A friend of mine passed away a few days ago. He wasn’t a particularly close friend, but the news still hurt.
After hearing the news, I went through my usual routine of coping with loss: first, I didn’t tell anyone and just tried to keep it all to myself; second, I confided in one person I could trust and told them exactly how I was feeling; finally, I shared the news publicly but in a way that I can speak about generalities and talk about what I had learned instead of how I feel. (Yes, this post is part of that final step.) That’s how I deal with loss. All the time.
Understanding my cycle of coping with loss made me curious about how other people cope with loss, whether it be of family, friends, pets, or anything else close to them in their lives.
Dealing with loss.
I decided to spend some time this weekend asking total strangers how they deal with loss — not in the big picture sense, but the actual actions they take when they experience loss. I recorded the conversations and I’m transcribing some of the excerpts here. I’ve cleaned up the language and grammar a bit, but the essence of each message is the same.
Zaybeen, mid-50s:
I’m a crier. I cry. I’m not afraid to tell people too. You need to cry to get all the tension out sometimes. After I’m done crying, I feel better. It doesn’t solve the problem — it didn’t bring my dog back when he died last summer — but helps you get things out so you can think about stuff clearly afterwards.
Peter, early-30s:
I don’t know. I guess I just talk to my wife about things and that helps me. She’s really good at listening. I think if you just talk about things, it makes them easier to deal with.
Chantelle, late-teens:
I just go play some tennis. It’s easy to forget about things when you’re playing and when someone dies or you’re really sad, you just need to forget about stuff.
Mike, early-40s:
It’s tough, but you just deal with it. My mother passed away last year, and when she did, somebody had to take care of arrangements and make sure the family was okay. That’s me. Just take charge and understand that it’s part of life. It sucks, and it hurts, but it’s life.
I’ve got a few more but I’m tired and it’s late so I’m going to stop here for now. If you’re willing to share — and you don’t have to, I know it’s a sensitive topic — let me know how you deal with loss.
Thanks for listening.
Kia ora e Sameer
We are human made of flesh that’s easily cut and torn. It is easier than we think to lose a limb. But flesh often heals, though it takes time in convalescence. It may take longer, depending on how much is torn away. When it is healed sometimes the pain and discomfort is still there in the scar. Rubbing it helps. People who see the scar may sympathise and this helps too.
Loss of friends, acquaintances, relatives and loved ones can be like tearing flesh from us. The convalescence is called grief and this takes time to ease. It may take longer, depending on how much is torn away. When it is easier sometimes pain and discomfort is still there. But there is no scar to see. To rub it requires thinking about the grief that’s passed and that helps. People don’t recognise the pain and suffering that continues after most of the grief has passed for they don’t see a scar. So it is good to speak of it and to let them know it’s there.
Kind regards
from Middle-earth
Thanks for the kind words Ken. I still miss my friend and think of him a lot. I don’t quite think I’ve hit that point where I’ve come to grips with it all — particularly since I’ve had nobody here to talk about it with and to help me understand my grief, the perils of being in a new and lonely city — but I know it’s a slow process and appreciate your kind and insightful words.