describe what’s been going on in my head. I’ve also got no words to describe my plans for the future. Right now I think I just need a little more time to get used to things, grieve, and move on. Find a way to deal with everything and recharge myself. I am sorry I cannot bring myself to be more positive right now.

Dear Life, even my random paper wisdom doesn’t know what to say. I take this as a sign from you that I need a break and settle my emotions.

Because when there is nothing left to say: don’t say anything. Just be there.



Have you ever been lost for words?
Heart to Post

Wednesday Wisdom-Tile

Right there in your face, weather! Now come and give us some better Spring weather!

Happy Wednesday everyone! 🙂

Heart to Post

Earworm Of The Week

Heard this one on the radio last week. Hasn’t left my brains since.

Have a good week, everyone! 🙂

Letters to Life

Letters to Life (15)

“I am not unstable, I am merely emotionally flexible”
– Random Paper Wisdom – (actual quote from Someecards)

Dear Life,

This week I visited a friend’s birthday party, the friend who hasn’t got that much time left to live. My emotions were all over the place; I was happy to see her again, especially in surroundings that did not include hospital beds, chemo therapy and lots of overall distress, but in my heart I knew it was the last time I’d see her, which made me intensely sad.

For some reason, I’ve always believed I needed to pick a side and stick to it: be negative or be positive, but whatever it is, be it all the time.

A person can’t be happy all the time, I see that now. Neither can we be unhappy all the time. And more importantly: I wouldn’t want to be either for the rest of you, Life. I’ve tried being unhappy for nine years straight and that didn’t do me any good. It’s unhealthy to not be able to see the good things in your surroundings and only ever believe all’s bad. That’s no way to live.

But the other side of the balancing scales isn’t so great, either. Imagine always being happy and vibrant: it would cost so much energy you’d be out of it before you know it. Completely burned out, like a match. Plus, if you refuse to see the bad tidings you sometimes bring, Life, you’re not really alive, despite whatever you tell yourself. Sticking your head in the sand can work for a little while, but reality is neither always bad nor always good. It just is.

Instead of choosing a side and staying there, I think I am just going to let that choice pass. I don’t want to be a drag but I don’t want to be unrealistic, either. I just want to be human, and that means embracing both of those sides of you, Life. The good and the bad (throw in one ugly and you got yourself a movie!).

And that was exactly what my friend’s birthday party was: good and bad. So so good to see her happy and loved, and so so bad to know it’s the last time I saw her. But in the end I am merely grateful. That I get to know her, that she enjoyed her party beyond limits and that you gave her enough time to celebrate her birthday. And that I was with good friends, who felt the same mixture of grief and happiness I did.

Good and bad, we can’t have the one without the other. Thank you for making me see that and helping me to appreciate you more, Life.



What’s your state of mind: are you an optimist or a pessimist? Or are you stuck somewhere in the middle, too?