When No One Remembers

If you’ve had at least one trip around the sun since your loss, you may have felt that no one remembers. Perhaps the anniversary of his passing came and went without a phone call or text message from anyone. Or maybe it was his birthday or your wedding anniversary or some other special date on the calendar. You might wonder where, exactly, are all those people who said they would be there for you.

On the days that hurt the most, the silence is deafening.

The silence adds to the loneliness, and it becomes clear that while your loved one was dearly loved by many people, it is exclusively your world that crumbled. The days that have so much meaning are carved into your soul in a unique way.

Of course, we know that people are busy with their own lives, but the silence still stings.

But let’s be careful about what we might make that silence mean. It’s tempting to make it mean that he’s forgotten; that his life didn’t matter; that everyone has already moved on. Thoughts like these add suffering to the pain of an already difficult day. They’re probably not true at all, and they definitely don’t serve us.

The two most powerful truths about life (and especially life after loss) are: (1) We simply can’t believe everything we think; and (2) we get to be the editor of our thoughts and decide what thoughts to think on purpose.  

So, if you’re making the silence on a difficult day mean that your beloved is forgotten, it’s a chance to be “on to” your brain. What else might be true?

• Perhaps others remember, but they can’t find the “right” words to say.
• Maybe they think they would be doing you a disservice by “reminding you” of such a difficult day.
• It’s feasible that he is thought of often, by many.
• Our not-grief-savvy society has no idea that it would be helpful to reach out.

It helps me to think back to my pre-loss self. I can remember the assumptions I used to make about those who were grieving. Not once did I mark the anniversary of someone’s death on my calendar and then reach out to their spouse the following year. The same is true with wedding anniversaries and birthdays.

I would have hesitated to mention it, thinking that I would be rubbing salt in a wound. I certainly didn’t know the “right” words to say on such an occasion. If I remembered the occasion, I probably said a prayer for that person, but as far as they were concerned, I was among the silent.

When I think back, I wonder whether, in my ignorance, I said something unhelpful, or if my silence was interpreted as uncaring. I had no idea that if I had reached out, I would be saying, “they mattered, they’re missed, they’re not forgotten.” What a gift to the person whose soul is forever marked with profound loss. I simply didn’t know.

Now I know that unless you know, you don’t know. I try not to hold people accountable for knowing what they can’t possibly know. In fact, I’m glad for them that they don’t know.

The occasions have come and gone in my 9 years post loss. Sometimes a friend will text me and other times I don’t hear from anyone. But I know without question that certain people have him on their hearts just like I do. And I rest assured that he is never forgotten because he left his mark on so many people. With every breath, we remember.

If you can’t shake the loneliness of life after loss, I see you. I’ve recently added a group coaching offering that offers an instant tribe of people who get it. It’s called Life Reconstructed, and it is all the tools and resources I wish I had in my own journey. Simply click here  and we’ll see if it’s a fit.