When someone I care about is in pain, everything in my body aches to fix it for them.

Yes. I’m a fixer.

It is not my job to fix things for everyone. But I want to. Everything inside me wants to.

I don’t like to see my loved ones hurting. I don’t want them to go unheard or unseen or unnoticed. I don’t want them to grieve alone. I want to fix the problem. Make it better.

And I’m absolutely paralyzed by the fact that right now, I cannot fix this. I can’t make the pain go away. Ease the guilt. Soften the harsh reality. Cushion the fall. Fill the emptiness. (Insert every cliche’…)

I cannot fix this.

I can only try to make him smile and laugh and try to quicken the process so the laughter will reach his eyes again and fill the empty space in his heart.

I cannot fix this.

It’s my mantra. I have to remind myself of this, every second of every day.

Healing takes time.

I cannot fix this.

I can only love. And in the end, I hope that love is the magic bandage that he will need.

I cannot fix this, but maybe my love can.