I see you hurting and I want to rush to you and fix it.
Tears slowly drip – one by one.
The strain in your voice tries to hold it all in.
And I want nothing more to stroke your hair and shush you.
It’s gonna be alright.
It’ll be okay.
Where you are…
Where you are right now?
I know. Oh, I know.
And it hurts.
Oh, my how it hurts.
I’ve been there.
And – in some ways – I am still here.
(Is one ever in complete remission?)
My heart reaches out to yours.
And I hope, I pray that your heart can hear mine.
Because I want you to hear.
I want you to hear how powerful and brave you are.
And I want you to hear how loving and caring and kind you are.
(Those things can’t be counted with statistics or dollar signs,
but they are the things that really matter.)
And I want you to hear how you’ve changed me.
How your words and your actions have pulled me up when I was low.
I needed you.
I need you.
And you need me.
(And that’s as it should be.)
It’s my turn to be needed.
And it’s your time to just be.