Note Writing Helped Me Become a Writer

Let me explain this I am a writer realization. When I talk, I get into trouble. My brain is thinking, explaining, moving at light speed, justifying my words as they are released into the conversation but they come out too slow and not complete. Compared to my brain, my mouth is slow and moves and talks, but sometimes, it all just comes out wrong. As a result, I insult, or hurt feelings or completely say the wrong thing. In my head, it never sounds that way but oh boy do I get myself in trouble. Unintentional, but there is no putting the toothpaste back in the tube. Ugh.

It continues to be a struggle how things come out of my mouth and I still mess up and I am still learning.

If we back up over the years, I was always the person who could fill the awkward silences. People would comment on it and be grateful for my input so as to make everyone feel more comfortable. Now that we are older, there is no awkward silence, everyone talks over each other and no one can ever finish a story.

This fill in the gaps talent is not always a good thing. When people are hurting or struggling and you want to comfort them, it is not as easy as casual conversation. For a long time, I would make comments to try to make people feel better but a lot of times I did just the opposite. Again, unintentional but I am aware of so many times I said the absolute wrong thing.

The most harrowing of all is death. When someone loses a loved one, what do you say? The awkward and uncomfortable silences are deafening. How do you handle this, how do you help, how do you make someone who just lost a loved one feel better?

My experience in this area is nil. My husband lost his dearest and best friend at the age of 48 and it was tragic and pains him to this day. He also recently lost his father and our hearts are broken forever. Death is cruel and at this point in my life, I do not have an understanding of a loss that impacts my every day.

As I write this in Dec. 2021, I am blessed to have a complete family unit to include my parents who are 85 and 86 and healthy.

However, I have three best friends who lost their husbands way too young. The first, lost her husband at age 36. I am tearing up and feel the crushing loss as I write this…not for me but for my best friend. The day after the accident, I drove to my friend’s house and I physically hyper-ventilated and gasped for air on the entire drive to see her. I did not know what to do, say or how to act.

None of that mattered. The second I arrived, my friend made me feel better. What is wrong with that? Everything, but it was a teaching moment I embraced from my friend. She just wanted me there along with all of our other friends. I only realized this in hindsight.

Over the years, I've tried to say things to justify why these premature deaths happen but it is the worst thing I could ever do. I think I’m helping but I am not.

During that horrific, horrible time when my best friend lost her husband, I would sit amongst the mourners, mesmerized, lost and confused because there is nothing anyone can do, it can't change. Clueless, I would just sit and watch. I noticed an incredibly stoic woman who was very close to this grieving family. She sat in the room with everyone and she didn’t say anything. Everyone was talking and doing whatever they could to comfort this family and my best friend. It was chaos and territory no one had any experience in or dealing with, what so ever. Yet, I watched this stoic woman and she was quiet and did not talk but her presence was felt. She did not have to talk. Her being there was enough. I learned, I don’t have to talk. I don’t have to fill awkward silences in this situation. Just be. Just sit there. Anything I try to say, will come out wrong and no one cares what I am going to say. It is okay.

I can share my sympathies and condolences in a note. A heart felt, personal note. No one has to hear what I have to say, again because no one cares. I can write to the person who is hurting. In writing, I can pause, I can read, I can re-read, I can rip up the note if I say the wrong thing and start over. There is no toothpaste back in the tube moment because it’s not out there until the note is received.

Another moment that helped me understand and confirm this idea of don’t talk, write…happened with a stranger.

While working in medical device sales, a colleague in my organization lost his father. I had never met the young man who lost his dad but our District Manager had left a group message sharing the very sad news and maybe we should reach out to share our sympathies.

I was in Atlanta and the sales rep who lost his father was in New Orleans and I did not know him. I wrote him a note to say I was sorry about his dad. Again, I have no real experience or reference to this type of loss and I simply shared my fear of the inevitable. I honestly cannot remember what I wrote for it was a long time ago but I think it was something to that effect.

The only reason I remember this and can refer to it is the young man called me. I had not met this person. We were simply colleagues who had no encounters, we just shared the same career type in the same company. I will never forget his phone call. He was so grateful and appreciative and literally said he could not believe the note I wrote him and he thanked me, personally. It was so unexpected, I did not know what to say. Naturally, all that talk fear reared its ugly head so I didn’t say much. I just said I was sorry about the loss of his dad.

That phone call came twenty plus years ago and I have never forgotten it. I don’t remember the name of the man I wrote but his phone call had such an impact on me and it taught me so much. I am so grateful to that colleague for reaching out during his time of grief because it taught me how important it is to be there for people during these tragedies. He didn’t have to call me but he did.

Death and losing people is so difficult. Growing up, no one really teaches about this because it is not anything that can be prepared for or anything that wants to be talked about or discussed. People have to live. Every day is a gift.

I had someone ask me the other day whether or not they should reach out to someone about the loss of a parent…it had been so long and they never called or wrote or acknowledged and now it seemed too long ago. I said do it. They just want to hear from you, I don’t care if it was three years ago or longer. Call or write them. Do it. Just be there.

I write because my mouth gets me in trouble. I still have to navigate all the horrible things I don’t mean to say and it is really embarrassing. I will always try to improve this horrible lack of eloquence…but for now, I will continue to write.

It would not be fair if I did not mention that my Mom and Dad are the ones who ingrained the note writing in me at a very young age. They hounded me about thank you notes. It's a thing in our family and I do my best to always send a thank you note when I receive a gift or a nice gesture. It's just more personal.

And, for me, a chance to share my thoughts without the gaffes.