I am a little late with my Summer of Substack Essay Festival. I struggle these days for the creative spark. I am sure this will pass. I had a light bulb moment with the word Generosity. Of course I know about this. I am enriched by this word and the deeds of others!! Please read my short essay. Further info can be found in my profile and links provided. I did not want to make this all about me and my desperation. But it all fits so well.
Generosity flooded in from friends, neighbors and people we had never even met. There were loads of well wishes. Kind and supportive caring words of hope. I am not sure how we got through those early months of total panic and distress. However, there was a steady flow of friends to the house, making cups of tea, bringing us company, support and solid shoulders to lean upon. Selfless, kind, some with words and others just an ear to listen. But it was a generosity of spirit and unity that developed.
When my 16-year old son went out one cold Saturday evening and vanished, out of character, our family and friends entered uncharted territory. The world of the missing.
In those early days, when we fully expected him to walk back through the door, chagrined, awkward and with a tale to tell. We fully expected an answer to explain his sudden disappearance. This sort of thing does not happen to us, we thought. There will be an explanation, and life will return to normal. But that never happened for us and this year will mark 29 years of searching for the answers.
My son’s young friends came to visit, in an ominous silence just to sit in the place where he had lived and they had laughed playing their guitars writing lyrics, living young lives. To this day, those same people are present in one way or another. In a Facebook group which was set up in search of my son. Or remembering important dates, birthdays, missing day, or sharing news articles about our struggle. Buying and reading my book. Supporting campaigns and fund raisers. The generosity of spirit is still a community held together with care and generous spirits. The best tiny snippets of joy are the funny anecdotes I did not know until they remembered to tell me. He was remembered.
The generosity I have known is a giving of the spirit. It is a rallying around to help handle an issue, together. Facing the unknown with determination to ‘help.’ It’s a cup of tea. It is a ear to listen. It is comforting words. A hand holding mine. It is digging in the ground by strangers to look for a body. It is a strangers good will message. It is a human condition.
So, to all the kind and generous and supportive friends out there.
Thank you. These words of thanks seem so shallow when compared to such stoic kindness.
Isle of Wight - authors photo
Summer of Substack Essay prompt by
Hugs to you, Valerie, and brava for finding your way to living in such a heartbreaking limbo. Generosity does indeed lift our spirits and even save our lives in some ways. xo