Suffering Is Not “Optional”

Ironically, it has been those who have grieved that have not given me advice on how to get through it.

A lovely and sensitive woman I met through all of this told me about the day her husband left to take their two children to school and then about the phone call she received telling her that all three had died in the same car accident.

“I can’t tell what to do or how to do it, Jim,” she said, almost whispering. “I can’t tell you how long you will suffer. What I do know is that you need to put one foot in front of the other. You need to continue living.”

One of the most brilliant legal minds in Mexico invited me to his home recently, “Jim, I took my family to dinner one evening and my six year old son died of salmonella poisoning. I know what you are feeling. You are profoundly sad and feel like your life has ended except for the heartbeat. I can’t tell you how to shorten the process of grief because I don’t believe it can be shortened. Just know that life goes on and, like it or not, your life will go on and I hope that you will find something to be happy about.”

Another friend of mine lost his wife of 42 years, the mother of his children, his best friend. “You don’t think you will make it through. But you will.”

No prescriptions. Just positive predictions based on their own horrific experiences.

On the other hand, there is an oft-repeated quotation I hear from those who have never felt the sadness and hopelessness and fear we call grief: “Pain is required. Suffering is optional.”

When I hear that I know that the person mouthing those words has, to this point in their lives, been spared grief. I know that pain that cannot be stopped, and that has no prospect of relenting, and eliminates one’s future, becomes suffering. Automatically. It is not optional. Whether it is the death of a child or a lover around whom you have built a plan for the future, pain becomes suffering at the moment you recognize there is no way to stop it, that those who are lost are not coming back and you will never find anyone like them again. Your life will never be the same. Your dreams will never come true.

Never.

The truth is this: suffering may change forms over time but it never stops.

You may habituate and learn to focus on other parts of your life that bring joy and satisfaction, but eventually you have to go home and turn off the lights. It is then the images of a life unfulfilled, the injustice of a life taken too early, fill your mind and send you for the vodka and the Xanax if only to draw you into merciful unconsciousness where you pray that your dreams will spare you from your reality.

The woman who lost her husband and children in the same moment and the brilliant lawyer who saw his six year old son die, and my friend who tragically lost his wife of four decades to cancer, are all remarkably positive people. It is not because they have forgotten. It is not because they don’t still suffer. Rather, I believe it is because life provides only two choices: live in the present or end your existence. And, interestingly, it is those who have experienced grief who don’t condemn the latter choice for some. They elected to continue. They came out the other side. But the memories, the suffering, continues. Always. Happiness for some who have experienced grief may be out of the question, but they have learned to be satisfied or least settle for what is happening.

For most, the light is still worth the candle. I am not there yet.

Subscribe here

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

No Way Back To Eden

Image
It has been a year since Lorena, my love, my partner, my hopes and my dreams, died. It seems like yesterday and an eternity. I have grieved. My sadness, punctuated by hopelessness and anger, has been unrelenting. Friends ask whether anything has changed in the year since leukemia ended her life and our future together. Nothing really, except that I have gotten used to being alone, really alone. I cry daily, often in public, and am no longer ashamed. Tears and regrets have become somehow normal, another example of man’s inexorable ability to habituate to any circumstance, no matter how wonderful or terrible it may be. I spend most of my time at home, the one I bought to live in with Lorena for the rest of our lives, a home filled with photographs, shadow boxes, her things, our memories. She is my first thought every morning and my last thought every night. I do not will my circumstance, but accept it without self-pity. It is simply the way it is. A wise friend, who also
Read more

Fifteen Months, Fifteen Days

Image
Fifteen months and fifteen days ago my life ended. Or, I thought it had. The woman I loved, Lorena Alcala, died of leukemia. It was only then that I understood Camus’ admonition: “There is but one truly serious philosophical problem and that is suicide. Judging whether life is or is not worth living amounts to answering that fundamental question of philosophy.” I pondered that problem for months. I read innumerable books and articles on grief, all of which assured me that I was not insane to think about such things, but rather, normal, that grief is a “process” and that while I would never “move on,” I would, one day, learn to live again, that I would decide life is, indeed, worth living. Today is that day. Just as Lorena taught me what mature love means, the pain that has tracked me like a wounded animal since her death has taught me that life is worth living, that there are people who care that seem to come out of nowhere, people who have helped me selflessly along this mo
Read more

On Being A Loner

Image
“The individual has always had to struggle to keep from being overwhelmed by the tribe. If you try it, you will be lonely often, and sometimes frightened. But no price is too high to pay for the privilege of owning yourself.” - Friedrich Nietzsche (1844 - 1900 ) The term pack animal is used to describe a beast of burden used to carry heavy loads over long distances such as donkeys and mules. The term also refers to animals that live and hunt in packs such as wolves and hyenas, The best example of both types of pack animals is the human. Like mules, most of us put on blinders each morning and carry the load, doomed to spend a large majority of our lives compulsively working at jobs we despise and where success only breeds more work. Ironically, most work so that one day they don’t have to work anymore. When not laboring, the pack gathers at designated times and places, e.g., parties, meetings, to recite long worn out aphorisms, nod, agree, and seek approval and validation in t
Read more

Rules For White Boys Dating Latinas

Image
Written by another divorced and damaged expat living in Mexico. He asked it be published anonymously if only because he desires to live a little longer. There are not many rules when it comes to dating Latinas but here are three of the Big Ones: No machismo bullshit. Latin women, especially Mexican women, have seen, and felt, all the aggression, manly moves and heard all the bragdocio they can tolderate. That’s why they are going out with you, gringo. Acting like Billy Bad Ass will do nothing but insure you go home with the same hard-on you showed up with. If you can’t quite grasp this concept, pretend your mama is in the backseat or at the table watching it all. Act like that. 
And don’t talk so much. Listen. In many, if not most, cases you will learn what a tough life really looks like, feels like, and you will humbled. Humility is attractive. “Te quero” and “Te amo.” Know the difference. They both technically mean “I love you,” but you get no credit for mincing or confusi
Read more

I did nothing today

Image
From the patio . . . I did nothing today. I breathed. I sat. I made lunch. I walked my dogs. I looked at the sky. I scribbled. I guess that is not nothing, but none of what I did today was on a “to do” list, a calendar, or, in any way, planned. What I did today was exactly what I wanted to do at the moment I wanted to do it. It was life in stream of consciousness. What I did was slow. And present. For the first time in my remembered life, I was not focused on a goal. I was not trying to accomplish anything. I was not trying to change, judge, criticize, alter, control, or manipulate anyone or any circumstance. I have been aware for some time that life has no interest in my plans or dreams and so I dispensed with them. At least for today. I did not try to impress anyone or be worthy of praise or even acknowledgement. I did not try to justify my lack of productivity to anyone, including myself. I ignored my frightened ego. Indeed, I did not try t
Read more

An Obituary For The Only Woman I Ever Truly Loved

Image
I have never written an obituary. I have never wanted to. Especially not for my lover, my partner, and the only woman I ever really loved. I met Lorena about two years ago. She told me on our first date that she was a “house woman,” meaning she liked to spend time at home, knit, crochet, and wasn’t much of a traveler except to the beach now and then. She was refreshingly honest saying she was not looking to date or party but to find “my life partner.” She had been divorced 10 years after what sounded to be a tough 27 year marriage. . We continued dating and over a year or so I felt something for her like no other woman I had ever met. She filled a hole in my heart I didn’t even know existed. We didn’t have a lot to talk about or many common interests, but we became inseparable. A few months ago we decided to move in together and began looking at homes. None were quite right until we walked Into a French contemporary in the countryside outside San Miguel de Allende and
Read more

I Love Her…

Image
I have been married twice. My first marriage lasted 20 years and my second 25. And, on reflection, I am ashamed to admit that while I was fond of both, in retrospect I was in love with neither. My first marriage could be summarized in a photo of two children pretending to be adults. She was, and is, a fine woman. The truth is she deserved better than she got. My second marriage was pure heat. Nothing less, but mostly nothing more. When I began dating Lorena Alcala after being separated a year from my second wife, I knew. I knew that everything I had ever believed about love was altogether wrong from the start. While objectively she was not the woman I was looking for, I knew deep within she was the woman I wanted. I needed. She said the words first. “I love you, Jim.” And I felt ashamed I had not told her first. Because I did love her. And I knew it. I was a coward. I knew I had a good relationship, the best I had ever had. And so I feared something bad was going
Read more

Merry Christmas From The “Greatest Nation”

Image
I will keep this short. I had planned to spend Christmas with my one true love, Lorena. Death intervened. It has been six months now. Lorena died too young and was deprived of a beautiful life. And I was deprived of the life I dreamt of. And I have cried a million tears. This year my parents invited me for Christmas. Hard to believe, I know. My parents are still alive. 90 and 99. And so I am here. Back in what they, and so many Americans, call the “greatest nation.” A couple of hours ago I went to get them a sandwich at Subway. Standing in below freezing weather was this woman. I sat in my car and watched as people came and went from the sandwich and neighboring shops with not one giving her a dime. I approached her and handed her some money. She asked God to bless me and I smiled and thanked her. And then the tears began. Not hers. Mine. I heard myself say, “I am so sorry. No one should have to live this way, to do what you are doing. Not here.” She put her sign
Read more

So, What Was So Special About Her?

Image
I’ve written a lot, perhaps too much, about the grief that has devastated me since the death of my love, Lorena. This will be the last on this topic for a while. But before I finish, I need to answer a question that many of you have asked, “What was so special about her?” She was simple, straightforward, and honest. Her ego was always muted, under control, if it existed at all. She didn’t want to compete with me or anyone else. She enjoyed just sitting together. She didn’t need to be entertained. Her life wasn’t a running travelogue. If we went someplace, fine. If we didn’t, also fine. She thought my habit of bringing coffee to her in bed every morning was the kindest thing ever. She spoke well of others. She was beautiful and liked to be pretty but when I told her I thought she was just as beautiful without makeup, she seemed relieved and stopped wearing it except when we went out. She didn’t discuss politics or religion. She was self-motivated. She got up and went
Read more