I had lunch the other day with three friends. After we spoke, I thought about our conversation and determined we’re four losers. I don’t mean that disrespectfully, but we’ve each lost someone in the past several months and share the common bond of loss.
Kathy’s husband woke up one Monday morning and announced he was leaving and wanted a divorce. The declaration came out of the blue with little or no warning. The split came and the aftermath has been difficult to handle.
Paul has been married twice. He and his first wife divorced and his second died last January. She had been ill for five years and needed his support throughout. He lost her a little at a time.
Sandy’s husband suffered a brain aneurism last spring. He lived for two weeks before he passed. She had some time to deal with the loss, but the hurt is just as painful.
And then there’s me. Ruth and I spoke one Tuesday morning, making plans for a trip to California where I sit today. After our conversation, she went off to do “her thing” and she never came home.
All four had a different type of loss, but they’re each painful. We spoke briefly of our circumstances and made the common observation that sudden loss may be worse for the survivor but better for the one who passes. Losing someone a little at a time is hard on everyone. While I wish I would have had a “heads up” regarding Ruth, I don’t know what I would have done with it. What would we have done differently? Would we have traveled more? Visited the kids more frequently? Treated one another differently? Spent our time and money more lavishly? Settled on one place to live? Been more frugal?
My dad died in 1999. My mom took him to the hospital one Saturday in September because he was dehydrated, and he never lived at home again. I sat with him for most of the following day, wondering what would happen next. He had Parkinson’s disease for several years and its grip was tightening. A few days later, the doctors determined he’d need a feeding tube and he asked me what I thought. I recall asking him if he was ready to “give up” or wanted to “keep going”. He opted for the latter. That’s when I said, “Then you’ve gotta get the tube.”
He spent his last nine months in nursing homes and hospitals. I visited him every week and reconnected with the man who raised me. I had spent most of the past thirty plus years raising a family of my own and connected with my parents when it suited me. We saw each other frequently, but I’m sure not as much as they would have liked. Dad’s illness, and the fact that my children had lives of their own, helped rekindle our bond. I learned new things about him, and he learned more about me. We shared our time and that’s when I realized how valuable time truly is. While I knew it, I sometimes failed to follow through with the lesson learned.
Losing someone you love is a challenge, no matter what the circumstances may be. We need to focus on the here and now, because none of us knows what tomorrow may bring. I understand that more now than ever. Celebrate now and take care of the people that matter most while you still have the opportunity.