Loss: the fact or process of losing something or someone.
A feeling that entered my life with a sense of fear — one I lived every day trying to get over.
For as long as I can remember, loss has played a vital role in my life. As a child, I’d make sure to keep track of my toys and, as a teenager, my belongings. I’ve always kept the things I love close, and the people I love even closer. Growing up, it was the loss of all the things in my life that scared me, but, as I grew up, I realized how precious the people in my life are, too.
Every time I lost something that mattered to me, I found a way to avoid losing the next. When I first lost my grandpa, as much as I wanted to find ways to avoid losing my grandma, all I found was a familiar feeling of my fear in a completely escalated aspect.
For the longest time, I thought the loss of one would prepare me for the next. However, losing one has left me with an everlasting fear of losing another. My relationship with my grandparents has always been special to me; I’ve grown up living with them and being surrounded by their love and support. Losing one of them made me lose a part of me, and though parts of loss may repeat itself, the feeling is unique to each situation.
I’ve handled different types of loss in my life, and though parts have been similar, not a single one could entirely prepare me for the next. Even though loss can be devastating and impossible to prepare for, it has taught me more than I ever expected.
After losing my grandpa, I changed my priorities. I wanted to be able to spend as much time with my grandma as possible, because, in the end, memories are all we’re left with. When I realized losing my grandpa meant losing every little thing I associated him with, it left me with a deep sense of fear.
Before, the loss of a person wasn’t just losing a family member, it was the loss of everything they do for you, everything they say to you; it was losing everything you ever had with that person. That is the fear that has stuck with me since the day I lost my grandpa; the fear of losing that all over again, yet in the form of another person who happens to be the other half of the first.
The losses I have experienced may not be able to prepare me for the next, but it’s taught me how to push through. It has taught me what matters and how the loss of one doesn’t always mean the loss of everything. The touch of my grandpa’s hand on my head just like he always used to may not be his anymore, yet I still feel it through others. The love of my grandpa may not be his to tell me about anymore, but I’m still reminded of it every day. I may always live with the fear of losing the ones I love, but I also live to create memories that will stay forever.
