#11 Loss

If I could teach a child anything about love, it is that you will lose it. It could be in the form of a favourite toy left at the school yard, a best friend going to another class, or a great love. You will never get away from this, no matter how old you are or how much you try.

That uncomfortable heartbreak feeling that you get when you lose something.  This is an emotion that we like to hide in our North American society.  We cry behind closed doors.  We cry in the bath.  We don't understand grief.  We're taught that it will go away. Does anger ever go away?  Happiness? Joy? Heartbreak? no.  They are always with you, and you need to cope.

Everyone deals with loss differently.  Some people throw themselves into work.  They plan.  They organize papers, maybe even a great adventure.  Other people lie face down in their covers and stop going to work. They drink.  They don't eat. They don't call their friends.

I am a planner. I am a fixer. I like to give advice. I like to throw myself into projects and do things.  This allows me to feel like I'm in control.  This allows me to accomplish.  I feel proud of myself and I think, why didn't I do these things a long time ago? I glow. On the outside, I look happy. I look free. I run on adrenaline.

But as much as you try, you can't organize yourself out of mourning.

Grief will still come for you.  You will meet her in the middle of the afternoon one day when you're on the phone with the bank. You will be on hold and then a song will play in the background, and even though you have never heard it before you will smile slightly at a stupid lyric and then someone else's smile will pop into your head and then you will hear their laughter. And you will realize that you had almost forgotten the sound.  You will be paralyzed, unsure whether to hang up the phone and wait for another 30 minutes or take your chances that you will have to wait another 10 for the representitive. You will try to distract yourself with math equations and statistics.  But you don't stand a chance.  She will find a way down the sides of your face and from your heart, and you will hope that the person on the other line just thinks that sobbing is your regular speaking voice.

You will read all the articles. You will listen to a great song.  You will fill your time with friends and family and laughter, drinking wine until you fall asleep.  You will go back and forth in your mind justifying and bargaining and wishing that you both were the people you want to be. Then you will find the one song that you feel exactly defines you in this moment in time and you will listen to every day.  Then the next, and the next.  Then all the songs. Until Justin Bieber starts sounding good.

Don't be surprised when it hits you in the middle of sunny day, when you're finally by yourself, just walking home.

I remember when my brother was little, he had bear.  He loved this bear.  I bet you that he could remember its name, although I can't. We forgot it at the park one day, and by the time we realized and had gone back for it, it was gone.  I remember talking about lost things with my brother when we were teens and he sighed and looked sad and forlourn and told me that he still remembered this bear.  I was surprised, you see.  I didn't think that the bear meant that much to him. I didn't think that he would have remembered.

But we remember.

We have to.  We have to hold onto these things, at least partly, so that when grief slips her fingers into ours as we are crossing the street, we are not overcome with emotion hunched over by the traffic lights.  We must think, oh yes, I remember you.  I remember you when I lost my teddy bear.  I remember you when I lost my grandfather.  I remember you when I lost my high school sweetheart. I remember you when I lost my best friend.

My mom always told me that life is change. How well you succeed in your life relates to how you accept the changes that occur (whether you are the creator or not). Some people carry around all their memories and all their hurt and pain in order to protect themselves from these changes.  They pack these pillows around themselves just in case they fall one day, in order to recognize Grief with binoculars when she comes from miles away.  This is called baggage.  It won't protect you.  It's just heavy on you, and on the people around you because they are always walking around it.

You need to move carefully with loss. Recognize her.  She will check in on you from time to time just to make sure you are still alive. Greet her as a friend, give her a moment, and keep on walking.