I am currently reading Ann Weisgarber's novel, The Promise. It is an historical novel taking place in Galveston, TX in the year 1900, the year of the Great Storm that destroyed most of the island. It is a story about a woman who leaves her home in Ohio for Galveston, not under ideal circumstances, to marry a man from her past whose wife has passed away from Malaria leaving him to care for their 5 year old son. In the novel, a woman named Nan Ogden keeps the home of the widower and looks after him and the boy. Much of the story surrounds the tense relationship between the protagonist and Miss Ogden. Their relationship is strained and unfriendly, but complex in that each of them understands the heart of the other woman and takes measures to uphold the dignity of the other more than once.
At one point in the novel, the protagonist realizes that Nan Ogden has desires in her heart that cannot be obtained. She recognizes the suffering in the other woman's eyes and begins to speak to assuage her pain. However, Miss Ogden interrupts cutting her off. It is then, that the protagonists understands, "Some things cannot bear the weight of words."
This line struck me as being such an obvious truth yet one that few people recognize. During our struggle to have a child, I often remarked on the words people would say and their "helpful" ways of speaking to try to fix pain that nothing could heal but time. One of the most important lessons I learned throughout our ordeal was that when someone is suffering, the best way to help them is to listen rather than speak. Words, so often, not only fall short, but end up rubbing the proverbial salt in an open and tender wound. I have learned to speak little in those instances that someone comes to me to talk about their pain.
It is often that I find myself struggling for words to write in a sympathy note when someone I know has lost a loved one. Especially after going suffering losses of my own, words never seem sufficient as I know that they will not only do no good, but could also have the potential to do more harm. I like Weisgarber's wisely and simply constructed statement that some things simply cannot bear the weight of words. It says, I understand. I am sorry. And I give you permission to feel your pain.
