Lost Boy

Loss (noun):

The state of being deprived of or of being without something that one has had: the loss of old friends.

Detriment, disadvantage, or deprivation from failure to keep, have, or get: to bear the loss of a loved one.

 How long is bereavement or grief supposed to last? Is there an acceptable or required amount of time to mourn your loss? Do the rules of etiquette provide a gradatory timeline or a socially acceptable duration to be emotional or emotionally bereft? What if you 'exceed' it? What if you're not sure if you ever went through it? How much time will it take to heal the wounds that time is supposed to heal? What do you say when someone tells you to "Get over it"?

And we're not even talking solely about death.

There are so many kinds of loss. Lost chances. Lost loves. Lost opportunities. Lost friendships. Lost years. Lost dreams. Lost youth. Lost affluence. Lost circumstances. Even lost keys! . . . I digress. The list goes on and on. Each type of loss seems to have an acceptable reaction, but not a standard period in which to act. Losing your grandparents seems to be a shorter period of mourning than losing one's parents unless that is mitigated by having loved or hated one or more than the others. Losing your job seems to garner more pity than sympathy than say losing your cat. Losing a love definitely creates more deprivation than losing a friend.

 What does that say about us as a species when losing your car to theft garners more sympathy than the loss of a spouse?

In the past year I lost a job, a boatload of acquaintances, several friends, a few loved ones, a ring that was given to me by a dear friend, a lifetime's worth of collectibles and keepsakes, and my sense of self. I've received more than my share of pity, heartfelt sympathy, and a frighteningly large dose of "Aren't you over that yet?"

The loved ones who were in my life and now are not. What gifts they brought to me will never be forgotten & will always be treasured. They have made me a better person for being a part of me and I hope I gave them the same feeling in return. Those feeling will never go away.

The loss of friendships hurt and hurt deep, but both sides had their reasons. Both sides thinking they were right and the other was wrong. Both sides said their peace & both sides said things that never should have been said aloud. Both sides drew blood & were wounded in turn. On my part . . . I'm very sorry for the things said in anger.

The ring . . . oh, that's hard, but in the end it is only an object no matter how valuable. It's the sentiment behind it, the joy of the moment, and the love behind it that can never be replaced. I'll miss the sparkle, the weight of it on my finger, but if I close my eyes . . . it's still there.

The collection and the collectibles . . . that hurt. Some of those were a part of my life since I was an infant, they were symbols of success and of happiness. They were symbolic only in a way that they captured memories and moments, small victories and major milestones. Some were bought, created, or commissioned purely as an investment. Some were only worth the memories associated with them and then they were more valuable than gold. "One man's treasure is another man's trash."

The acquaintances that disappeared in the wind. You weren't even fair weather friends, you disappeared when the cash did. I know where you went and I'm glad you took your dramas and baggage with you. Despite the costs, I learned my lessons.

The job, well, that's been a struggle but I refuse to give up. I will find something that will not be a job, but a career. Something I will enjoy & be excited to wake up each morning knowing I will be doing something fulfilling.

My sense of self . . . Now that's the hardest one to replace, it's definitely a work in progress. This is something I have to work on rebuilding every day. The anchors that I've counted upon are no longer there or their foundations will no longer support me. I'm learning to build a new foundation, incorporate the anchors that have stayed with me throughout the storms, and to look within for the new anchors that will see me through to a brighter more confident future. I'm also learning that I'm not as alone as I made myself believe, I have the support of individuals that truly care.

So while I may not want to ever grow up . . . I'm not a Lost Boy any longer.