To Leah
I Am Sorry I Was Afraid to Visit
I told myself I would visit when you felt better.
The truth is that I was afraid. I did not know what to say. I did not want to see the illness change you. I kept waiting for a less frightening moment, as if time had promised me one.
Then there was no more time.
I have carried shame about that for years.
You deserved a friend who could sit beside the bed without fixing anything. You deserved someone who understood that awkward presence would have been better than absence.
I am sorry.
I cannot return to that room. I can only let what I learned change how I show up now. When people I love are hurting, I go. I bring coffee. I sit. I stop waiting for perfect words.
I wish I had learned that while you were still here.
The truth is that I was afraid. I did not know what to say. I did not want to see the illness change you. I kept waiting for a less frightening moment, as if time had promised me one.
Then there was no more time.
I have carried shame about that for years.
You deserved a friend who could sit beside the bed without fixing anything. You deserved someone who understood that awkward presence would have been better than absence.
I am sorry.
I cannot return to that room. I can only let what I learned change how I show up now. When people I love are hurting, I go. I bring coffee. I sit. I stop waiting for perfect words.
I wish I had learned that while you were still here.
