Many of us harbor hurts from withheld personal losses which, at the time, didn’t seem big enough to meet society’s minimal requirements for grief. The Catholic social activist, Dorothy Day, named the pain of societal isolation “the long loneliness.” Similarly, when we mourn something that others do not deem worthy of such grief, we suffer “the long loneliness of loss.”
I still remember when I was about eleven years old, walking into the kitchen and coming upon a sight that stopped me dead in my tracks: my Mother was tearing apart my Grandmother’s cookbook. Before becoming trash, to me this old book of handwritten recipes had been a treasure, a tangible link to family gatherings of people now deceased, some of whom I’d never known.
Afterwards, alone in my room, I tried to find comfort by telling myself “it was just an old book.” Though technically correct, logic did not help. Until writing these words, this story has been kept confidential out of fear that it would be ridiculed, mocked, or even worse, considered trivial by others. Over time I thought the memory would disappear. However, carried for years, it hasn’t.
Although this story is personal, my feelings are not unique. Other examples of "the long loneliness of loss" might include:
• Death of a pet – “it was just a dog… just a cat… just a hamster…”
• Moving – “why would you miss your old home? your new home is so much nicer…”
• Contracting an illness that might carry a social stigma – i.e. AIDS, lung cancer, diabetes, mental illness…
• Miscarriage of a pregnancy – “it’s for the best… you’ll have more children…”
• Death of a ex-husband/wife/partner – “it’s not as if you were still married…”
• Death of a dream – i.e. passed up for a promotion, not admitted to a school and/or program, unrequited love…
• Loss of a personal item – “you have insurance…you can buy a new one…”
Deeply held emotions seem less threatening when shown the light of day. Though others might judge, remember no one else has the right to decide what emotions are appropriate. Only you can define what holds meaning in your life.
Releasing the pain of loss is actually simple: allow yourself to grieve. Grieving honors hurts by giving them a voice. It transforms. Over time, something softer emerges, something that is lighter and easier to bear.
For example, sharing my story has brought my grief out of hiding. Transferring long-stuffed feelings onto paper has been very healing. There are many other ways loss can be grieved, such as:
• Create an altar or memorial
• Tell someone about it
• Make a donation to a charity to honor the loss
• Use art to express feelings
When someone else is suffering a loss, how can you help? Be a witness. Listen without judgment and validate emotions. Refrain from giving advice.
Most of us instinctually want to fix broken situations. Yet nothing can reclaim a true loss; nothing can turn back time.
Our life stories are sacred and deserve respect. If allowed to share our true selves, barriers diminish and grief fades. In the end, all we really need is someone to care. As Dorothy Day states,
“We have all known the long loneliness
and we have learned
that the only
solution
is love.”
___________
SOURCE: Dorothy Day, The Long Loneliness, New York, Harper, 1952 / 1980, p. 286.
