Paint-spattered Being

What’s the right thing to say when something really horrible happens to a friend?  I mean really horrible, awful, life-changing stuff?  My first gut-instinct-thing was to say “No way – you’re kidding.”  Luckily I caught myself because that would have been really, really, really bad!   I wanted to make it better and say “It’ll be okay.”  But it won’t – so not only would saying that not make it better, it would make it worse.  I wanted to say “That sucks,” but we’re not supposed to say that at school.  Anyway, we say it all the time about everything.  And this was way bigger than everyday stuff, so saying that would have made it smaller somehow – which it wasn’t.

All of this went through my brain in about .04 seconds and left me with nothing.  Zilch.  Nada.  I just stood there with my mouth hanging open.  I’m surprised I didn’t start to drool.  ‘Penny has left the building-ing-ng-g.’

“Wow.”  That’s what my tongue did.   Slow, astounding, brain-not-functioning – “Wow.”  We sat down on the sidewalk and leaned against the brick under the classroom windows.  We just sat there – legs stretched out in front of us, sun soaking through our jeans.  My purple shoe-laces sparkled.  Brandi caught the ball and nailed Julie’s square – right in the corner.  Kyle and his crew yelled as the basketball clanged against the metal net.  Julie’s hair flung out as she spun around the bar – dead man’s drop.  The globe didn’t stop on its axis.  The ground stayed solid and unmoving.  But that earth-shattering news covered us like a paint-spattered drop-cloth – making all that everyday stuff so far away.  There were little drops of what I knew: fire-engine red from career day, sky-blue from the nature mural, bright yellow from Macy’s birthday banner.  But just like now – sitting in the presence of the crushing news, they had no connection, no meaning. 

And I didn’t know the right thing to say.

So we just sat – side by side – in the sun.

We watched the little kids play tag.  We watched our friends goof around.  We watched the teachers watching everybody.  We watched and waited.

It didn’t get better, but it changed.

Maybe friends don’t have to say anything.  Maybe we just have to sit together and wait until the paint-spatters become something else.  Maybe just being willing to let the really horrible, awful, life-changing stuff be really horrible, awful, life-changing stuff and not making it into something else is okay.  Maybe words are over-rated.  Maybe sometimes just being instead of doing is what’s right.