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.