Occam’s Razor

Occam’s Razor


Having someone bear witness to my loss and broken heart is the best comfort.

Simple acknowledgment is everything. It’s okay to say his name.

I’m guessing that overthinking—not bad intentions—is sometimes the culprit.

Bearing witness is less complicated and better than someone bright-siding it or any one of a myriad of grief-fixing options that won’t work. Those tools in that toolbox were not made for grief.

Recently a friend—who has known massive loss, herself—sent me this gift.

This tiny bottle is made for tears.

It’s a visual reminder that my Abba Father bears witness to my loss.

I wake up every day and my first thought is remembering that Joey is gone—that alone feels cruel like I’m being told for the first time.

I dream of him most nights. I’d like to say they are good dreams that comfort me. I’d like to say that. But I can’t.

One morning, a day or so after I had received the little bottle-for-tears from my friend, I had awoken from one of those uncomforting dreams. My weeping woke me up.

When I made my way over to the mirror, I saw that I had salty, dried tears all around my eyes. How long had I cried during the night, I wondered. I took a Q-tip and cleaned the salty white tears from around my eyes.

Not far off, I could see my little bottle—my little bottle bearing witness.



Some notes~

“You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book.” –Psalm 56:8

Occam’s Razor, put simply, states: “The simplest solution is almost always the best.”

An example of simple acknowledgment or bearing witness, for me, would be something like this: “I have no idea what to say, but I hurt for you…and I’m here if you want to talk—or not talk—and just be together.”

An example of what someone recently said (wrote) to me: “I’m bearing witness, Pam. I dreamt of you the other night, your broken heart was the main theme. Holding you in my heart.”