Sometimes it is hard for me to distinguish a loss from a change. I’ve always been this way. I experience everything missing like it was as a loss, initially, and grieve accordingly. Later, when I realize the definition of that experience for myself, I recover in my way. I’m processing these changes/losses a bit differently, I notice, now that I’m older, however.
It seems that when I was young I had more resiliency. There was a built-in function to scar over and carry on, however dysfunctional. Like other resiliencies, they are lost to me now with age. Now, when I feel as though I have lost something, all I can hear for a spell is a big wind blowing through a huge hole in me. The armies of repair have retired. The call to arms rouses a sleepy crew of cranky and slow defenses and I sincerely feel as though I’m closer to death as they finally pull themselves together. I’m beginning to suspect that these seemingly irreparable losses are natural and a way to prepare me for the BIG leaving; the BIG change. Enough of these and, no doubt, I will be more than ready to disdain this life for some other alternative, come the time. I only hope I am lucid enough to hear my name being called….
My latest loss defies definition. I lost something virtually. That does not mean it meant any less to me. In fact, it seems to be even more valuable to me for its unique relationship to my feelings; the different way it appealed to me and the unique way I cleaved to it. It seems that nature always, eventually, finds its way into that little fist of heart I maintain. I was seduced! I was duped! …and I loved every minute of it.
I’m learning to live with my loss and, as I limp through my days trying to fill the void with something other than self pity, a journey ensues…..For now, however, I listen to the howl of my soul escaping me and I wait to begin to understand the actual dynamics of what this change means for me.