Mourning in Many Flavors

[Moving--source]

My best buddy of 30 years moved near me recently with her children. It's been fun. But it's also been hard to watch her whole family go through mourning. They probably haven't thought of it as such because of society's very narrow view of mourning. Most people think of mourning as coping with death, their own impending death or someone else's, often coping a death that has already passed. 

[Flavors of Mourning--source]

But there are so many other flavors of mourning and grief. If your expectations and hopes are yanked from you, your life as you know it fundamentally changed (by choice or otherwise), you will often go through a grieving process. You still have to process the changes, which often comes with deep pain. But because the people around you don't see it, many times, you feel like you're feeling wrong, that you are suffering for no reason. Anyone who has undergone loss deserves acknowledgment and empathy if they need it. 

[Joy Shatters-source]

My buddy's marriage is on the rocks. She had expectations of a future together, and she's facing loss of her expectations and hopes. Her kids, meanwhile, are reeling with the loss of their friends, their comfortable life, their home of 13 years, their peace, nearness to their father. But the situation is such that none of them really have a choice. And that's hard. One of them embraces and celebrates the change. This, too, is a valid response. But the others are struggling more. All they knew before is just cut off. And there is a deep sense of mourning for all that was. 

[Support-source]

What can I do? It's not my loss. Really, it's a gain because we've been strategizing on how to live closer together most of the years we've known each other. But I can feel their pain, show empathy. When I was younger, we moved a lot. I have nothing but empathy for this kind of loss of everything, all friends, all comfort from before. I can be their friend while they seek new friends. I can be there for them and pray for them. There's always something an outsider can do for those who have lost. 

When Your Greatest Fear Takes Another Shape

[My former greatest fear--source]

My greatest fear used to be spiders. However, after I lost my closest brother and my baby and had 16+ miscarriages in a row, I learned there are much, much worse things to fear than (most) spiders. All spiders can usually do is give you physical pain. Emotional pain that comes with the loss of family members makes a mere spider bite, even one that lands you in the hospital, trivial by comparison. A spider may leave holes in your flesh that will most likely heal. The world-shaking loss of loved ones hollows you out and leaves no part of your world untouched. 

[My Disney Princess: Source]

For 12 years, my greatest fear has been to lose a family member. People talk about helicopter parenting derisively with reason. But my husband and I became predator drone parents to defend ourselves from ever dealing with that kind of catastrophic loss. All of the emotional scarring of loss was made much, much worse when CPS attempted to destroy my family with false accusations that tried to tear us apart. That, alone, is a very long, ugly story some would find farfetched, and some would nod along to because they've had their own experiences with that kind of nightmare. It doesn't help that my brain became a worthless fog after my catastrophic losses. I understand brain fog is pretty normal. That's right. I've become Marlin and Dory from Finding Nemo. I don't recommend it. It's stressful and frankly terrifying. It's exhausting to live in a world where not just loss but any kind of loss becomes a very real possibility at any time. 

[Another kind of loss--source]

So when a family member recently nuked their family with the big D, becoming far more destructive than necessary without careful thought to the consequences, I felt like a brand new black hole tore into my carefully duct-taped semi-comfortable reality. The way this family member destroyed their family brought threats of CPS way too close to home. It's a long, ugly story that has only begun. There are not likely to be any winners, only losers.  And it brought back all the pain, all the trauma of my past.  Worst of all? We come away from it wondering how many family members may be lost to this black hole. The fears and traumas that seemed carefully buried have reared their ugly heads again.  

[Heartfelt prayer--source]

Just thinking about it leaves me in shock. I don't know how to emotionally tread through this minefield. I didn't cause it, but I have only begun to ponder what consequences these events may have. All I can do is pray for all involved and hope that's enough to bring a miracle.