Heartbreak and Helplessness
My always fun, full of laughter sister-in-law, Jackie.
“Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well-preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming "Wow! What a Ride!”
Hunter S. Thompson
This is the second time I've written this blog post. Heartbreak and helplessness entered my small sliver of the world this summer, but when I attempted to write about it, the words just weren't coming together. And then I realized it was because I was trying to explain the pain and the lessons I've learned without sharing the events that landed me in this season. I was giving a half-hearted attempt at being real, and it wasn't working.
So here's the full story. It's painful to write. And terrifying to share.
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I believe there are two types of people in this world: those of us who watch movies only once, and those of us who can watch a movie countless times and enjoy it more with every viewing. Both of these people live in my home, and I am the latter. There are a handful of movies I have literally watched too many times to count. I know the characters, I can recite their lines, and most important, I never get tired of the story.
One of these movies is The Holiday (no shame). My favorite character is Iris, played by Kate Winslet, one of my favorite actresses of all time. This poor girl is plagued with what she deems the worst kind of love - unrequited love. I don't think Kate and I are alone in experiencing this kind of love, although luckily my first experience in this arena was in high school, when I quickly learned the difference between "lust" and "love" (no surprise, it turned out to be the former).
Even though my teenage heartbreak was painful, somewhere buried deep inside I had the wisdom to know this was normal, the wound would heal, and I should be prepared for this to happen again. And again. And again. The part I got wrong was thinking heartbreak was exclusive to dating. I am nearly 20 years removed from that first heartbreak and discovering the hard way that our hearts can be broken in ways much deeper than romantic failures.
Learning an Old Lesson
My heart was unexpectedly shattered this summer, lying open on the floor, exposed to all the elements of the world. I don't know how long it's been since you experienced heartbreak, but I was reminded through this experience of the uniqueness of heartbreak versus any other emotion.
In June, I received a text I had been dreading. My sister-in-law, nieces, and nephews were moving out of state. Even though I saw it coming, it still hurt like hell. This is the sister-in-law who squeezed my hand so tight as we walked down the aisle of her husband's funeral, I can still feel the crush of my hand today. I can still feel her shaking. I can still feel our shared discomfort of walking down that endless aisle while people stared at her with sad faces. She was 28 with a 3-year-old and 1-year-old in the front row of the church pews. In the nine years since that day, I tried so hard to be there for her and her beautiful children in whatever way she needed, but I always knew it would not be enough.
I knew her move was the absolute best thing for her and her family, but selfishly, I felt like I failed her, and like I was losing a piece of my heart. I learned that sometimes when we feel like we are helping, we are actually the ones who are most in need. Her kids filled my heart, my home, and the third row in my vehicle. And she became my safe place. She listened, offered perspective, and never judged. I did not realize how much I would miss her consistent presence in my life.
Six weeks later I was devastated to be removed from a job I deeply loved. I was - and am - beyond grateful to be given an opportunity to continue serving the organization that has become part of my DNA in a new way, but even my gratitude could not overcome the pain in those early moments. I did not recognize it as heartbreak at first, but as I struggled with the sense of loss, and the need to start over, I remembered this feeling. I did not expect to be heartbroken over something as intangible as "work."
It seemed like once my heart was open, the hits just kept coming. These first two heartbreaks were things that happened in my life. The rest were events happening around me, some of which you experienced as well. Charlottesville. Wildfires. A friend from high school who died of addiction. A friend who had to bury her granddaughter. A co-worker who lost her estranged mother. My grandmother's rapidly progressing Alzheimer's. Harvey. Irma. Maria. The Las Vegas shooting.
I learned the tough part about an open heart is that it feels more deeply and more precisely than a safe and secure heart. I felt - and still feel - helpless beyond belief by each of these events. I feel paralyzed by the amount of need around me, and am starkly reminded of my humanness, and inability to save everyone. This became my greatest heartbreak of all.
Beauty from Ashes
The beauty of heartbreak, grief, loss, and probably most forms of emotional pain is that it builds within us a deeper sense of compassion, empathy, and relatability. It creates a layer of wisdom, resistance, and toughness. It prepares us for the more difficult journeys that lie ahead, and not just for ourselves, but for the times when we need to carry others. Most importantly, however, I believe the size of our hearts is not determined by the amount of joy we experience, but through these seasons of hardship and authentic human connection.
Going back to my teenage version of heartbreak, there was no amount of girlfriend time, cookies and cream ice cream, Saturday Night Live reruns, or romantic comedies that could ease my pain. I simply had to wait it out. In my 30's, however, I know life is too short and waiting is not an option. I still believe time heals all wounds, but I also know from experience that true healing is multi-faceted, and usually involves taking ownership for my actions, self-reflection, and forgiveness. If I'm being honest, my first reaction is to run and hide from these things, for three good reasons:
Acknowledging my shortcomings sucks.
Owning my mistakes and failures sucks worse.
Forgiving when my heart is aching should be a crime.
But once I get past myself and remember the world does not revolve around me, I am able to embrace these steps and do the hard work necessary to transform open wounds into scars. Scars that tell a story. Our life story.
Many of us have seen this quote, attributed to Hunter S. Thompson:
“Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well-preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming "Wow! What a Ride!”
While everything about that quote is opposite of my natural inclination, it is a good reminder for us to leave nothing behind. Given the climate of our country today, I challenge us to love harder, even at the risk of being hurt. I challenge us to forgive freely, even at the risk of losing control. And I challenge us to fight the feeling of helplessness by doing something good, even at the risk of realizing we are the ones who need the help.
