When the “Is” Becomes the “Was” {Living through Loss}

Loss.

It happens in all walks of life. Loss doesn’t discriminate. Loss doesn’t care if you are rich or poor. Loss does not care if you are young or old. Loss is devastating.

It happens in all different ways and in all different circumstances. It happens many times in one person’s life or not at all.

I first began learning about loss as an adult when my first marriage fell apart. 

The 10-year marriage I had that was an “is” became a “was,” and left me hurt and broken. I felt this incredible hole in my life and didn’t know how I would go on. Panic attacks, anxiety attacks, and depression all accompanied that loss, and it took years to work through that loss.

Loss continued in my life, with an early miscarriage followed by two failed adoptions. Each time, these losses were followed by deep emotional grief.

Several years ago, after a long battle with Alzheimer’s and years of saying a slow goodbye to my mother, she passed away. The deepest loss I had ever felt. The woman who gave me life was now gone. The woman she “is” is now referred to as the woman who she “was.”  Even though it was years ago, you just never know when that grief will sneak up on you.

The most recent loss in my life was this fall at the end of October. My dad passed away unexpectedly. Just that morning, I had talked to him twice, ending each conversation with “I love you.” And then very quickly, this amazing man that “is” became “was.” I still have not fully grasped the loss that is so fresh. I still check my phone to see where he is, ask Siri to call Papa’s cell, and scan my texts to see if I missed one from him. There is a deep loss.

Loss can change who you are. Loss can change how you see things. Loss can change you.

I’ve learned to live with loss. 

The marriage that “was” taught me so many new things about myself and ways to become better. The loss of children that “were” prepared me for the children that I have now and continues to grow me in ways of compassion and empathy. The loss of my parents that “were” has challenged me to be the best I can be, and carry on what they instilled within me to be better and make a difference.

Loss has changed how I talk, and that may be the hardest part. “My dad is,” to “My dad was,” are still hard words to say. That feeling of loss never goes away.

Loss is part of life. If you are fortunate enough to feel loss, then you know you were fortunate enough to have some of the most amazing love and experiences in your life.

I’m learning with each new day that I feel loss, it’s because I am blessed.