Lately it seems as though many of my clients are dealing with all kinds of grief and loss. Whether that be the death of a loved one, the loss of a pet, pregnancy loss, termination from a job, navigating divorce, or even loss of a sense of safety in the world, there are billions of people who are struggling to get through all kinds of devastating circumstances. Sometimes, loss is not about the absence of something in our personal world or the world around us, but rather an emptiness inside us. This could be due to the loss of one's physical capacities, cognitive abilities, or even the loss of a time in life that brought more joy or security. Regardless of the type of loss we may face, the toll it takes is often indescribable. Yet, in all of the misery, there are moments of clarity and strength that would not have otherwise been acquired. Rather than describe my clients' experiences, I will give some personal examples from my own life, in hopes that someone reading this will benefit from the viewpoints expressed here.
Last week, I was driving around doing errands, and passed different areas where I lived while raising my children. It got me thinking about the loss of a place and a time, and never being able to relive or redo certain moments in our lives. For example, years ago, when my then-husband filed for divorce while my kids were essentially still babies, I was somewhat blindsided to say the least. We had experienced a lot of conflict in our marriage, as two people do who have very different views of parenting, and of the world in general. I knew divorce was ultimately in my best interest, but it was not something for which I was prepared. Occasionally, I have thought about the biggest disappointment of my divorce, which was not the dissolution of my marriage, but rather the loss related to not having a true partner in raising children together. At present time, my kids are no longer kids, and my divorce seems like a lifetime ago. However, driving past all of the places where I raised my children, I felt a momentary loss. It was a sudden and unexpected reminder of the challenges that came with single parenting, as well as how quickly time passes. However, I am proud of myself for how I navigated single parenting and divorced life with little kids. It reminds me of how courageous, fun, patient, and strong I was at that time.
A few years after my divorce, my mother died unexpectedly. Two months after that, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. The timing of all of it was unfortunate. However, I was fortunate that I was able to see my mother the day she died, as my parents were in town to see my kids. I was also fortunate to need minimal cancer treatment (in comparison to what some people have to go through), and I am beyond grateful that the cancer never returned. Yet, there was still loss involved. The loss was about no longer living a life in which I didn't have to think about my health or my mortality. At 40, I was focused on raising two young children. I was busy with my psychology practice, and trying to navigate treatment, work, and my parenting time alone. I feel proud of how well I handled such a difficult time, especially since I had no family in the area. Sometimes I think about the ex-boyfriend who broke up with me during that time (he is now married to his female friend for whom he left me.) That was a relationship loss that multiplied the grief and loss of my health. A handful of years later, I had a follow up biopsy that went poorly (but fortunately was benign), which required me not to be left alone afterward. Instead of my boyfriend at that time being there for me, he broke up with me a few hours after the procedure. Sometimes loss is about losing our sense of safety, our security, our trust in others, and often, our trust in ourselves. I will say, after the experiences described above, I was able to come out stronger, and learned (albeit the hard way) how to trust my gut instincts, my own strength and capabilities, and to become a better judge of character. Consequently, I have become very adept at helping others do the same.
Fast forward to this past weekend, in which my adult son was flying home from vacation when he got caught in a terrible thunderstorm. Tornadoes had touched down in a different part of the state, killing people and destroying homes. I was worried because his plane was supposed to land during all of this, and I checked the flight that he was on. The only information I could find was that the plane was diverted. It did not say to where, and there was no tracking of the flight's location. I lay awake all night thinking it was possible that my son was lost to the skies. Thoughts about a young person's life ending too soon, as so many parents unfortunately have to endure, is gut wrenching. I am grateful that my son's plane was diverted to an airport in another state, and then eventually he was able to return home. I know far too many people who have lost children to terminal illness, accidents, suicide, and other unimaginable tragedies. I have seen parents who have been devastated by a child's death, but who are somehow able to find a greater purpose following the loss. It is this purpose that allows them to keep moving forward in life.
Of all the obstacles humans face, grief and loss can be one of the most challenging, and which substantially detracts from finding the positive in life. Surprisingly, however, loss can also add something to our lives. Loss shows us how valuable our friends and family are, and how meaningful human connection can be. It shows us how strong we are during times when we only have ourselves to rely on. It teaches us how to navigate an often grueling world, and to not give up when things get difficult. Loss teaches us who we can count on, and who is wasting our time and energy. Loss allows us to grow and change and adapt. Most importantly, loss paves the way for gratitude for what we do have, so that we don't lose sight of what matters most. It teaches us not to sweat the small stuff. The reality is that loss could not exist if we did not have others in our lives who make it more meaningful and rewarding. As the following quote tells us (attributed to Queen Elizabeth II, who adapted it from a passage in a book by Dr. Colin Murray Parkes), "Grief is the price we pay for love." I could not agree more.
