Finding the words

I had sincere hope that Calee and I would be celebrating together this week. Instead, we find ourlselves comforting one another.... as much as one can comfort someone else in this situation.

I would think that going through the same thing would make knowing what to say to another who is suffering much easier. I thought that words of wisdom and encouragement would come naturally. I mean, when our mothers deal with test results and our minds wander again to the threat of cancer, we know what to say to one another. When contracts on first homes fall through, we know what to say. When we doubt ourselves, our career paths, our general abilities in life, even when we need to be uplifted about something as simple as they way we look, Calee and I always know what to say to each other. I hope that, like me, at least she finds reassurance in the fact that I am here: I may not have a damn clue what to say, but I am here.

This is so different from everything -- from anything we've had to endure. When someone passes away, you know that at least there is peace and an end to suffering. Though this is my very first month of this particularly tortuous cycle of hope and disappointment, I imagine that there isn't a lot of peace on the other end. At least I can say now that I know. I can sleep knowing. And that might be its own little sick version of peace. But I don't know how to deal with this "death" every month. There's no funeral where we can go and listen to comforting verses and rest in the knowledge that time will heal. I am positive that time will not heal this ache. I certainly have no idea what to say to the other mourners.