Promise Me

That voice inside of you. Maybe today it's quiet. Maybe today it's louder than it's ever been before. It's telling you that you can't do this. Everything is different now. You can't possibly exist in this strange place.

I imagine that the pain you're feeling must be palpable in the space around you. This heaviness, there isn't a name for it. No word, no language could possibly capture the gravity of what is inside of you. It's black and full and takes up the space between your ribs so that even one breath becomes a small victory. I can't pretend to know what that must feel like. I hope I never have to.

Death never comes when we're ready for it. There's always more life to be lived.

All at once you've lost your best friend, your partner, your lover. He knew you in ways that can't be described and in ways none of us could ever understand. I hope you cry. I hope you scream. I hope you say words you've never dared to say out loud before. I hope you listen to sad songs and have too many glasses of wine. I hope you get angry and feel sorry for yourself. I hope you feel everything there is inside of you to feel. You should. You're owed that. And so much more. But I hope you never give in to that voice.

You can do this. You will do this. Because you have three boys that need you to show them how to become men. They need you to show them how precious this life is. How short it is. How it can burn you and break you. And yet time and time again you heal. It's a test you weren't ready for, you didn't ask for, you aren't prepared to take. But you will surprise yourself.

I won't pretend that this is fair. I don't understand it and you don't deserve it. No one should have to feel the pain you feel now. But promise me, even on the darkest nights that are surely ahead of you, promise me that you won't listen to that voice saying that you can't. You can. There's always more life to be lived.

If you're interested in ways to support the Woeber family, you can do so here.