As we get older various forms of loss become more of a part of life.

The loss of people is especially hard, but it’s mostly because it means life in the future for ourselves is going to be less great. For instance, when one of my dear friends died a year ago the loss manifested in several ways, but one one of the weirder thoughts is that it represented an end to any possibility of us playing music together again. How selfish of me to think that way, but I did. I do still. I lost my friend. I also lost my drummer. And the music will never be the same.

When it’s absolute (death) the pain doesn’t ever go away fully, but you learn to accept. When the loss is more of a decision (divorce, falling out with family or friends, etc.) emotions are much more complex and often prove to be even harder to sort through, at least based on my experiences. Eventually that stuff gets reconciled in our minds as well, but the man-made losses seem like grave injustices to me, in just about every case I can ever think of. It’s tormenting. Not that they aren’t sometimes necessary, but they are only so because of our flaws. And that’s what they come to represent.

Part of the joy of life is in building a collective of people who can be called friends (including family). Our own little garden, if you will. Some may come more in or out of favor from time to time. Some may be lifelong, close friends. Some may just be more like acquaintances that we rarely talk to or occasionally do something with. But they all add to richness that is the fabric of our life. In some cases just the mere idea that they are out there somewhere provides some comfort. Why should we ever step backwards from that? A hallway of locked doors doesn’t make for much of a journey.

Treat your friends and family carefully. Try to be there when you think you are needed. Respect and appreciate them for who and what they are — not perfect. Let them choose who and what they care about. Don’t ask them to choose. Whatever you think may come between you…figure it out. Let death be the machine of loss. That sucks enough without us doing more of it to ourselves.

My friend and drummer, Jim. Miss you. Every time I pick up an instrument.

8 Responses to “Loss”

  1. 1 Vivian September 20, 2012 at 12:49 pm

    Choked up with tears in my eyes. So many friends lost to time and distance as well in a time when I was too busy to nurture the relationships.

    • 2 David Stewart October 12, 2012 at 12:19 am

      I know. I have a lot of those, too. Just didn’t make the time or take enough of an interest. When you’re young and dumb you don’t have any sense for how irreversible the path of apathy is.

  2. 3 Brian Rowe October 10, 2012 at 7:59 pm

    I’m glad I “came up” the way I did. Surrounded by people such as you, Jim, Mike, and all the others truly molded the person I am today. I thank you for your friendship, I thank you for taking the time to write this, but most of all – I thank you for your friendship.

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