At times, I haunt grief support forums. I read other people's stories. I occasionally make a post myself, throw my words into the void so that I don't feel so desperately alone. It helps to know some people understand.
I had an exchange with a young woman on one of these forums. She's in her mid-20s and just lost her mother. She asked for recommendations of books and films about loss. So, I compiled a list for her. She's in deep pain, even mentioned an attempt on her life in the past.
In the act of compiling the list I realized how important art is. I've always known this, of course. My podcast is perhaps a monument to the life-saving power of art. Without books, films, music, and other art I don't know if I myself would be here, though I know my mother's love was a key reason why I survived my father's death.
As I chose books and films for this young woman, I was also choosing them for my younger self. I thought of what I needed to see and hear at that age when I was in the depths of my grief. I also added a message that I hoped would encourage her to keep living. Was I talking to her or to the ghost of myself? And was I not also talking to my current self?
I told her many things. More than anything, I wanted to urge her to turn toward life, to reach toward others. I told her that, one day, there might be another grieving woman who needs her, and she can take what she is currently suffering and help that woman, just as I am taking my loss and trying to help her. Maybe that's all we can do.
I can't bring her mother back. I can't bring my parents back. All I could offer her were my words and some art that has helped me along the way. I told her other people have found themselves in the darkness we are now in, and some of them created art that reaches us. And I am so grateful they created that art, that they made that offering. We don't know the effect we can have.
It was just a list of books and films, but it felt like much more. She thanked me for the list and what I wrote to her. She said she will read it on hard days.