Loss

Loss in a variety of forms walks with us daily, yet when it arrives, the weight of it never fails to surprise. Whether it is an opportunity, an item or a loved being, loss though in theory a known sensation, pierces anew each time.

I have not found a way to process loss, yet it arrives unannounced like an unwelcome house guest arriving at an inopportune time.

At times it causes my knees to buckle, my lungs to lose air. At other times I dig deep and power through, trying my best to ignore the piercing that pricks me, and causes my chest to heave, and tears to march out of my eyes.

I have not found a way to process loss, though loss continues to participate, unsolicited, in my human journey.

Sometimes talking helps, sometimes just the sound of another human voice grates the core of my soul. Sometimes human touch helps. Sometimes I need solitude, at others ambient noises to distract me. Loss affects me in varying ways, at different volumes, and at a multitude of velocities.

I have not found a way to process loss, yet loss continues to be an unwelcome companion on my human journey.

I hate pithy words. And clichés. I know everything happens for a reason but I am not sure that it helps anyone experiencing loss to hear that. To be clear, it doesn’t help me. When loss is acute, I definitely don’t want to commiserate about other people’s losses or recount for everyone who learns of the loss the play by play account of how the loss occurred.

I have not found a way to process loss, yet loss creeps into my life and takes up space, refusing like a rightful owner to relinquish the place it has claimed.

I have not found a way to process loss, and I lost someone today.

It doesn’t matter who. It doesn’t matter how. It hurts.

Forgive me if I am snippy.

Or non-communicative.

Or short.

I have not found a way to process loss.

I don’t have any platitudes to give. I don’t want any to store in my chest of unused, unwanted items. Today I am praying. I am writing. I am drinking tea and sitting quietly.

I have not found a way to process loss, even though it is persistent in its zeal to acquaint itself with me.

I have not found a way to process loss.