Secondary Losses — Grateful, yet Grieving
At this time last year, I was packing boxes and moving out of my home where I had lived for 32 years. It’s where my kids grew up, memories were made, and I continued to live for seven years after my husband suddenly died. I knew it was time. Moving from what I knew for 32 years brought change and grief. It was another loss amidst my major loss. We call them secondary losses.
If you put your major loss in the middle of a piece of paper and draw arrows pointing out, you can discover the impact of your loss in various parts of your life; one arrow would go to the impact on your family. My family went from four to three. Another arrow would go to your social life; I was part of a couple, now I am single. Finances can change, and responsibilities increase. Our loss affects all parts of us: physically, emotionally, socially, and spiritually. Not only do we grieve what once was, we grieve the loss of our future; dreams, plans, hopes of what was going to happen.
Adding up all the secondary losses is like emptying a shelf, taking one dish out at a time. After a few, you begin to see the removal of what was on the shelf, until there is a blank space. At first glance, it can be scary. We grieve what was removed.
Last year, as I grieved leaving my home, I cried next to the moving boxes. I went through the house the last week I lived there, and did a mantra, “this is the last meal I will eat here,” and “This is the last weed I will pull (gladly).” I was saying goodbye to a space that contained so many years of my life with my husband; memories came flooding, so I let myself grieve. As I grieved leaving, I also thanked God for all I did experience there.
Managing the secondary losses takes time. We’ve never been here before. We get to discover what to put back on the shelf, as we figure it out. Recognizing how life has changed so dramatically and how we have managed to keep going is a marvel. We need to be gentle, take our time, and let God come alongside as we keep going.
