When There Are No Words...

I met Lizzie one September evening at a Monday night church class. We were put in the same group. Table #16. I was new. She was new. I was shy. She had a pretty smile and laughed a lot. The weeks flew by and other group members came and went. Lizzie and I were the steady fixtures of our group.

Over those Monday nights we shared of ourselves. She talked of her three sisters and the close bond they all shared. I relayed the latest antics of my kids. We talked of our past experiences, and the choices that had shaped our lives. We shared our dreams for the future.

One cold snowy Monday evening I told Lizzie about my dream of writing. At this time in my life, I had shared this dream with few other people. I was afraid of the reaction - afraid of the looks people would give me when I told them. The "oh that's nice but yeah right" sort of look.

I remember that moment after I told Lizzie. That quiet space after the words left my mouth where I just wanted to reach out and take them all back. I waited for the awkward look, for the polite response. But Lizzie just smiled. Her big, glowing, genuine happy smile. "Me too," she said. And so, Lizzie became my first writing friend.

We talked a lot about writing over the coming months. Over breakfast dates and library meet-ups we developed and began to write a story together. When Lizzie got a job out of state, we continued our novel through bi-weekly phone conversations and Google Docs. Every other Tuesday at 9:00 p.m., my phone would ring. We would share our latest chapters, discuss plot ideas, and catch-up on each others lives.

She came to visit twice - the last trip came in late May. I met her for breakfast one Sunday morning where she told me about the fabulous day her and her sisters had spent together that past Friday. I smiled enviously. I had no sisters and couldn't help but think longingly of what it must be like to have three built-in best friends for life.

Shortly afterwards I left for vacation and Lizzie went home. We got off our Tuesday chat schedules and started attempting to plan a phone date to get back on track. It never happened.

Then July 31st came and I sat down to do something I rarely do - watch the news. The body of a 24-year-old woman had been discovered. A tragic, accidental death. How sad for her family, I thought before going to bed. The next morning a Facebook post from Lizzie and a news article sent my heart spiraling down into my knees.

That young woman was Lizzie's youngest sister.

Words have the power to make somebody feel. Whether it's joy, peace, shock, sadness, laughter or escape, the best words leave us feeling something. Entertained. Moved to tears. Not alone in the world. But there isn't a word in any language that can take away the grief of losing a loved one.

I've sent many messages to Lizzie over the past week to let her know I'm thinking of her and praying for her. They've gone via Facebook, via card, via the hugs at the funeral. My messages have all been similar to the numerous words of others. Thinking of you. Praying for you. I'm here for you. Short, cliche, yet heartfelt, sentiments that are mere fillers for when we don't know what to say.

Because even a writer knows sometimes there just are no words.