In just a couple of days we will celebrate Valentine’s Day, ostensibly the most romantic holiday of the year:  ubiquitous chubby cherubs and big red hearts, candlelight dinners, gifts of roses and chocolate, perhaps lacy lingerie or dazzling diamonds, all accompanied with flowery phrases of undying love.  But what if the object of our affection has passed?  Has our love died as well?

“I’m Sorry for your loss,” is a common expression of condolence, but why do we consider death to be a loss?  When someone we love dies we haven’t lost them, we just need to re-imagine our relationship.

When someone has been an essential part of our life, there will eternally be a space only they can fill.  When their earthly existence is extinguished, we will never be the same and are forced to reshape our reality.

Deprived of the person we love we experience bereavement, a period of mourning and expression of deep sorrow, and then grief, a state that has been thoroughly researched and defined.  Experts conceptualize it in stages, in the fluidity of the way it ravages us, and in equations to stop its torment.  Despite all best efforts, it remains elusive.

It is one thing we have never learned to control; one thing we are unable to prepare for, to conquer, or to subdue.  We have learned to master weather patterns, fight ravaging diseases, and barricade what is most precious to us against untold dangers; but when it comes to grief, we have been continually beaten down and devastated.

When grief strikes, it leads into a valley where life is forever altered, and beginnings have to be carved out anew. Grief robs us of the innocent warmth that comes with knowing where we are headed.  It leaves us exposed, vulnerable and desolate.  Grief has a way of creating a vacuum that inhibits our ability to take a deep breath.

It is a common misconception that grief can be overcome.  The truth is that grief will always be present.  There will never be a day when we wake up and forget the missing element of our lives; but eventually the pain that accompanies this remembering will be less acute.

We need to allow ourselves, and others, the experience of grief in order to form scar tissue from its wounds.  First we must be able to acknowledge the hole it creates.  We have to look back and mourn all of the lasts we did not know were coming and feel the intense pain of the firsts that should be happening.  We have to look grief in the eye before we can ever wade through it.

Even though we may ultimately find other outlets into which we can pour our devotion and energy, loving someone who can no longer receive our attention and affection is heartbreaking!

Instead of using robotic phrases when grief assaults, saying “nothing will ever be the same” or “my heart hurts for you,” offer more genuine understanding and support.

Moving forward from grief does not mean it will disappear.  It will change shape and character, but it will continue to flow through our existence.  Admitting this constant companion into our lives is the first step in learning to survive its company.

Grief is also a measure of Love.   It equals the volume of devotion that once stood it its place.    Instead of trying to bury it, we should celebrate what it represents.  In its most excruciating form, grief is love that no longer has a place to belong. So remember that life may end but love goes on.

In the wise words of Dr. Seuss, “Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.”

Happy Valentine’s Day with Lots of LovEstelle