Secondary Losses

At this time last year, I was packing boxes and moving out of my home where I had lived for 32 years. It’s where my kids grew up, memories were made, and I continued to live for seven years after my husband suddenly died. I knew it was time. Moving from what I knew for 32 years brought change and grief. It was another loss amidst my major loss. We call them secondary losses.

If you put your major loss in the middle of a piece of paper and draw arrows pointing out, you can discover the impact of your loss in various parts of your life; one arrow would go to the impact on your family. My family went from four to three. Another arrow would go to your social life; I was part of a couple, now I am single. Finances can change, and responsibilities increase. Our loss affects all parts of us: physically, emotionally, socially, and spiritually. Not only do we grieve what once was, we grieve the loss of our future; dreams, plans, hopes of what was going to happen.

Adding up all the secondary losses is like emptying a shelf, taking one dish out at a time. After a few, you begin to see the removal of what was on the shelf, until there is a blank space. At first glance, it can be scary. We grieve what was removed.

Last year, as I grieved leaving my home, I cried next to the moving boxes. I went through the house the last week I lived there, and did a mantra, “this is the last meal I will eat here,” and “This is the last weed I will pull (gladly).” I was saying goodbye to a space that contained so many years of my life with my husband; memories came flooding, so I let myself grieve. As I grieved leaving, I also thanked God for all I did experience there.

Managing the secondary losses takes time. We’ve never been here before. We get to discover what to put back on the shelf, as we figure it out. Recognizing how life has changed so dramatically and how we have managed to keep going is a marvel. We need to be gentle, take our time, and let God come alongside as we keep going. 

‘‘Grateful Yet Grieving’’

FREE ebook by Pam Luschei | Click HERE To Download

Continuing to Live

“Everybody needs beauty as well as bread, places to play and pray in, where nature may heal and give strength to the body and soul alike.” John Muir

Early in my grief journey, I went on a mission to find ways to survive. I had no clue what I was doing in the midst of a place where I had never been before. I played a scene in my head that went something like this: “While on a train, thinking I was going to arrive in Paris, the train abruptly stopped in the middle of a desolate desert of nothingness. I kept shouting to the train as it left me there that this was the wrong stop! I’m supposed to be going to Paris with my husband!” As I recall this scene in my head, I feel the familiar feelings of my early grief: shock, sorrow, sadness, and fear.

One tangible way I found to help me in those early months was to get outside. Walking, hiking, and moving my body was a part of my healing.

Another way I’ve found to heal was traveling. Three months after my husband suddenly died, I went to Hawaii with my two adult children. It was actually going to be a trip my husband and I were to take for our anniversary.  I kept the reservation. Was it hard? Of course. Was I sad? Of course. But it was good.

Traveling became a way to process my pain and “leave the scene of the accident,” as a widowed friend who also travels says. New experiences bring beauty that heals our souls and bodies, as John Muir says. It’s a way to continue to live after we’ve lost our loved one.

Back to the scene in my head where I’m left in the desolate desert; I discovered what I didn’t expect; another train came by to take me to where I had not signed up to go. There were other people on the train who welcomed me and sat with me. As I looked out the window, I saw beauty in different ways. I had been rerouted into a new dimension.

Loss changes the course of our lives. Loss opens the door to a different future. Loss offers unexpected experiences as we continue to live. And we discover we don’t stay where we started.

‘‘Grateful Yet Grieving’’

FREE ebook by Pam Luschei | Click HERE To Download