Loss and Hope

Friday, May 27, 2016

I am not okay.

I’ve come to this realization over many years of searching, questioning, and introspection. It seems to me that life is a series of losses, and the aftermath of those experiences are the things that define us as individuals. Dealing with loss and grief is universal, as much a part of life as breathing and eating.

For instance, the death of a loved one is always traumatic and overwhelming. There often is the horrible pain and suffering that the person went through, its effects on the person’s family members, and the arrangements that must be made after the person is gone. I have been through this a few times in my life, as I’m sure all of you reading this have, and I still feel the void that my grandmother, grandfather, grand-uncle, and aunt left in my life, even years later. I can even feel the loss of my pet dog who passed on ten years ago. I don’t think that pain ever goes away.

Even though death is probably the major source of these feelings, it’s not the only reason why we feel grief. Right now, I’m sad because four of my favorite coworkers have left or are leaving my workplace, and I'm still coming to terms with the fact that I won’t be able to work with them, laugh with them, joke and play around with them, or receive their sage advice when I need it. They’re still my friends, and I'llenging definitely keep in touch with them, but it isn’t the same. I love them all and miss them dearly, especially since they’ve left an indelible mark on my heart and soul. They taught me so much about my job, about life, and about myself.

As I’m writing this, I’m reminded of an episode of Joss Whedon’s vampire/paranormal detective drama, Angel, in which an ancient demon monarch known as Illyria killed one of the main characters, the brilliant and beautiful scientist named Winifred “Fred” Burkle, and took possession of her body in order to bring about a new age under her rule. What Illyria didn’t know was that her demonic army had perished in the eons since she walked the earth, and that Fred had allies who would try to stop her. One such person was Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, a former “Rogue Demon Hunter” who had fallen in love with Fred. Wes was there when she died and her physical body was hollowed out in order for Illyria to be reborn.

Needless to say, he wasn’t pleased. He pleaded with Illyria to leave Fred’s body, but it was to no avail. Finally, just as Illyria was about to summon her army of minions to conquer the planet, she discovered that her old domain was nothing but ash and dust. Wes was there, set to deliver the killing blow, but all he found was a creature who was, perhaps for the first time ever, confronted by grief and a sense of overwhelming loss.

At the end of the episode, Wes made the decision to be Illyria’s guide in the human world, perhaps against his better judgment. But he couldn’t say no to her, because she looked like Fred. When Illyria questioned him about this, his quiet, tormented reply of “yes” was devastating in its vulnerability and honesty. And then there's the end of the episode, which featured (in my opinion) the greatest and most poignant musing on loss I’ve ever heard:

Illyria: We cling to what is gone. Is there anything in this life but grief?

Wes: There's love. There's hope... for some. There's hope that you'll find something worthy... that your life will lead you to some joy. That after everything, you can still be surprised.

Illyria: Is that enough? Is that enough to live on?

Wesley's silence provided the only answer he could give.

Finally, I wanted to mention that I just saw X-Men: Apocalypse in theaters, and I thought it was brilliant. It was absolutely the film I needed to see last night, and it honestly reminded me of why I’ve always had a special love for these particular characters. The young cast was collectively fantastic, and I absolutely want to see all of these actors in their respective roles again. I’m also pleased to report that not only have Bryan Singer and Simon Kinberg fixed the ridiculousness that was X-Men: The Last Stand, but they’ve also repaired a certain feral mutant’s origin story and brought it much closer to the comic book miniseries on which it's based. I’m being purposely vague here, so as not to give too much away about the film, but I will say that I loved it. Maybe even more than I loved Captain America: Civil War. I also have to mention John Ottman’s incredible musical score here. His music enhanced this film so much, and it’s quite possibly my favorite out of all of his work. For the record, his Cerebro themes always make me tear up. I have no idea why.

Now, don’t get me wrong, there are flaws in this film, just as there are in every movie. But the acting and writing are solid, and the emotional arc of the film and the messages it imparts are important and valid. I believe that society needs more movies like this one, and I hope that future installments in the franchise continue to be as emotionally affecting as Apocalypse was. Given the events of the film's climax, I believe they will be. Good job, Bryan Singer and company. Don’t listen to the haters.

So, after all that rambling, I feel like this post has been a microcosm of my day yesterday. It started off really sad and kind of overwhelming, and it’s left me with a question: how do we cope with all of this suffering, this turmoil, and this sense of loss? How can we deal with all of that?

The answer that I’ve come up with is… well, I don’t really know. I don’t have an easy answer for you. I’m not an expert in psychology, so make of that what you will. I do, however, think that time heals all wounds, and that one of the best things we can do to help each other get through periods of grief and loss is to simply be there for one another.

I want to reiterate something I’ve said before on this blog. If you see someone who’s hurting or lonely, reach out to them. Say hello to them. Offer a hug. The simplest act could immeasurably impact someone’s life, and it feels good, to boot!

In the end, I may not be okay. Hell, I don’t think anyone really is. We’re all broken. We’ve all lost so much. That’s why we need each other. So if you’re hurting right now, know that you are not alone. Life is tough, and things are hard. We'll get through this together.

Have hope, and don’t ever give up. Always remember that you are not alone.

I’d like to dedicate this post to my dear friend, Shannon, and her grandfather, Paul Douglas Becconsall, who passed away on Monday, May 23, 2016. May he rest in peace, and may his loved ones find joy and love in his memory.