The fragility of life (part I)

Publisher’s note: The following is the first part of a series of messages from the OSF Home Care Messages of Hope booklet, “the fragility of life”.

The fragility of life is easy to forget, right? We do our days of stress on small things, such as sink dishes, our overwhelming workload or oil change for the car. All these things tend to consume us.

In the whirlwind of our daily life, we lose track of the precision of life until we are faced with the loss of someone who is dear to us. Suddenly, we are struck with something that we all try to forget, our mortality. Faced with fragile life, it changes us forever.

My dog, Joe

As a child, I remember losing my dog, Joe. As a six -year -old girl, I had a significant loss. He was my first friend and a crime partner. Oh, the adventures we have experienced together. I clearly remember that my father sat and explained to me that Joe was dead.

“He’s in a better place now,” he assured me. “A better place?” I asked. “Well, what better place than here by my side?” While tears sank on my face, my father tried so desperately to heal my pain and exclaimed helpless: “We will make you a new expensive. Don’t cry, “he continued,” everything will be fine. “

What just happened at that time? In my father’s sincere and desperate attempt to heal my pain, he tried to instantly replace my loss and involuntarily encourage me to hide my feelings. Wow! Our basis for how to manage someone’s loss or something expensive for us is deeply rooted in our experiences, isn’t it? When did you suffer a loss for the first time? In what ways have you been conditioned to overcome it?

It even seems logical. I lost my dog ​​and now I need a new one. Well, this loss was not easy to replace and I must say that I despised this new little puppy. He was not Joe. Even more difficult than my childhood experience of Joe’s death is the loss of a friend. They can never be replaced.

You may be wondering: “How long this intense pain, this horrible feeling of loss lasts?” Well, sorrow will take as long as it needs it. It could take months or more years, but I can assure you that Sting, this indescribable vacuum, will decrease. “In time” is what we often hear. “Over time, we will heal”, right?

Yes, but it’s more than time; It’s time to actively cry the death of your beloved. The time spent just “trying to move on”, getting lost in the whirlwind of daily life, deleting your feelings (“don’t cry, it will go!”) And isolated mourning are means that we may have been conditioned to cry, but they do not allow us to cure properly. Finally, he will catch up with you.

Last update: November 6, 2018