I understand the urge to explain, the feeling that if you stop explaining, something you can't name but is nevertheless precious will be lost.
Explain anyway.
As much as you need.
Unapologetically.
When my mother died, I did this, but was in too much pain to understand why. Over 20 years later,
even though I understand the *urge*, I'm still not entirely sure *why*, other than sense that it did help me get through it.
When my mother died, I was not on the internet beyond the most ridiculously basic way--I learned how to send an email only after her funeral--but it did open a world to me that I still haven't found the edges of and it gave me the opportunity to meet people who, though newly-met back them, are still friends today, 20+ years later.
And how it now gives me the opportunity to say to you that I understand this urge to explain, the raw need to communicate how uniquely and singulary important Mina was and still is to you.
You won't forget her, but I won't lie to you: you will remember her differently.
But know this: the difference will not mean you remember her less or love her less.
She will not be diminished. She will not be forgotten.
She will be a part of you in the way you carry home inside of you. In the way that when home is inside you, home is everywhere and anywhere you are.
And so will Mina.
So, remember: Let the pain take its course. Mina is the signal. The pain is just the noise. When the noise dies down, you'll pick up her signal again.
I understand the urge to explain, the feeling that if you stop explaining, something you can't name but is nevertheless precious will be lost.
Explain anyway.
As much as you need.
Unapologetically.
When my mother died, I did this, but was in too much pain to understand why. Over 20 years later,
even though I understand the *urge*, I'm still not entirely sure *why*, other than sense that it did help me get through it.
When my mother died, I was not on the internet beyond the most ridiculously basic way--I learned how to send an email only after her funeral--but it did open a world to me that I still haven't found the edges of and it gave me the opportunity to meet people who, though newly-met back them, are still friends today, 20+ years later.
And how it now gives me the opportunity to say to you that I understand this urge to explain, the raw need to communicate how uniquely and singulary important Mina was and still is to you.
You won't forget her, but I won't lie to you: you will remember her differently.
But know this: the difference will not mean you remember her less or love her less.
She will not be diminished. She will not be forgotten.
She will be a part of you in the way you carry home inside of you. In the way that when home is inside you, home is everywhere and anywhere you are.
And so will Mina.
So, remember: Let the pain take its course. Mina is the signal. The pain is just the noise. When the noise dies down, you'll pick up her signal again.
❤️