There is an awful beauty to love, to grief. I believe there is always grief close to love, and love close to grief. In some ways, they can feel the same and in some ways they are different parts of the same thing. Real love always hurts, as does real grief, and yet both are such powerful affirmations of life that there is beauty in both of them. You cannot grieve if you don’t love, and you cannot love if you are not capable of grief.
The gift of animals is that they teach this to us, and allow us to see it, again and again, if we wish.
When people feel love, or grief, they sometimes forget that everyone around them feels these things as well. When I lose something, I remember that every person I meet, hear from, talk to, has also lost something – a mother, father, animal, child, friend, spouse, hope or dream. Years ago, I resolved to never talk about the people I have lost because I know now that every other human being has suffered loss and grief. And felt love also.
In this way, I feel connected to every person, not apart from them. At a store in Glens Falls, I saw a woman who was cold, brusque and difficult And I knew she had lost something. In my mind, I imagined going up to her and saying, “I know, I’m sorry,” but I suspected she would have burst into tears. It was revelatory for me to learn that grief is universal. None of us go through life without loss, none of us will get far in life without loss. There is an awful beauty to understanding that, because it is, in so many ways, what connects all of us to one another, and binds our spirits.
People rarely send me or others messages about the things they love. But I get messages every day of death, loss, illness, sadness and fear. It puzzled me for a long time, as I am not sure what to do with this feeling, but I have come to understand and accept it. It is a way of connecting, and people seek connection. Grief to grief, feeling to feeling. I am grateful to Mary Muncil for teaching me to hold out a cup and put this loss and pain in it, and not to drink from it.
But I am equally grateful to understand that grief is not something that I own, or uniquely feel. There is no one reading this who has not felt grief, and who has not felt love, and the wonderful beauty of both. It is, I think, key to understanding our own humanity. And it is of great comfort. I have no need to tell my stories of grief, because everyone has their own. In this way, no matter our posturing, we truly are all the same.
