Grey

Don't put me on your side, but don't assume I'm against you either.  Don't paint my with your broad black brush, but don't try to scrub me white either.  Haven't we all been around long enough to dwell in grey?  I am in the fortunate position of not actually having to decide this baby's fate, so please don't make me choose.  I am, oddly, more comfortable in the uncertain than picking a side.

Fraction

If I carry just a fraction of your grief today and you carry just a fraction of mine, perhaps our loads will be just a bit lighter.  And if not lighter, at least they are a different shape for a few hours.  So yes, tell me about your mother's alcoholism, your debilitating depression, your son's classmate's leukaemia, and the nine years it has been since your daughter was stillborn.  I will hold your hands and your grief.  You will hold mine and we will all pray for something outside of the normal loop we are stuck in.  We may not feel stronger because we have loved and lost, but we are more gentle, more kind, more empathetic, more aware, more open, and most definitely not alone.