Love who you have before you love who you lost

Losing people is never easy, and it often comes in many unexpected forms. It is not just in death that we experience the profound pain of loss; friendships can sometimes fall apart, romance can fade into nothingness, and families can feud over misunderstandings or disagreements. Each of these situations is hard to process and can leave big, lasting scars on our hearts and souls. I experienced all of this and more last year, and I was not mentally prepared for any of it. Are we ever truly ready for such heartache, though?

I suppose you could say it all started to happen the year prior, back in 2022. The year kicked off on a positive note, vibrant and full of promise. Like many, I made the standard New Year's resolution, but let’s face it—I spectacularly failed at keeping it, lol! However, everything took a dramatic turn in April of 2022 during a trip I took to Mexico with my sister and daughter. What began as a fun getaway quickly transformed from simply struggling with a failed resolution to facing unbelievably dire circumstances. While we were enjoying our time in Mexico, my youngest child experienced a horrific car accident that nearly took his life, turning our trip into a nightmare. Scrambling to get the three of us back home from Mexico proved to be an exhausting challenge, but, in the face of adversity, God opened every possible door for us, and we miraculously made it home in less than 15 hours. Parents, I tell you—nothing truly prepares you to witness your child hooked up to tubes and monitors, their small body covered with scratches, deep bruises, and their own dried-up blood. He was just 10 years old at the time, such a young age that made it all the more heart-wrenching. But to make a long story short, against all odds, he made a strong recovery, and today, he is right by my side, filled with resilience and strength.

The path to recovery was not easy for him, but it proved to be even harder for his father. His father was there on that fateful day when they pulled our son out of the crushed car, covered in his blood, and placed him into the ambulance where he coded twice before reaching the hospital. My sons father never got that haunting image out of his head, and it marked the beginning of his slow unraveling. This is a part of the story that does not end well. My child and his father were never the same after the accident that took so much from us. Amidst the grueling physical recovery, my baby suffered from relentless nightmares, debilitating anxiety, and a persistent touch of paranoia that lingered like a storm cloud. Tragically, my son’s father, too, suffered in silent agony. Heartbreakingly though, his heart could no longer bear the weight of a grief so heavy, and it ultimately stopped beating. He passed away in July of 2023, leaving behind a void that feels impossible to fill. I was so deeply engrossed in working on my son’s recovery that I never truly stopped to process what had happened to him, to myself, and to his father. Losing my son’s father, who was also my dearest friend, pushed me over an edge I never knew I was teetering next to. It reopened wounds that I had thought were long healed. It hit me like a tidal wave that just a year prior, we almost lost our baby, but now my son and I had lost his father forever. I was engulfed by guilt, anger, sadness, fear, and an overwhelming sense of loneliness, and in the chaos, I felt I was losing myself. I blacked out a few times, leaving me with missing chunks of time in my memory. It was as if I was going through the motions of life while inside, I was a complete zombie, detached from everything around me. I went numb—completely numb. I’ve always been good at putting on a great front for the world, all the while dying silently inside.

I did not allow anyone to really get close to me. And because of this emotional wall, I ended up pushing my partner away, and then instead of patiently giving me the time and space I needed to sort through my feelings, he reacted by pushing back in frustration. We stopped focusing on each other’s needs and inadvertently shifted all our attention to our own individual needs. This led us to behave in a terrible manner toward one another. Ultimately, our relationship came to an end. In many break-ups, for reasons that hardly make sense, people tend to lose friends throughout these tumultuous times. Unfortunately, I lost a couple of friends who chose to simply walk away from me after my break-up. I still find myself unable to fully understand that decision, and no matter how much I might want to, I cannot change the outcome. I do miss them dearly though. Another significant casualty of my break-up was losing my youngest sister—not to death, and not the sister I traveled to Mexico with. It is my heartfelt opinion that my sister and I experienced a complete misunderstanding and we only made it worse. Instead of taking the time to listen to each other’s perspectives, we regretfully chose to turn our backs on one another. During all this emotional upheaval, which only spans a mere four months, my daughter made the big decision to move her family out of the state. I did not lose her in a literal sense, but it sure feels like it deep down in my heart.

So where do I go from all this? I am still heartbroken, grappling with emotions that seem to ebb and flow like the tides. I feel anxious all the time, as if a storm is brewing just beneath the surface, and I am super sensitive to everything around me, but overall, I am functioning, somehow getting through each day. My youngest child and I have grown closer, bonding in a way I never expected during this turbulent time. My other sister, who I went to Mexico with, and I have grown closer too, sharing stories and laughter that lighten our hearts. In fact, my brother and I are getting the chance to hang out more often, and we are growing closer with each interaction. What I learned from this difficult and horrible experience is primarily that I truly need to speak up to my circle of people and let them in. Because if I had done this sooner, my relationship, my friendships, and my bond with my sister may have survived the storms that came our way. At the very least, these break-ups would not have gotten as messy and ugly as they did. Another story for another time and may explain some of the roots of my anxiousness and the super sensitivity I am left grappling with. I also learned who is really in my circle. You have heard the saying, and seen the memes, “When things get tough, you learn who really has your back.” There are many different versions of this phrase, but it rings true for me. My break-up revealed so much, and it was both heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time. Nonetheless, it is incredibly important to clearly communicate your feelings, I believe. Not in the heat of the moment, where words can sometimes get twisted, but rather, take time to process your feelings and then let your true circle in—the people who matter most. Not just how you are feeling, but also how deeply you feel about them. Life is funny sometimes. It has a way of teaching us lessons we already knew but often chose to ignore. Tell your people you love them often—like, a lot. Also, when life is teaching you that vital lesson, do not carry it alone; reach out and let your real circle in.

CL