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on loss


Why do some losses drive us into despair, while others we face with equanimity?  I believe the answer is unrelated to the “depth of love” (a meaningless expression), but rather to how integral the person was to the fabric of our life.  I remember the passing of each of my parents.  I’d lived away from them for many years and so my everyday existence was unaffected.  I quickly returned to my life, sad but composed. 

Imagine the essence of your life as a large piece of fabric and that of those you care about a different piece.  In most relationships, like mine with my parents, the fabrics are intertwined but yet still distinct.  Intermingled but fully separate.  And so, despite the loss, your own fabric is unharmed.  You still are very much who you were and your life as it was. 

But now imagine a different relationship where the fabrics, rather than being intertwined, have become joined together in places – a parent and child, lovers, or very closest friends.  No longer is there a clearly, distinct you from them.  A meaningful part of your existence and theirs is shared between you.  This person is not only important to you.  They are important FOR you. 

It is these losses, I believe, that hit us hardest.  Where the two lives were joined, a hole now exists.  And while time will allow the hole, like a wound, to close and heal, the process is painful.  And the surrounding fabric, stretched, is sometimes never quite the same.  And then most sadly, some holes are too large to close and the survivor’s life is never restored.  

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