What Loss Asks of the Living |
Recently, my friends, Paul and Susan, gathered for a holiday dinner. Susan’s mother, Adele, their son Zach, and other family members assembled, waiting to dig into a sumptuous meal—but one guest didn’t arrive.
Someone was missing—Susan’s brother, Mark.
Everyone waited, made calls, and sent text messages. Finally, after two hours, they called the police department in Mark's hometown. Could you do a wellness check? My brother is not answering his phone, and we’re wondering if something has happened.
Within minutes, the worst possible outcome emerged. “I’m sorry. We found your brother unresponsive.”
Mark was 68 years old. One year older than I am now. Mark was dead.
We all fear experiencing similar situations. Sometimes we wonder how we would respond. In fact, watching movies, reading books, and short stories is one way that humans steel ourselves and prepare our psyches for the unexpected. We love to consume tragedies, comedies, romance, action, and even action-adventure.
All of these genres serve as lessons:
But that’s fantasy. What my friends Paul and Susan suffered is real, and no amount of pretending about tragic accidents and misfortunes can prepare us.
When we hear about a life cut short, we experience a version of the same stages Elisabeth Kübler-Ross made famous in her book On Death and Dying (1969).
Kübler-Ross named the five stages of