Loss . . .

So, I'm not very good at processing loss. Especially when it comes to people in my life. I'm not talking solely about death, I'm also including friends moving away or leaving. I realize that it's a natural part of the river we call life. Rule 1: Things change. I certainly don't have to like it.

I am fortunate to have many hobbies I enjoy: music, bike riding, swimming, water polo, birdwatching and - if I may - Facebook. Each pursuit has with it its own cast of characters, each person bringing to the table a unique and special quality. A necessary strand in a larger rope, a connecting link in a chain so to speak. When someone moves along, the chain is broken. A part is missing, it will never be the same again.

After someone is gone for whatever reason and the activity continues it's hard for me not to see an empty chair in the room. A chair that cannot and will not be filled. The magic is gone. It leaves me feeling deep sorrow. It matters little whether or not the change was a healthy one, my grief remains strong. I wait and watch the door, hoping that the missing person will walk through and all will be right, but it will never happen.

I heal very slowly from such things. Processing them minute by minute. I hate it, I wish I wasn't as deeply affected as I am. But I suppose that is who I am now. Someone easily injured. Perhaps it comes with the territory of being involved with people, building bonds and learning to love. Perhaps life would be simpler and less painful if I were to stop building friendships. I wonder though how fulfilling a life without love and friendship would be.

Maybe the pain is worth the effort.