The sadness of loss usually fades. Is mourning then finished?
How does one know?
The positive news is that grieving past a human’s departure can open doors you believed were forever closed.
The danger of unfinished grieving is how much it captures us, holding hostage our present and future as ransom to the past.
At the end of our most important relationships, many realize they held the unspoken fantasy that the departed would always be there. The idea persisted because of how much we depend on and hope for secure possession of a stable, warming presence nearby.
A death mocks the innocence we maintained. We are without the loved one we could not live without. The earth underneath us gives way, and “the winter of our disconnect”* appears endless.
The one who abandoned us was present for many of our efforts to meet challenges, triumph over adversity, and achieve fulfillment. What will happen now?
Psychotherapy raises this issue and more. How will I get along? Where is a cure for a broken heart? I need permanent support; who else will give me happiness and the pleasure we shared?
Even when the most acute phase of distress ends, the psychotherapy patient often hides from the world. Reaching for attachments, he thinks, invites another blow.
Giving up on possibilities, fresh relationships, and self-reliance goes nowhere productive. The retreat to safety is unsafe, promising only solitude.
The death of a beloved pet offers an example of the problem. Not everyone chooses another gentle companion, fearful this animal, too, will pass.
To complete bereavement, treatment helps the suffering individual recognize he is responsible for himself and the creation of his further existence.
Any hidden, barricaded adaptation must be set aside to allow horizons to widen and new meaning to enter. Taking responsibility for personal satisfaction is the sole path to revitalization.
Remembering and honoring those who meant so much often includes lighting memorial candles and grave site visitation. We are left with such reminders, but even these demonstrate that the place of those who have left us has changed.
It is essential to admit the departed had imperfections lest we create an altar to them frozen in place, a false object of worship. Any such icon remains silent, failing to offer us the solace and joy of another living human, imperfect as we all are.
Our task is to allow the memories a space for transformation. This includes laughing at the dead’s peculiarities and foibles while respecting their guidance, wit, affection, and wisdom. Openness, enlarging over time, enables memory to move from a source of pain to a blessing.
This can be unimaginable immediately after the excruciating loss, but the work of grieving progresses for many — an outcome that the absent one most likely would have wished for us.
The best individuals of our acquaintance are irreplaceable. Yet, we replace them via our work, creativity, travel, spirituality, helping those in need, or another leap into the uncertainty of human contact.
Flourishing remains possible with enough courage to begin a more artistic and expansive view of what the world can offer despite everything.
The world waits for us to reenter. To move ahead comes with the knowledge that change cannot be wished away, and we will be unsettled in ways sizable and small.
The philosopher Martin Heidegger wrote, “We are thrown into the world.” Sometimes, we land badly, but fulfillment depends on getting up, however long it takes.
Humanity has never been without the fading of those closest to them. For most of our history, disappearance came with speed, often overnight and almost always at home. The wheat fields still needed harvesting, and the animals required transport to market. We wouldn’t be here if our ancestors had not gotten on with life.
Those who wrote the Egyptian Book of the Dead lived an average of 35 years. At the beginning of the 20th century, men could expect to see 50 summers.
At first, it is almost impossible to enjoy gratitude for the gift of lengthy periods with our darlings, a circumstance our ancestors would have marveled at. And yet time works its strange magic and may save room even for this.
The imperfect solution to our emptiness requires searching for joy, attachment, and delight. Desire need not die with the another’s departure.
Death and other losses are the ultimate denial of control. They challenge us to be imaginative and pursue life ravenously, aware that anything can happen in a fleeting, unprepared instant.
Without our persistence and courage, no bliss will enter to pull us out of a chosen, lightless cavern. A singular attempt at reshaping ourselves and our prospects moves us from the past into the here and now, from which we can envision a liveable future. With time, perhaps even more.
Personal resilience will be tested. Contentment — for as long as it lasts and as often as we can achieve it — requires us to raise our hand and volunteer for the search for renewed meaning and love in whatever form.
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*This quotation comes from Shakespeare’s Richard III.
The three outdoor photos are courtesy of the gifted Laura Hedien, with her permission: Laura Hedien Official Website.
The first is A Sunrise in the Italian Dolomites, in Late October 2022. The second image was taken at the Albuquerque Balloon Fiesta 2023. Finally, a vision of the Milky Way in New Mexico, October 17, 2023.