The Salt Path

“It was a near physical struggle to put the sense of loss back in its box.”

-Raynor Winn, The Salt Path

There’s a book I’m reading right now that a friend brought from England when she visited in the spring. I only found it again during our back-to-school clean up after a long, lazy summer, but when I read these words, I knew: Timing is everything.

Timing is everything.

A familiar feeling of realization washed over me, like it does when I make sense of something I've been wrestling with. You see, these past two weeks of getting back in to the rhythm of school have been hard for me. I knew it was going to be more challenging than usual with one child starting high school, another middle school, and my youngest riding the bus to elementary school without a sibling for the first time. I thought I was prepared, but I’d forgotten: Loss is insidious.

Loss is insidious.

But now I see it: in the freedom of summer that has come to an end, in my quiet house that only recently felt too noisy with incessant chatter, and in my time that is following a schedule other than my own. I know I’m not alone in experiencing these losses, so why was I feeling something more? And then I remembered: Loss is not felt in isolation.

Loss is not felt in isolation.

As a bereavement group facilitator, I have seen this in experiences other than my own. It’s as if Grief wants to remind us of all the things he has stolen from us. It’s a vague and exhausting feeling, which is why the description of a “near physical struggle” resonated so deeply and I was able to make sense of it all.

The new school year has brought with it the echo of losses past. In the effort to learn all things football and band, I mourn the feeling of cheering on my favorite rugby team; in the watching of my daughter playing soccer, I mourn the opportunity to teach her how to play netball in the backyard; and in the carpool line, I mourn the memory of walking to school with my sister and our best friends on Stead Avenue.

Grief can be complicated, but in the wrestling with it, I find I am usually able to come out on top. With gratitude for new experiences, opportunities to see the world through my children’s eyes, and empathy for us all as we try to make sense of life and loss.