I’m Glad You Didn’t Die
(And Other Kind Words)
“I’m glad you didn’t die.” — Jon
These words greeted me from the backside of a business card as I sat down at my desk that day. They were written in the unmistakeable ink of his medium point “Bic Clic” pen. It was January 17th, a day I’d love to forget but never will. Four years earlier I laid sobbing in a hospital bed, afraid of losing everyone and everything I care about. I don’t think about that day often, but every January my body remembers. I shiver from the damp snow that fell. The smell of stale cigarette smoke fills my nostrils as I remember the ride to the hospital in my friend’s car. I hear the scratchy sound of the dry razor scraping across my chest to clear the way for the EKG. I taste the salt of the tears that ran uncontrollably down my cheeks. I feel the surge of pain shooting through my head and neck and chest. My muscles tighten and ache from the thin mattress of the hospital bed. The body remembers and every January 17th it triggers a flood of emotion. This is the day I had a heart attack.
“I’m glad you didn’t die.”
Maybe these words seem insensitive or callous. But they aren’t. Not coming from Jon, anyway. From Jon they were perfect. As I read them I pictured his face… looking at me with deep love and compassion. I’m certain as he wrote them his eyes reddened and welled with tears. I imagined a slight tremble and break in his voice as he said them.
“I’m glad you didn’t die.”
It wasn’t gruff or insensitive. No, it was a direct and beautiful message from a friend who knows and loves me well. When I saw him next I said, “I’m glad I didn’t die too.” He smiled through his tears, opened his arms and welcomed me in warm embrace.
I keep that card on my desk where I see it most every day. I’m glad I didn’t die, and I’m thankful for friends like Jon who know what to say and how to say it and when. Jon has written several really helpful books. If you’d like to get a taste of his work you can find him at ThisIsHard.Substack.com