Dear grieving mother,
Welcome to the sisterhood of the wailing tent. With profound condolences, I know
this greeting will soon be forgotten, for your heart and soul have sustained a
terrible blow. The shock known as
"the fog" will accompany you for some time, greatly impacting your
memory. So I offer you this written
welcome to refer to when your recollection falters.
The wailing tent is an honored place where only mothers
with a broken spirit can enter. Admittance
is gained not with an ID card bearing your name, but with the profound sorrow
freshly etched on your heart. Membership
is free, for you have already paid the unfathomable price. The directions to the wailing tent are secret, available only
to mothers who speak our language of everlasting grief. No rules are posted, no hours are noted. There is no hierarchy, no governing
body. Your membership has no expiration
date, it is lifelong. The refuge offered
within its walls does not judge members based on age, religious belief, or
social status. You can hang your
camouflages and mask outside, and if you can't make it past the door, we will
surround you with love right where you lay.
The wailing tent is a shelter where mothers shed
anguished tears among her newfound sisters. A haven where all forms of wailing are honored, understood, and
accepted. In the beginning, you will be
very afraid, and will hate the wailing tent and everything it stands for. You will flail, thrash about, and spew vile
words in protest. You will fight to be
free of the walls, wishing desperately to offer a plea bargain for a different
tent, learn a different language. Those
emotions will last for some time.
Your family and friends cannot accompany you here. The needs of the wailing tent are invisible
to them and, though they will try, they simply cannot comprehend the
language nor fathom the disembodied, guttural howls heard within.
In the beginning, your stays here will seem endless. Over time, the need for your visits will
change and eventually you will observe some mothers talking, even smiling,
rather than wailing. Those are the
mothers who have learned to balance profound anguish with moments of peace,
though they still need to seek refuge among us from time to time. Do not judge those mothers as callused or
strong, for they have endured profound heartache to attain the peace they have
found. Their visits here are greatly valued,
for their hard earned wisdom offers hope that we too will learn to balance the
sadness in our hearts.
Lastly, you need not flash your ID card or introduce
yourself each time you visit, for we know who you are. You are one of us, an honorary lifelong
sister of the wailing tent. Welcome, my
wailing sister.
Fondly,
The Sisterhood of the Wailing Tent
