Memory over suffering.
I was recently talking with a friend who believed that letting go of the pain of losing his wife would mean letting go of the last thing she had given him.
I completely understood where he was coming from. In fact, I felt the same way right after my sister died.
This is a common belief among people who have suffered a loss. But is it true? And where did that belief come from, anyway?
I remembered a story.
A scout master was hiking with a young person who had lost someone dear. Quietly, the scout master collected rocks along the trail, placing each one into his pack. When asked why he was making his load so heavy, he explained that each rock represented a cherished memory of the person who had died.
“Yes, they’re heavy,” he said, “but I choose to carry them because this weight is proof of how much they meant to me. And a pack with no rocks at all would be far heavier to bear.”
There it is.
We’ve connected the memory of our loved one to the heaviness of rocks along the path.
This is both the power and the danger of believing other people’s stories. We adopt their connections instead of forming our own. That’s what I hope you’re doing when you read these emails, testing them against your own experience. This is my experience of loss. You get to decide whether it fits into your life.
What if the memories of our loved ones’ lives are more like hot air balloons, and the memory of their death is the rock?
Every time you think about how they lived, tie a balloon to your pack. And if, at the same time, you can drop one rock, your pack becomes lighter much faster.
I started this process many years ago. I began talking more about how my sister Lauren lived; her personality, our relationship, our memories growing up together, our love for one another. The more I talked about her existence, the more I remembered. And the lighter I eventually felt.
It takes time to trade balloons for rocks, so give yourself space to play with the idea.
When you start remembering the living, you may begin to realize how selfish grief really is. That might not sit well with some of you. But grief is about you remembering what you’ve lost, not about the blessing your person had on your life.
Start trading balloons for rocks and see what happens.
Try this Simple Practice:
Rocks and Balloons
Find a quiet moment. Sit or stand, whatever feels easiest.
You don’t need to close your eyes, but you can if that feels comfortable.
Step 1: Notice the weight
Bring to mind the moment of their death.
Notice where it lands in your body.
Imagine that feeling as a rock in a backpack.
Step 2: Remember the living
Now recall a moment of how they lived.
A laugh. A look. Something ordinary and true.
Imagine that memory as a balloon tied to the pack.
Step 3: Carry both
You don’t need to drop the rock.
Just notice how the balloon changes the weight.
Step 4: Return
Take one slow breath.
Let the images fade.
Go on with your day.