Think about it: How many people do you know who suffered a tremendous loss in the last year and a half?

For me, every single person I've interacted with has lost something or many things precious since the beginning of the pandemic.

Every. Single. Person.

Do you remember when this all started? When we were glued to our phones watching the horror of New York City and the loss of life there? Each day wondering if we would be next? 

Many of us lost loved ones.

These have been sudden, gut-wrenching losses, but there have also been slow, insidious ones we've endured. 

I got COVID, and three months later went to visit my doctor with lingering fatigue. I described my symptoms as mild, but after further probing, he said, "almost three weeks with a fever is not a mild case." I replied, "well, compared to death, I felt grateful."

We've lost too many other things to count—time, money, friendship, and so much more. No wonder we are not okay. 

My most profound grief was many years ago when I lost communication with my small children. It was so crushing that I could not get out of bed and needed to be cared for.

And so it should be. 

We as a culture have a responsibility to honor those in grief with care and understanding. Time and space are necessary to process the most bittersweet of all emotions.

Because grief demands attention.

The problem is that our society pushes us to show up and work hard and to do so while with a courteous smile. 

And so, below the surface, the pain continues, and it grows. Until one day, we cease functioning altogether or lash out at everyone around us.

If grief is calling, listen. 

I know this is hard. Our deepest fear is that if we fully feel the loss, we will be broken apart. And I'm here to tell you, that is exactly what will happen.

That is the purpose of grief.

Because after a while, when you allow it, or when it is finally forced upon you, this breaking wide open of our soul allows something magical to emerge: we understand the meaning of life itself.

And at that point, and for the rest of your life, you will have something far more valuable to give to the world than accomplishing tasks.

The only way to feel better when we are in grief is this: let it hurt.

Wrap yourself up in a warm blanket with a cup of tea and hear the words inside of you. They are giving reverence to what makes you human: you love, you need, you are in pain.

You will feel like you can't go on. And this is because you can't. You'll never be able to be that happy again and also there is more waiting for you. Things will never be the same again, and you will experience new joys.

Having worked with others and having gone through enormous loss myself, I can tell you this: nothing is more beautiful than a human being who has been through this experience and come out on the other side.

The Velveteen Rabbit

One of my favorite books is The Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams Bianco. It is the sweet story about a stuffed rabbit who wants to become real.

He gets his wish, but only after he experiences the loss of the little child who loved him.

This, too, is what happens on the other side of grief. The process makes you finally real. Understanding death makes you alive in a way you never knew before because you learn to value what is truly most important. And that, my friend, can never be taken from you.

Those of us who have lost honor you. You are not okay and are becoming better. This hurts, and it is beautiful.

Take care of yourself.

With so much love, Tami