A slow hurt- and it breaks us
Joe was gone and Savannah had been told she was in charge of the Children's Office. After a bit of a panic attack she had jumped right in and taken over. That was what a person did, after all. You pulled yourself together and went on. Tim had helped her through the worst of her depression back home and Peter had helped her here. She had had the naive notion that losing Peter would be the worst thing that might happen to her here. She'd thought that the first sting of loss would pass and she'd never hurt that badly again. Oh, how wrong she had been. Joe was her friend and would be grandfather to the baby she carried. Family. The very idea of losing family struck her hard and she'd cried all night. The next morning she had pulled herself together and had forged on but she felt as fragile as could be.
Savannah had so many feelings and she didn't know how to make sense of them. Once again, as she did nearly every day, she longed for John to be with her to hold her. She longed for Tim to be her strength as he'd been since she was twelve. Having neither of them she turned to the one thing she knew would help her release the burden of mourning.
Dear Joe,
For a long time that was all she had. She sat in the rec room with a few sheets of paper and a pen in hand. She wanted to say everything and knew that he'd never get the letter. She'd put it in his mailbox where she knew it would sit until someone in the office took the letter and disposed of it and reassigned the box. But this was for her and for the baby and for the future more than it was for Joe. She stared at those two words until her eyes stung and tears began to slowly spill down her cheeks.
Dear Joe, she read, over an over again, and then it was as if a dam broke inside her and she began to write. Her pen flew across the paper, the words all tumbling out so fast that her fingers could barely keep up with her thoughts. Pages and pages, and then her hand was cramping when she wrote the final words.
I want to reassure you, and myself, that everything will be all right here. I'll see to it your work goes on for I know that is what you would want. I have no idea where you are out there in the world, Joe. But no matter how many years go by, I know one thing to be true - I'll see you soon then.
Love, Savannah
She didn't try to hide her words or her tears. She couldn't. And she knew she was far from the only one who had lost someone special here, but that made it no easier. No easier to accept the work that would go on for it must be done and no easier to accept that the family she was helping to start had lost one important part.
[Feel free to read any of her letter, it's long but in neat script and she's just spilling all the feelings. And, of course, she's crying and not hiding that either. It's tag someone new week so I'd love anyone from the building crew, the children's office (workers or parents) or anyone she hasn't met yet even though she's not in the best state.]
Savannah had so many feelings and she didn't know how to make sense of them. Once again, as she did nearly every day, she longed for John to be with her to hold her. She longed for Tim to be her strength as he'd been since she was twelve. Having neither of them she turned to the one thing she knew would help her release the burden of mourning.
Dear Joe,
For a long time that was all she had. She sat in the rec room with a few sheets of paper and a pen in hand. She wanted to say everything and knew that he'd never get the letter. She'd put it in his mailbox where she knew it would sit until someone in the office took the letter and disposed of it and reassigned the box. But this was for her and for the baby and for the future more than it was for Joe. She stared at those two words until her eyes stung and tears began to slowly spill down her cheeks.
Dear Joe, she read, over an over again, and then it was as if a dam broke inside her and she began to write. Her pen flew across the paper, the words all tumbling out so fast that her fingers could barely keep up with her thoughts. Pages and pages, and then her hand was cramping when she wrote the final words.
I want to reassure you, and myself, that everything will be all right here. I'll see to it your work goes on for I know that is what you would want. I have no idea where you are out there in the world, Joe. But no matter how many years go by, I know one thing to be true - I'll see you soon then.
Love, Savannah
She didn't try to hide her words or her tears. She couldn't. And she knew she was far from the only one who had lost someone special here, but that made it no easier. No easier to accept the work that would go on for it must be done and no easier to accept that the family she was helping to start had lost one important part.
[Feel free to read any of her letter, it's long but in neat script and she's just spilling all the feelings. And, of course, she's crying and not hiding that either. It's tag someone new week so I'd love anyone from the building crew, the children's office (workers or parents) or anyone she hasn't met yet even though she's not in the best state.]