The minister said joy and sorrow come in one cup. Somehow, at age 67, this was a new concept to me. It is confusing when strong emotions swim together. Sometimes the mixture is too powerful for us to handle. Like when a loved one dies. Especially a young one. Especially when they die by suicide.
The minister also said it is not our fault. And it is not someone else’s fault.
The desire to find fault is connected to our need to understand and prevent. It is human, natural, and unhelpful.
Not that there aren’t things we can do to help each other. There are.
Suicide Hotline in the United States is 988.
There are hotlines like this all over the world. (In Uruguay, it is 0800 0767.)
There are also Warmlines, you can call when you feel low. In the US, there are groups for specific populations, including youth, seniors, LGBTQ, Native Americans, BIPOC, and veterans
These call lines are staffed by people dedicated to mutual aid. People helping each other. Like the neighbors who bring meals to my grieving sister and brother-in-law. Like the people who fight ICE with whistles, phones, groceries, and rent fundraisers. Like the people who say no to war.
The grifters in high places can not stop them.
In every country, in every community, they are the ones who fill my cup.