Tuesday, August 14, 2012


Loss.  It's something we all encounter at one, or more, time(s) in our lives.  All different types of loss.  All different.  All the same.  All different.  All the same.

On the mild end of the coin, it could be an earring you loved.  A Frisbee. A cup that belonged to a treasured relative could break. 

Then...you get to the area of loss where love was involved.  You lose a friend.  A boy or girl friend.  Not because they died...but because the love died.  Or faded.  Maybe you lose a pet.  Maybe it was a pet you kinda liked...or loved with all your being.  Maybe you lose a sibling.  A best friend. A partner.  A parent. 

A child.  Several children. 

Maybe, the loss you are experiencing isn't even related to you...but is about someone else suffering a loss you have experienced.  And the pain of their reality becomes your own.

If you are a therapist, perhaps the loss you feel is from watching all the loss of all your clients.  Experiencing their tears as your own. 

It can be crushing.


As human beings, I believe we were meant to live tribally.  We were meant to experience support.  Group compassion.  The loss of a precious member of the tribe, mourned by ALL.  Together.  All the tears of the loss...shared.  

Instead...we are tribe-less.  We must cry ALL the tears of the loss, whatever it is,....alone. 

Our culture tells us to stand strong.  Buck up.  Get a Grip.  Be positive.  Look on the bright side.

Ignore our pain.

Ignore the pain of others.

Walk on.  Away.


There is no time to grieve.

And no one wants to admit they are grieving as well.

"Be strong!"

"Be positive!"

"Visualize something happy!"


"Please, please...forget.  So that I can forget too."

And yet....

the whisper that remembers never leaves.  ever.

We remember the precious pet.  The one that never left your side.  We remember the spouse who, in the dark, kissed like no other.  We remember the brother...who teased and tickled.  We remember the mother, whose sweet smell still wafts in the bathroom.  We remember the hopes and dreams for the child that never was.  Or was...but left too soon.  Much, much too soon. 

They will look at you with a smile and ask, "How are you?"  and a secret place behind their eyes begs you not to really tell them how you are.  How you really ARE. 

"I've been better..."  is a response they are not looking for.  "Fine"...is a response that is a lie. 

So you simply smile, locking the gates of tear flooded reality. 

Loss.  It touches us all. 

Speak about it.  Share it.  Own it. 

Loss.  We need to be reminded that we are not alone....when we speak of it, we offer support to everyone who has ever lost anything...and that IS everyone. 

Speak of it.  Cry about it.  Laugh in spite of it. 

Yes.  laugh through the tears. 

Because....they would want it that way. 

You know who "they" are. 

Yes.  They would want it that way. 

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