The subject of her email read "RE: Divorce".
"I will be calling to finalize payment details to begin the divorce." This was the sentence that glared at me from her first paragraph.
I had been reading what she was writing on her phone (email) as I zoned out on the morning metro ride, thinking about my pain, my hurt, my struggles; I had been thinking about me. This woman was writing 401ks and visitations with Cassie, which Rich would apparently not discuss. When she pulled up the email drafts on her phone, the title of one read "Things that should be said", and they were addressed to "R".
I had been reading her phone screen because I am my Abuela's granddaughter. I am nosy, and interested--deeply--in humanity. I am sad for her. I am sad for divorce. I am sad for the breaks that were never meant to happen in our hearts which, somehow, always do. I happy though, that I saw her on the metro. I am happy I was pulled out of self-centeredness. I am happy I read her email (though many would call me rude for doing so).
It's interesting how you can--when you take a second to look outside yourself--become humbled.
Not in comparing one bad situation to a worse situation, but rather in realizing the varied journeys of those around us. We are not individuals being challenged, or hurting, alone. We are a community, journeying together, always. My shoulder is yours - and yours is mine.
I am so, so sorry about the divorce, mam.
Can we get coffee? I'd love to try and make you laugh.
I am sorry that, sometimes, my hurt makes me the most self-centered person ever. I am glad you pulled me out of that, and put me in a posture of prayer for something other than "my pain" (which isn't invalid, but is always a part of a bigger story - which includes you, and your pain).
I'll try to do better, mam.
I'll try to see better, Lord.
And I think in this "trying"--trying to see beyond my own shadows and temporary fogs--both my heart, and maybe that woman's, become a little lighter.
I prayed; for community around her. I prayed; for strength in her day. I prayed for truth. I prayed for Rich and I definitely freaking prayed for Cassie.
And somewhere in between--slowly--I realized I was praying for, and healing, my own heart.
Praise God. I'll try.
Notes from Church last night, which I thought were worth tacking onto this post:
"How can you draw close to God, when you are far from your self?" Augustine
“There is a deep sense in which we are all ghost towns...The problem, however, is that we tend to spend a great deal of energy in attempting to avoid the truth. We construct an image of ourselves that seeks to shield us from a confrontation with our ghosts. Hence we often encounter them only late at night.” Peter Rollins