I want to wish you happiness, but I don’t know if you want that. I didn’t want happiness after the death of my son. It felt disloyal.
I want to wish you answers about the death of your loved one, but I don’t know if they would be useful. The answers I received only brought up more questions.
I want to wish you the solitude you need to process your feelings; to deal with your grief, but I wonder if you want that? Was solitude only useful to me?
I want a lot of things for you, but I think most of them stem from things for which I felt a need.
So I think what I really wish is that you get what you need. That you have people in your life who understand, who ask the right questions, who do the right things. I hope that you receive the right answers, and if it’s useful, that you find a way to process your pain. I hope you make the progress that you’re able, and I hope no one holds you liable for what you just can’t do. This is what I hope for you.
I love you.