So tonight I went with a friend to a birthday party for a woman who worked at my friend’s old job, a hospice center. Apparently I met the birthday girl five or six years ago at a candle lighting ceremony the hospice had for those who have passed on. Her and maybe one other woman at the party vaguely remembered me. My friend said, “this is Christine, you remember her from the candlelight ceremony”. The other women said, “oh, yes!”
As in oh yes, we know you, you’re the girl whose boyfriend died.
Yep that’s me ladies, thaaaat’s me.
Death binds people, even people you only met once years ago. It’s weird.
It’d be weird if all these women I met (or re-met) at this party tonight weren’t even somewhat morose considering their job–being around people everyday who are fucking dying. Yeah, I know you get hardened to that type of work, you have to be in order to emotionally get through a day.
These women weren’t sad per se (on the outside), but they did have an awareness, a kindness, a hidden somberness about them. Hidden, yet I could see it behind the comforting warmness they exuded. Of course these women are sad when one of their patients dies, they just have to put that aside in order to do their job.
Just made me realize what another friend said tonight and it’s so fitting – “it’d be sadder if it wasn’t sad”. He said that quote because he is about to leave his job that he loves/hates to come work with us.
My friend and these women have one thing in common – they are sad because they care.
I think of the loved ones of the death’s-door patients these hospice women pallaitate. How many of them are truly sad?
Of course there’s an expected amount of tears, but what if there aren’t any at all? No need to go to CVS and redeem that 30 foot long register tape of coupons for an extra box of tissues. What if it’s more like the dying person was an asshole? What if it’s more like “good riddance”?
When you lose something that sucked, it’s hard to mourn it.
If you leave something or someone or you get left and you’re not sad about it, what does that say?
A whole hell of a lot.
Jobs, friendships, habits, hobbies, relationships, they all eventually end, one way or another, like it or not. They end because it, they or you might be a non-tissue-needing asshole.
They end because things may just run their course or you get bored.
They end because you may get ghosted and ignored, left in the dark with no fucking clue of what happened.
They end because you may have a knock-down, drag-out fight.
They end because you may simply grow in two different directions or things may just not progress.
Relationships with anyone, anything, either constantly evolve, change, move forward or
they just end.
Nothing stays the same – EVER.
Take that to the fucking bank.
If you’re not that upset at the ending of something, then you probably weren’t that invested to begin with. But if you are deeply moved, changed, outraged, gaspingly-hand-wringingly- devastated, then that loss is ironically, one of the greatest gifts of all.
How can that be you say? How can such a gut-punching loss be good?
The loss is actually a gift, a beautiful gift, just wrapped in the shittiest wrapping paper ever. I know a thing or two about wrapping paper.
It’s a gift when it hurts because it means you actually cared. Congratulations, you loved something!
For those of us so hardened to life, so afraid to love, that’s a big deal. All the tears in the world can’t bring back that which you lost, but to have experienced love that is more searing than a lightsaber well, that’s what it’s all about.
“So it’s true, when all is said and done, grief is the price we pay for love.” – E.A. Bucchianeri
It would be sad if a loss didn’t make you hurt. Sad to realize, that this thing, person, whatever it is, isn’t missed, doesn’t miss you. Sad that the non-missingness means that which you lost apparently wasn’t what you thought it was in the first place.
I remember in the midst of splitting up with my ex he came over one day to pick up more of his things. He serendipitously left his phone right on the table in front of me and went into the other room. I know what you’re thinking…no, I didn’t go snooping! It was right there, like RIGHT THERE!!
His phone buzzed. Some girl was calling him.
I should have been sad.
And that’s exactly what I thought in that moment: I should be sad or angry or annoyed or…or…something! I should feel something!
So this girl ended up coming over and we got into this huge, outrageous chick fight–hair pulling, bitch slapping, wrestling to the death in an all out best of Jerry Springer moment.
Okay, just kidding. That would have been a great story though.
Nope. All I had thought was I feel nothing. Not sad, not angry, not hurt. All I felt was, good for him, he’s moving on.
I knew in that moment when I wasn’t sad about seeing my ex talk to another woman that our separation was the right choice. We weren’t right for each other, we weren’t each other’s person.
I begrudge him nothing. He’s a great guy. The feeling from that message was a sign though, a sign that I was on the right path.
So if ever faced with a choice, think about how you’d feel both ways, either keeping something or giving up something. Think about it, you already know. Which decision would you regret least?
Then there’s the things that are out of our hands, choices made against our will. Sorry to say, there’s not much you can do about that.
In the past I’ve tried to white-knuckle certain things, certain people, and yet, they still left me. It sucks a lot, like a lot a lot. But I see now why those things had to end even if I didn’t want them to.
Those weren’t my choices to make.
Not gonna lie, there’s always still a smidge of a twinge that the path could have been different, that those things could be brought back from the dead.
But such is not to be. And all the tears in the world now can’t change the past.
When things end and you’re truly, deeply sad about it, that’s the real pain. But that’s also the real growth, the way your soul truly evolves.
I know some people neck deep in pain right now and they don’t want to hear this rah rah bullshit. “Everything happens for a reason”, “it’s good for your constitution”, “ it makes you a better person”.
What they want to say is “fuck you and your positivity! Better person this!”
I’m still one of those people at times, times even more recent than I’d like to admit.
Yeah, I feel like that when I’m stuck in the muck of loss. I get it. You’re annoyed that you’re sad, angry that you’re sad, sad that you’re sad. “Fuck you cheerleader douchebags!!”
I get it, believe me.
But with all those shit feelings, hey, at least you fucking feel something, anything. It means you care.
The opposite of love isn’t hate, it’s apathy.
So fucking true.
So yeah, the real sad part about loss is if it wasn’t sad.
Just be thankful you found something you cared enough about to be sad about.
❤️
CM
5/9/23 (yeah yeah, I know I’m posting this on June 7th – procrastination reigns supreme)
