It may make you crazy to be able to look around at everyone you know closely in your life and realize that they have a memory, even if only one, of that person that you lost and yet you have none. It will seem unfair, because it is unfair. You should have gotten to know your mom or dad. It sucks. In absolutely every way. And I’m hurting for you thinking about those moments that you will live because they are hard and so many people around you will not understand that.
You lost someone invaluable and you don’t even know them. But you also lost them in such a public way. And the entire world knows about it and will talk about it. So many people will come up alongside you telling you that they understand and that they know, but they don’t. It doesn’t get easier hearing people talk about your tragedy, but somehow you learn how to manage it more. There will be times when you cannot escape it-your personal tragedy all over the news once again. And so many people will identify you with the horrors that happened to your family on this day. But this is not who you are. A terrible thing happened to you fourteen years ago, but it is not who you are. You are not 9/11. You are not the death of your mom or dad. You are you. So when people look at you and only see your story, remember that I see you. I know. There is more to you than that.
Yes, you are not your story, but it will shape the person that you are. And you are given an opportunity to choose the impact that it will have in your life. You are in a unique position to understand something so raw and real about life at such a young age that other people may never understand. It may be extremely hard, but you can turn something so horrible into something good. You can use your pain and your position of mourning the loss of someone you never got to know to help others in their struggles. You can simply choose to be happy, to feel joy, when the reality of what happened that day catches up with you and threatens to take that from you-and although I say simply, that is not a simple thing to do. But when you choose joy, you choose victory. And I pray you will be victorious over your pain.
I’m mostly writing this letter because I just want you to know that I understand.
I understand the loss that you are facing in ways that your mom or dad, even other brothers or sisters may not be able to understand because they do remember that person. I want you to know that I know what it feels like when that anniversary comes around each year and you know it’s a big deal but at the same time you don’t even know what to feel. I just want you to know that I see you and your unique pain, that I have walked the road that you are walking. I am walking it still. Sometimes you just need to know that someone else gets it, that someone else has gone before you. And I do, I have. You’re not alone in this. At times it may feel that way, but it’s not true. I’m here for you. I pray you find the courage to be uniquely you and to feel whatever it is you need to feel.
And again, just so you’ll remember-you’re not alone in this.
Love,
Kelly
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An earlier version of this article originally appeared at the Huffington Post, published with permission.
