What Are We Supposed to Do Now?

The days that followed were a blur; everywhere the children and I turned, there was Clinton. There is the business of death that becomes an almost necessary distraction after someone passes. I threw myself into making phone calls, obtaining passwords, creating lists, and ensuring that I had access to all of our accounts. I remember going to the courthouse, practically in my pajamas, where it was business as usual for everyone else; it was so strange to be around people who had no idea what had just happened to our family. 

Friends and family came and went, and I will never forget the tremendous generosity of everyone, including people we barely knew–making and bringing food, donating money, and praying. If you are someone who watches the news and wonders about the goodness and faith of people in this world, wonder no more! So many of us question the existence of God during a time of loss and suffering. I wasn’t spared this statistic. But then, I thought about the hundreds of hands who came together to feed my family, to bow their heads and get on their knees for our peace, to rest with my children in their rooms while all of them cried the tears of true devastation and loss. God couldn’t prevent Clinton from dying, but He gave us every one of those people who put aside their own busy lives to comfort us and to bring His love. God gave us Clinton in the first place.

If you are reading this after recently suffering a great loss, or if you are almost a few years beyond that life-changing experience like I am, I write this not from the other side, but from the same side as you: grief is eternal. But so are the impressions that a single life has made. I do not think one ever heals from losing a person integral to his or her life. For a little while, we live in the limbo of a paradox: as we move forward to honor our loved ones, each step feels like a step farther away. And so we hesitate. We are all players on a team that experiences a Pyrrhic victory: how do we make the best of our lives using the gifts from one of our greatest players, who is no longer here?  

For so many of us, I know this seems an impossible task. For so many of us, we feel like Sisyphus, whose rock will never be stilled at the top of the hill. It's as if we are being punished for something we couldn’t control or prevent. The battle is unwanted and seemingly impossible to win. There are too many secondary losses that accompany the loss of a major player in your life. But there are blessings too. Lots of them. However small, I hope those blessings have found you.

Secondary Losses So Many of Us Face:

1. Whether or not you can stay in the same home

2. Losing income, adjusting your lifestyle (Survival)!!

3. Parenting alone (I find the teenage years with boys especially unfamiliar and challenging)

4. The loss of the future you imagined with your spouse (especially if you were on the cusp of retirement, and what you dreamed that would look like when you could be empty-nesters together)

5. Friendship dynamics that have changed because a lot of your friends are married and doing their own thing, and doing things with other couples

6. Friendship dynamics that have changed because some of your friends are divorced and are in different places with loss and relationships

7. Just being ALONE, when you never used to be; this is not the lifestyle you chose or wanted

8. A certain awareness of milestones for your kids, and trying to understand what they might be feeling--added pressure to be the "everything" parent

• What has been the hardest secondary loss for you?

• What has been a blessing, however great or small?

• If you've had a different type of loss in your life, what secondary losses have been a part of that?