Love and Loss

I am pretty lucky as I haven’t lost many loved ones to death.  There have been some.  On an October evening during my freshman year of college, I was working on homework in my dorm room when my dad called.  Uncle Ed had been hit by a young driver while working for the Department of Transportation.  The, then barely 16 years old, driver didn’t heed the warnings to slow down in the construction area and hit him head on.  He died, leaving behind a wife and four small children. It was my first real loss.  I wrestled for weeks, months and even years thinking about the family left behind; my cousins who for at least two of them would have no memory of their father. I wondered how that would affect the rest of their lives. 

I don’t recall going to another funeral for many years. In fact I was an adult when my great grandfather passed away. He had gotten up in years and his death was much less surprising than Uncle Ed’s. I went to the funeral where I was able to connect with cousins and aunts and uncles and while we mourned the loss of our grandfather, we also enjoyed seeing each other. The next several years were filled with other deaths.  My grandfather, Dick, elderly aunts and uncles.  Over time I learned how to behave when death happened. 

Dealing with death is not easy.  The finality of it can be overwhelming. When death occurs there can be such a longing for healing that just doesn’t come.  There’s a loss of control knowing you cannot do anything to fix it; to bring them back into your own life. And yet, so often we are embarrassed to feel it.  We don’t want to burden friends and family for too long.  We decide how long is the right amount of time to talk about it, then assume after that every one is tired of hearing about it. Few of us take the time to wallow, to be sad, to lay in our beds with the curtains drawn and the lights out.  We get up, strap on our boots and get on with it. Over time, people stop asking how we are doing because they don’t want to bring it up and “make us sad,” implying that sadness is the worst thing someone could feel. 

But what about when a relationship is severed due to something other than death? A couple years ago I had a dear friend.  We spent a lot of time together.  We shared stories, secrets, laughs.  I loved spending time with him.  It was not romantic, just a sweet friendship. Then he got married and everything changed.  Suddenly, it was awkward.  There was no falling out; no hurt feelings; no arguments. His new bride was a lovely woman. The friendship came to a sudden halt.  I understood, but hated it.  I went through a range of emotions.  I found myself looking for clues that would make everything alright.  I cried, got mad, hurt and repressed.  But the truth was, I was sad.  I missed him.  I had had loss.  I talked about it with a couple girlfriends, but after awhile I began to feel I was being dramatic; that it wasn’t that big of a deal, that they were getting tired of hearing about it. But I continued to feel sad.  I was mourning.  I was working through a loss. No one had died, but I still felt a loss of control.  I couldn’t get back where I wanted to be. I couldn’t change things. 

One Sunday afternoon I felt especially blue and allowed myself to just lay in my bed for a few hours.  I slept some, but mostly just wallowed.  It took only a few hours before I began to feel guilty for not being productive.  I had things to do; I couldn’t just lay there feeling sorry for myself.  Things happen.  People are starving, this wasn’t the worst thing that could’ve happened. The funny thing was even though I tried to rally, I still felt sad.  I still had some mourning left to do. It just takes time and that is all there is to it! I just needed to allow myself the time and the indulgence to deal with it. Ignoring it doesn’t make it go away, we can’t “logic” our way out of it. 

I wonder what would happen if we really mourned our losses.  Not just mourned death, but the loss of other relationships? The girl who just got dumped and is a wreck.  The guy who just found out his co-worker who he trusted has been lying to him and now the relationship is ruined.  The spouse who learns they have been cheated on.  What if they were really allowed to mourn? What if it took months, years?  How long is too long? At what point do their peers judge them? Maybe we’d all be healthier; be better at relationships. Perhaps we’d even take more chances.  What do you think?