quietly. paicho, gulu, uganda. april 2010. CAFWA

sometimes we can make big loud overtures to our pain. belt out songs about our suffering. paint our darkness and write eulogies to our grief.

but, other times, circumstance requires discretion, self-soothing, and silence.

neither is right, i am learning. there is time and space for both. even in the course of a single day.

what i hope, for myself and for you, is that when the time comes to be held, to have that song heard and that ache understood, that we will continue to show up for one another. with or without words, or in whispers of forgotten languages, we will be with one another.

can we promise each other that?