A Hole in the World by Amanda Held Opelt

Author:Amanda Held Opelt [HELD OPELT, AMANDA]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781546001898
Publisher: Worthy
Published: 2022-07-19T00:00:00+00:00

When my sister died, hundreds of sympathy cards, letters of condolence, and notes of encouragement came in from all over the world. There were stacks and stacks of them, from every corner of the US, from Japan, Australia, the UK, and the Netherlands. My parents devoured them in the weeks that followed her death, reading every word and drawing comfort from the love and prayers being offered.

I, however, avoided those cards like the plague.

The truth is, every ritual of mourning has the potential to send you deeper and deeper into the reality of your loss. To read those cards would have been to acknowledge afresh that she was in fact gone. Receiving a sympathy card means that someone you love has died. I was still not ready to fully accept that she had died.

Finally, just before the one-year anniversary of her death, I decided that it was time. After visiting my parents one weekend, I packed up my car and placed the box brimming with pastel-colored envelopes carefully in the backseat next to my sleeping toddler. Once I got home, I began to read. Not all at once. But slowly, a few at a time, whenever I found the strength to do so. It took me eight months to read them all.

The cards that were sent to us weren’t especially unique or extraordinary. Many were typical sympathy cards, imprinted with the customary tranquil landscapes, florals, and crosses. Yet, they were in many ways profound. This was because so many of those who sent cards had the courage to offer their personal words to us in our time of mourning.

Most of the letters began in a similar fashion. The writer acknowledged how imperfect and inadequate their words would be. Many stated how foolish they felt even trying to extend comfort. But, as one person wrote in their card, words were all they had to offer.

After reading the first dozen or so, I resolved to approach that box of cards not with a spirit of vigilance, wariness, or cynicism. Cynicism is a cruel companion in grief. It leaves you feeling nothing but smug and empty. I silenced the voice inside that said: This person has no idea what I am going through, or What do they even know about my sister? or How dare you write about hope at a time like this!

Instead, I decided to try to approach the cards and letters with a spirit of trust and curiosity. With curiosity as my companion, I discovered so much extraordinary beauty in those cards. I felt seen, like an army of condolers was bearing witness to my pain, not in a way that was voyeuristic, but with reverence, respect, and deep empathy. I found words of wisdom; insights that reoriented me around the truth. I felt camaraderie, as many people shared that they also had experienced catastrophic loss and had survived. Mostly, I felt love, geographically far-flung, yet mysteriously close and intimate.

Perhaps sympathy cards have been inaptly named. I wonder at times if they should be called empathy cards.

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