Personal Reflections on Love and Loss
By Susan Knight | Reflecting on my own experience with love and loss — a response to the 3-part series on the subject by Brian Sankarsingh.
Written by Susan Knight | Seeking Veritas Columnist | Sankarsingh-Gonsalves Productions
Writer and poet
recently published a series of articles exploring the theme of love and loss:It's difficult to adequately describe the depth, precision, potency, and accuracy of the sentiments contained in these three articles. For anyone put off by traditional approaches that oversimplify the grieving process while implying everyone moves through it in the same way and at the same pace, this series provides a refreshing alternative. These articles capture the breadth of how grieving, and ultimately healing, unfold for each individual. Sankarsingh brings tenderness, compassion, honesty, and relatability to each article, further enhanced by the inclusion of poetry. I highly recommend reading all three articles, as there’s much to take away from each one. Be it thought-provoking ideas, fresh insights, an entirely new perspective, or simply validation of what one has already experienced and knows firsthand, there is something in this series for everyone.
For me personally, the subject matter hit home especially hard not just because I experienced the loss of my own partner, but also because the anniversary of his death happened to coincide with the publishing of the articles. I read Part 1 of the series when the anniversary of Derius’s death was just a few days away. It was a difficult read under those circumstances due to how it captured the experience of loss so deeply and vividly.
From Part 1 – An Enduring Love:
“Her heart ached in a way she had never known before.” Reading this reminded me of an email I sent to a friend a few days after my partner’s death. An excerpt from that email:
My mind says:
You can cry all you want, but he's not coming back.
It's pointless to focus on things you can't change.
Like it or not, you have things that need to be done.
Death is a natural part of the life cycle, that’s just the way it is.
My heart says:
The pain is so raw, I feel it all over. I feel sick to my stomach.
The pain is so all-encompassing.
There's got to be a way to undo/fix/change this.
This is some type of error; I just need to figure out a way to correct it.
I’ve had some hugely unpleasant situations in my life that I would not want to relive, and I’ve felt sadness when people I loved passed away. But the intensity of the pain I experienced when Derius died — that overwhelmingly raw, all-encompassing, broken inside, sick-to-the-stomach feeling — was unlike anything I had felt before. What shocked and overwhelmed me was the physicality of the pain, how it coursed through my entire body and felt as if something was breaking or being damaged inside of me.
There’s also the mental turmoil and confusion that occurs when such a loss comes unexpectedly. The sense that what is happening isn’t real, that some sort of error has occurred that just needs to be rectified in order for everything to return to normal.
From Part 2 – Loss:
“When a spouse or partner dies, for example, the daily rituals, conversations, and small shared moments that once defined the relationship are gone… We are no longer the same person without the loved one, because the dynamic interplay of love and shared experience that once existed is now impossible.” Those daily rituals, conversations, and small shared moments are indeed very special. When they’re gone, it leaves such an empty space.
Even though several years have passed, I still miss the little things Derius and I shared. I miss the way we would take turns making tea for one another after dinner. I miss how we used to spend our evenings playing Scrabble and Cribbage together. I miss the beautiful cards he used to give me (he always had a specific reason for choosing a particular card) and I miss the beautiful, affectionate sentiments he would write inside them. I miss how he used to call me as soon as he left work to tell me about his day. I miss chatting with him about the little things each of us observed as we went about our daily lives.
It's so easy to take that “dynamic interplay of love and shared experience” for granted when you’re actively immersed in it, as it becomes as natural as breathing. Through that interplay and those shared experiences, you create and inhabit a private world with the person you love. When the person dies, that special world you inhabited disappears, vanishing into thin air, leaving you empty and alone, lost and disoriented.
From Part 3 - Is there Love after the death of a spouse:
“But grief can also create space for new kinds of love to emerge. This may not be the same kind of passionate love experienced with a spouse, but it can take the form of companionship, deep friendship, or even self-love. The heart, once shattered by loss, may heal in ways that allow for love to be expressed differently.” I could never have foreseen it, but to my surprise, I have found this to be true.
When you combine the healing from grief with additional work and inner healing more broadly, you have fertile soil for growth and transformation, including a more mature understanding of love and increased capacity to express love in different forms. I fully believe that when the heart truly heals (as opposed to hardening, or becoming embittered or resentful) not just from grief, but from deep wounds of any sort, this creates an opportunity for love to be experienced and expressed differently, with an increased capacity and willingness to share one’s heart more openly and freely.
There’s something else quite valuable that often emerges in the healing stage following intense grief and loss: the sober realization that we don’t have all the time in the world. The fact that any exchange I have with someone could be my last one isn’t just some abstract concept, it’s very real to me.
I value the time I spend with people immensely because I grasp that our time is limited, and tomorrow isn’t guaranteed. None of us knows how much time we, or anyone else, has left. While many find that line of thinking unsettling or unpalatable, thus preferring not to venture there, I find it empowering. I love the clarity it brings for setting priorities and influencing how I want to engage with people. For me, this awareness imbues my interactions with a sense of specialness I find extremely meaningful and satisfying.
And it results in a powerful conviction that if I care about someone, it’s important that I convey this in whatever manner I can, rather than holding back or putting it off until tomorrow.
About the author: Susan Knight | SGP Featured Writer | Contact the author: @ http://skfreelance.com
Susan is certified health and wellness coach with a focus on personal growth and inner wellness. She was a regular contributor to Social Work Today Magazine and is a featured Health & Wellness Columnist for SGP.
Sankarsingh-Gonsalves Productions. 2024 ©️
What a viscerally powerful piece. Loss, grief and healing are all natural parts of the human condition but they are so equally devastating that we are afraid of having any conversations about them. Yet it is in conversation that we realize that we are not alone and that there is life after the passing of a loved one. Often people are so alone and afraid to be otherwise that they remain in the loss and grieving states and never heal. Yet I feel we do our loved one an injustice to not pursue healing. Would they not want that for us?
Love this article Susan. Your willingness to grow out of your grief is truly admirable in its bravery. It is so much easier to let ourselves drown in our grief , but by choosing to grow and allow yourself to develop a broader more mature understanding and capacity for love, yourwere able to transform not just your perspective on death, but more importantly your perspective on life and what truly matters. Thank you for sharing such a deeply personal experience Susan and the lessons that came from it.