A Love Letter to Anyone Navigating Loss

Dear Friend,

I know you didn’t think this loss would come for you now.

We never know when the big ones will arrive.

We spend our days anxious about so many things. But the ones that truly knock us over often come from nowhere. Like unwanted, obnoxious, heart-breaking guests in the night. Guests who are uninvited and refuse to leave.

And yet here you are.

You are not alone on this road. You are not the first to walk the sacred road of loss. Of change. Of aloneness in the pain. Of wondering if and where solid ground will come again.

With a loss like this, your old sense of life disappears. I know. I understand.

The way things were. The way you rushed and wandered through days that added up to years. That way has ended. Life has come to a halt.

It may seem almost a crime that the world around you keeps going.

Such is the way of great loss. It freezes time. But only for us.

If we are lucky, a few good friends may peer in through the window to our timeless box. Maybe even reach through, take our hand, and assure us they are with us.

The best ones know. They have been in their own boxes. They have known their own frozen time.

Know that the box is not the end of the story.

The box is not the story.

And neither is your life outside the box.

All of this is your story.

This loss will surely change you.

I am so sorry you are navigating this. And also, what a strange and beautiful mystery—the way the universe conspires to change us through grief.

I would not wish this for you. But I trust the story that is unfolding for you. In you. With you.

Take this dark time one day, one moment at a time.

The waves of grief will come. They will surprise you with both their arrival and their disappearance.

Some moments will feel almost normal. Some moments you may forget the loss at hand.

Others you may think you will not survive.

But survive you will.

It will take time to find new ground.

But remember: the ground you left also found you.

The day you were born into this world, into the great journey, the ground found you.

And the new ground will find you too.

Fog, confusion, defiance, grief, pain, laughter, wandering—whatever friend arrives next, greet them at the door as best you can. There is no other choice, really.

Hold the hands of the friends who pass by.

But most of all, hold your own hand. Hold your own heart. Give yourself the great gift of self-compassion.

In the hardest moments, sit as I do in mine, with your hands over your own heart, comforting yourself.

This is only a season.

You are not alone.

Looking for some support? If now is the time to consider coaching, reach out here.