The Art of Loss

Saying goodbye is never easy.  Throughout a lifetime, there are many ways we have to say goodbye.  Some of us learn it at a young age, and others never encounter that feeling until they grow older.  

When I was 18 years old, my best friend died in a car accident.  When this happened, I asked a lot of questions, shut myself down on the inside, and put on a strong face for those who needed me the most.  I'm not sure I ever fully dealt with losing her, but perhaps I did it in my own way by being strong for others.  As time went on, and as I grew-my feelings of sadness started to dwindle.  That doesn't mean I forgot about her, or loved her any less.  I just sort of accepted that she was gone, and took comfort in the fact that she was watching over me.  A guardian angel at my back, always.  

Losing someone is never easy.  A friend, a pet, a lover.  There are many ways we can lose someone.  They can be taken suddenly, or they can live a long and happy life--going quietly into the night.  You can sit and watch someone suffer, praying each day that they find peace. Someone we love might choose to end their own pain...a situation I don't want to dwell on, nor do I really want to mention it fully.  Or a person could walk away from you, leaving you in the dust without thinking twice.  

With loss comes many emotions.  Hence, the 5 Stages of Grief that I discuss so often.  But (and yes, I started a sentence with 'But') when we take the emotion or state of grief out of the neat packaging that psychologists have placed it in, it's a very dirty, messy thing.  It's a form of angst, a form of cancer that invades your soul when you have lost something.  In all honesty, no part of grief makes sense--and because of this, we as human beings full of emotion, spend countless hours trying to make sense of something that just cannot be figured out fully.  Thus, comes the main question we all ask, when feeling the effects of loss:

"Why?"

Why?  It's a question we hear a million times throughout the course of our lives.  In fact, it's the first question we learn how to ask as a child.  Why this?  Why that?  Why can't I stay up later?  Why can't I have candy for dinner?  Why can't I go out with my friends?  Why?  I suppose there is some good that can come of asking that question.  Perhaps, if no one had asked "Why", there wouldn't be a cure for Polio.  The wheel wouldn't have been invented.  My father's heart wouldn't be beating right now.  A lot of good can come from asking "Why."  However, sometimes we tend to torture ourselves by asking the same questions over and over and over again.  When it comes to loss, there is a simple answer to this question:

There is no answer. 

There is no answer.  When we come to accept that there is often no answer--is when we can finally start to rebuild ourselves without that person.

At the end of the day, what we have to work on, is accepting life without the person or being we have loved so much.  I write this today, not because of my own situation, but because of something someone I love very much had to deal with today.  It's been a rough go around for her, this year.  Somehow, some way---she has been able to see the positive in every little thing that has happened.  

Everything happens for a reason....

So, on a sunny day, when you're sitting by the water somewhere, you'll look out on the shoreline, and you'll see a man and woman with a black dog...running along the water's edge. It won't make you sad, no.  It will warm your heart; because you know, your black dog--will be running along the water's edge---next to a fisherman. Fishing Pole in hand....and they will be walking off into a bright sunset---in the most beautiful place there is.

I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart)......


A.