If your grief scares me I will let you know. 

Until then, if you so choose, I’ll listen as you tell me as much or as little as you want about your losses.

It makes no difference to me how much time has passed since your loss, your let-down, your crises. I know time passed makes little or no difference to your enduring pain even if you’re able at times to mask it.

So, bring it on. 

I’m listening. I’m reading. 

I will be as present for you as is humanly possible. I’ll listen to every word you say and listen for those you don’t say. I’ll read every sentence you’ve written and ask you to say more if there’s any hint of necessity to read between the lines. I’ll study what you present as though I’m preparing for an examination. 

When we talk or as you write please note I’d welcome a thorough tour of the love you enjoyed, the way it was when it

was at its very best. If it’s a spouse, friend, job at the crux of the loss you’ve endured, please, tell me too, about the good times. This will allow me to more fully appreciate what you’ve suffered. 

I know it’s tough to read (and it’s not easy to write, either) but if you lost a baby, a child (at any age), I want you to know I think I’m brave enough to hear you out. 

If it scares me, I’ll tell you. If it scares you, let me know, and we can leave it be, or…..whatever you decide. 

The invitation stands. 

WhatsApp, email, FaceTime…..if we’re in the same area, we can meet face-to-face, once, twice or more. 

It’ll always be your call.

I’m available. 

Bring it on.