Yesterday was the one month anniversary of the day Bryan drove away and never came home. We had a birthday party planned last night and we invited Summer to come along. She knew a quite a few people but didn’t know many of them well. With grace and a smile she joined with the quiet weight of grief.
I stayed near her through the night but many times parted off into other conversations while she chatted with others. I would still keep my ear open though to be sure all was well, but for the most part I felt an ease being amongst friends with my fragile sister.
There was a time in my life where someone encouraged us to move so that we could meet new friends that would push us and expand us in new and interesting ways. I thought little of the comment at the time but the older I get the happier I am that we didn’t take that advice. The people who have been with us through the mundane, the joy and even the tragedy. They matter more and form us and support us more than anyone new could. And so at this party we were at we were surrounded by of those people lifelong friends.
I found throughout the night as we moved from person to person a sense of relief each time. I kept thinking, oh well Keri is a good person to talk to because she just lost her dad. Or I would think Jen is great because she knows years of infertility and accepting life’s new path. Or Heather knows what brokenness is like she’s a good one to talk to. And on and on. With every single person I thought this. Summer was in conversation all night with people who love her, are praying for her and have the kind of empathy that only the knowledge of pain can offer.
At the end of the night I felt really proud of my friends. Proud that I could bring my sister who was in so much pain and see her loved well by everyone. Comforted by others who are broken-hearted. I didn’t feel proud because they’re cool or interesting (although they are) I felt proud because they’re broken-hearted. There was relief being in the midst of those who know pain and who have been loved well and now love others well in the midst of it. There was peace in friends who didn’t shy away from the black hole of grief but approached it with wisdom and empathy.
As I grow and live more life I think more and more that there’s a good chance that this kind of love and mutual brokenness is the entire point of community and that community is damn well near the point of the church and maybe even the actual point of life.