The Invisible String - Continued

A few weeks ago, when 5-year-old Liam Ramos was detained by ICE with his father and transferred from his hometown of Minneapolis to a detention center in Texas, I saw his school principal interviewed on the news. He shared that Liam’s teacher had read “The Invisible String” to his classmates to reassure them that Liam could feel their love, even if he was far away. “The Invisible String” is a book I often read to clients who are grieving. It is a powerful book about love and connection. After I saw the news segment, I was both deeply touched … and deeply troubled. It occurred to me that some people don’t seem to know that we are all connected by an invisible string called love. They either don’t know, don’t care, or don’t act like it. To process those difficult feelings, I wrote this short story - a piece of fan fiction based on the wonderful book by Patrice Karst. Some of what I have shared here is from the book, provided for context. The illustrations I have shared here are also from the book and were created by Joanne Lew-Vriethoff. I have also pulled inspiration from the song, “Blessed be the tie that binds.” If you haven’t listened to it in a while, I’ve shared a link at the bottom. Valentine’s weekend seemed like a good time to share this. As Ram Dass said, “We are all just walking each other home.” I will always believe we have more in common than we think we do, and I dedicate this short story to my friends who save space at the string for those who walk away, and to my friends who tie the string back together when it breaks. I am so grateful to you.

The Invisible String - Continued

Liza and Jeremy, the twins, were asleep one calm, quiet night.

Suddenly, it began to rain very hard. Thunder rumbled until it got so loud that it woke them up.

They rolled out of their beds, in their separate bedrooms across the hall from one another, and stumbled into the living room.

As they met one another in the old familiar space, their memories transported them to the days long ago when they could run to their mom for help.

They remembered their mother’s voice saying, “Don’t worry, you two! It’s just the storm making all that noise. Go back to bed.”

“We want to stay close to you,” they had said, as young children. “We’re scared.”

Mom had said, “You know we’re always together, no matter what.”

And then she had told them about “the invisible string” – a lesson they had carried with them throughout their lives.

Mom had said people who love each other are always connected by a very special string made of love. Liza had asked her, “If you can’t see it, how do you know it’s there?”

Mom had said, “Even though you can’t see it with your eyes, you can feel it with your heart and know that you are always connected to everyone you love.”

Mom said when they missed her at school, their love traveled along the string until she felt it tug on her heart. Jeremy realized that when she tugged it back, they felt it in their hearts.

The more they had talked on that night long ago, the more they had believed what Mom told them. Their cat could feel the string. Their best friends could feel the string.

The string could reach anywhere and everywhere. It could reach a submarine, to a mountain, to France, to the jungle, to space … and even all the way to heaven.

Mom said the string does not go away when someone is mad. It is stronger than anger, she had said. Even when you’re older and can’t agree about things, the string is still there.

Their mom’s lesson about the string had stayed with them, and they had realized at that young, tender age that everyone in the world was connected, and that no one was ever alone.

But now – as adults – here in this house where they had grown up, they missed their mom’s reassuring words. They even doubted them at times.

They missed the way things used to be when things made sense - when it was easy to believe in the invisible string.

Now that Liza and Jeremy were all grown up, their mom wasn’t there to comfort them through the storm. She wasn’t there to help them believe in the invisible string.

Liza and Jeremy didn’t even live in this house anymore. They were adults, now, with families of their own. They had just come back to visit.

And the world had grown strange.

So many people were angry, confused, or sad. So many people had begun to feel they didn’t matter. People felt misunderstood. They argued all the time.

Jeremy and Liza had noticed, as adults, that when people feel they don’t matter or that they are misunderstood, they often shout at one another. They say and do mean things to one another.

They always say that someone else started it … which is probably true. It had probably started way back when the very first people walked the earth. Something happened that caused them to disagree, and trouble had been brewing off and on ever since.

Just like the storm outside.

Jeremy sighed and looked at Liza as thunder rumbled and lightning pulsed through the living room windows.

“Do you still believe we’re all connected by a string, Liza?” he asked her, doubtfully.

Liza also sighed, but then shook her head, “Yes.”

“Jeremy, I believe we will always be connected,” she said. “Whether we hold the string, or tug the string, or feel the string – the string will always be there, no matter what.”

Jeremy looked irritated and asked his sister what good the invisible string could be if people couldn’t feel it … or worse yet, if they tugged it so hard it broke. What if they walked away from the string?

Liza sat silent for a very long time.

She thought about how their mom said the string connected them to their friends all over the world. She thought about how it connected them to people in heaven. She thought about how it connected all people, even when they were mad.

These were things she had learned from her mother as a child.

But how could she answer the question Jeremy had asked now that they were grown up, and it seemed so much more complicated: “What good is the invisible string if people can’t feel it, tug it until it breaks, or walk away from it?”

And then it came to her.

“Jeremy,” she said. “Sometimes people do let go of the string. Maybe they let go because their hands are full of too many other things … Or maybe they let go of it because they stop believing in it. Whatever the reason, when they let go of it, they lose hold of the tie that binds us together.”

Jeremy sat up straight and listened more closely. He faintly remembered an old song they had sung in church about this.

“So, what you’re saying is when people let go of the string, or break the string, they forget that we share each other’s problems?” he said. “They forget that other people’s problems are their problems, too? They forget the burdens of others, and lose their sympathy for others?”

Liza nodded sadly, “Yes.”

“When people let go of the string and go their separate ways, it causes pain,” she said. “But hopefully one day they will pick it up again. And then we will be joined together again, in our hearts.”

She softly sang the old song he was thinking of, “Blessed be the tie that binds …”

“You sound like you still have hope,” he said. “And your hope gives me courage. We won’t give up. I long to see the day, just as you described it.”

Liza smiled at her twin and put her arm around him.

“If Mom were here, she would remind us that one day we will all be free from sadness, and pain, and all these strange things in the world that keep us up at night – along with this storm,” she said. “But let’s agree we will never give up on perfect love and friendship – two things which last forever.”

Jeremy knew she didn’t mean “perfect” the way people usually mean it. She meant it in the way that she meant it yesterday morning when she told him his pancakes were perfect - even though they were lumpy, bumpy, and burned.

“Maybe we should just hold onto the string a little tighter when others let go of it,” Jeremy said. “But save a space for them so they can come back if, and when they’re ready.”

“Exactly,” Liza said. “Always save space. Tie the string back together where it breaks. Never stop hoping that every single person finds their way back to the string and what connects us.”

“But also, Jeremy, let’s try to get them to want to come back,” she added.

“How do we do that?” Jeremy asked her, with genuine curiosity.

“By loving everyone,” she answered softly. “We should never stop loving people, no matter how hard they are to love, and no matter how differently they see things than we do.”

“Maybe some people think we are hard to love,” Jeremy said.

“Exactly,” Liza responded. “It’s just like Mom said. The string is still there. Even when we are mad at each other. It never goes away. We just have to hold on and save space.”