To be still when you rattle.

A good friend of mine’s mother passed away unexpectedly last month. I can’t say much about it other than it hurt her and all of her friends did our best to carry her grief for her. Said friend is a beacon of light for a lot of us, and absolutely for myself. If I need an honest opinion with a wealth of experience behind it, I call on her. That being said, she handled Death with a flaming sword. Her grace within the confines of grief was astounding.

She wrote something recently, borne of mourning, that is haunting me. It’s a simple truth that can’t be learned— true heart-knowledge—in any other way than by the trials of life.

“I think the reason you get married, or are in a partnership with another person is so when something really terrible or really wonderful happens, there is someone there to be your witness, to hold you and hear the story, and throw out all the kleenex you have cried into, to see your elation or see your pain, and say that matters, because it matters to me. To be still when you rattle.”