A Season Of Loss

It seems like so many of us connected to yesterday's blog. Could it be the gray of winter? Everything is so drab. It's cold.

Life has lost a lot of its colors. Or do we see it that way because we are going through a season of loss?

I was trying to explain that to a friend who knew Leroy well. She commiserated with me, but truthfully, if you're not going through it, you can't possibly feel it.

Laurie Hirth, you have made such giant strides moving on in your life without Neil. Then, boom ... two steps forward, ten steps back. Sasha, Eileen, Patty — you get it. Whether you're anticipating what's coming or are in the heightened sense of sadness. You get it.

Some of you saw it as a bump in the road. But it feels more like a shift in the grieving process. Early on it was a heaviness that could not be shaken. Pressure in the heart that wouldn't allow me to breath.

Now, it's being alone. And alone isn't fun. It's not the kind of alone that can be filled by calling a friend or going shopping or watching a movie. This "aloneness" comes from missing Leroy. Plain and simple. I'm in the missing part of this process. He left a crater behind where he once stood. That's the way my friend described it, and she's right.

Stan, you say you miss him and didn't even know him. Not true. Every day on this site, he shared a piece of himself with you and many others. You knew him well. You are right to be missing your friend.

Comments

 

Please keep your community civil. All comments must follow the NPR.org Community rules and terms of use, and will be moderated prior to posting. NPR reserves the right to use the comments we receive, in whole or in part, and to use the commenter's name and location, in any medium. See also the Terms of Use, Privacy Policy and Community FAQ.

About