A Wave of Sorrow
Loss is part of life, a part of living, and a part of loving.
It feels like loss comes in waves. No one is sick or dying, and then everyone is.
This morning, my daughter called to tell me a childhood friend’s mother had passed away. A few hours later, a good friend told me a mutual friend of ours has cancer. Last week, there were two deaths in my outer circle. Two weeks ago, my sister had a Mohs procedure, and my cousin with dementia fell out of a two-story window. The wave of sorrow is crashing on the shore, eroding the beach and ebbing back to sea.
It all adds up and mounts until it is too much to look in the eye.
When I journal at night, I try to remember the names of the people I want to pray for and add them to the blank page. This written prayer is my way of asking God to give hope and comfort to those in need. When I cannot recall all of them, I say what my mom used to say in her nightly prayers: “Lord, you know who they are.”
Prayers, good intentions, sympathy, and get-well cards never seem enough. I should do more, like make meals, call more often, and meet for coffee, but I also don’t want to be intrusive. My heart breaks for those with whom I feel a deep connection, and I empathize with others who have lost someone close to them.
I read somewhere that the world does not stop for your sorrow, and the saying stuck with me. After my dad died, I would watch people walk down the street, happy and smiling. I thought, how dare they? My dad is gone; I’m grieving. Life goes on around us; people are doing their laundry, going to work, and picking up their kids from school while I cry alone.
As my mom was aging, she would tell me about all the funerals she was attending, some family, and many friends. I listened to her stories and thought, so this is what will happen to me. One by one, people leave us, or we leave them.
My parents were sad and heartbroken when they lost someone dear, but they always managed to forge ahead; life went on. They carried on for the sake of their family and likely for their mental health. Their faith held them together as their love did. What keeps you together during times of loss?
When my sister died, I thought I would never be able to move forward. I wondered how others could put one foot in front of the other while I was staggering backward. Loss and grief are a mystery not meant to be solved. I often wondered how others handle their heartbreak.
We are born and die; what we do with the dash between the two dates matters in the end.
Part of living is loving, and part of life is dying.
Bit by bit, that’s all she wrote…