Loss Upon Loss

The night before “the gathering” I got my first hint of healing. Rick invited me over to his house where the kids and their friends were getting together. It was a privilege to hang out with this group of youngsters. Of course, they are grown now and have lives of their own, but having watched them grow up made spending time around the campfire with them ... singing songs, catching up with the passions of their young lives, telling stories of Gina ... the beginning of a blessing. Arend, Jinny, and Johnny are amazing young souls, who have the courage to think for themselves and to share the love they caught growing up with those around them. It started out as a profound night of sharing stories, music, and wine but ended abruptly when I got an email on my phone.

It was from another old friend of mine - Joe Battaglia. I was amazed because I hadn’t heard from him in years. The email was brief, but its impact profound. His sister, Rosemary, had died from breast cancer.

I was stunned.

For a short time Rosemary and I had dated. We both carried scars from difficult divorces that kept our relationship at arm’s length, but we also shared some wonderful times together. Rosemary was beautiful and full of life and love. She was another person I valued greatly and whose presence on this planet made this dark world a brighter place.

As I drove back from Gina’s memorial it hit me right between the eyes. I was sad ... really, really sad. It was a feeling I could not deny or shake off with a few choruses or “Don’t worry, be happy ...” I had begun my mourning in earnest.

Don’t get me wrong, I have wrestled with Death’s spectre - and refused to let go until I found the blessing and a place in my soul to put eternity. The night before my mom died I went to visit her in her hospital room. She was suffering from emphysema and osteoporosis. Every breath was a struggle and filled with pain, yet her eyes were filled with light and love. She looked death in the face and did not flinch. (I believe Gina and Rosemary had that same look.) I was in my mid 40’s; I had a place for things then. Largely because of the faith I had seen in those eyes over the years and the Christ encounters that had molded my college days and beyond.

I don’t know why those weren’t enough this time. Perhaps time and cynicism had eroded the faith. Perhaps it was simply too much loss all at once. Perhaps there are some emotions that you just have to deal with... I simply know for certain that I did not have my emotions, they had me!

I was frustrated that so many people who bring nothing to the party lived and these beautiful souls did not. Old doubts and questions began to bubble beneath of surface. What does it mean to be human? Why embrace the journey when so much of it seems so incredibly meaningless? God is a fraud ! ... or at least and underachiever ... the human race is a failed experiment - nothing but a waste of skin and oxygen, including me! Especially me ... and my puny efforts to make a difference. If these souls were gone so abruptly, what matters?

I became fixated on loss and was trapped in a downward spiral. A year and a half ago I lost, not only my sister-in-law, but one of the first students in my teaching career when cancer claimed Pam’s life, another joyful soul. That loss absurdly led to the loss of important relationships that have yet to be restored. The avalanche had started to gain momentum. I revisited the loss of innocence in my divorce - the loss of my two best friends, one by death the other by circumstances I could not control - the loss of a brother in law and a nephew to drugs ... the loss of my first real coach and mentor - loss upon loss ... It was too much, too quick.

I moved past anger to apathy. I began “killing time” with T.V. and, of course, solitaire and drinking. For days I could not think about “the journey” or the wild possibilities. Soon the days became weeks - I was merely “killing time,” a rather slow, arduous - yet effective - form of suicide I suppose.

It is a short trip from Apathy to Despair, and I was dangerously close.

#Loss #Grief #Depression #Anger #Darkness