"We care so much," - almost slips out, before it is harshly shushed by the silencing, accusing voices of "Don't say that. How can you ever care enough?"

"We're praying for you," - we almost text, before the demons of erasure toss it eternally into drafts, lacing into us for our insensitivity and crassness.

"You're so strong," we want to cry.

"You're an inspiration to us all!" - But no. NEVER. That's been put on the don't-go-there list. ("I don't WANT to be strong, ok?)

"Is there anything we can do?" is next up for trial. But it fails, too, for cliched overtones and rhetorical vibe.

And we're left wondering - what CAN we say, when a hug feels like too little - or too much?
How CAN we show you just how much we do care, we do cry with you, we feel for you without ever really knowing how much there is to feel?

So, here it is, from a sister who's never felt your pain, and yet feels it so strongly:

I see you.
In the tiniest flinch behind your eyes as my newborn son is named for your father.
In the sea of Doonas at the entrance to the pizza shop.
At the Chanukah party where your nieces and nephews frolick.
And in my Siddur (prayer book) that has heard your name whispered so many times.

I will never have the right words to tell it to you.

I may sometimes stumble over the right thing to say - and more confusingly, not to say.

But let my tears as I write this be witness:
I care. We all care.
And we try to be there for you even when you'd never dream we even see you.

From: A follower who's here to learn how to care