We’re not strangers to death around here. Four grandparents in 18 months, my aunt less than a year before that and most recently our first kitty baby.
I’ve always accepted death as a part of life. It’s just another stop on the journey and while the heartbreak for those of us who remain can be unbearable at times, we all eventually learn to move on.
I’ve sat with friends as they mourned the loss of a much wanted pregnancy. I’ve walked with friends after the loss of a parent. I’ve held the hands of loved ones as they mourn the loss of a friend from another life.
But death takes on a new meaning when that loss looks like you. It’s easy to separate yourself from death when it’s an elderly person who had a good life. A soldier giving their life in war. A child never given the chance to live. It’s easy to take that sorrow and put it away in the back of your heart.
But when loss looks like you, when the world loses someone just like you, it feels different.
My world has lost an amazing woman. A woman I was thankful to call my friend during our years in Dublin. A woman who was strong and more giving than anyone I’ve ever known with a beautiful positive and uplifting spirit.
But she was also a wife. And she was also a mother. My daughter used to play alongside her son. They had funny little nicknames for each other and my children have literally walked in his boots that were passed on to us.
My heart breaks for that family. For that (not so) little boy who has lost his mother. For that husband who has to find a way to manage his grief and raise a child without his wife by his side.
When loss looks like you, it hurts just a little bit more.
I’m currently dealing with my own personal loss. I just had to comment because your post heartbreakingly- and beautifully- captures the complicated nature of death and grief. I’m kind of at a loss for words because your words were so perfect.
Thank you, Wen. I’m glad that it helped you and am sorry for what you are going through as well.