The Grief of Transition

If there is one thing in life that we can all count on, it is change. Nothing ever stays constant. Not the weather, not the seasons, and definitely not the circumstances of one’s own life. Sometimes we are the ones who initiate the changes through the decisions that we make. Sometimes, it is the result of an event, such as an accident or something from our natural world such as a flood or an earthquake. And sometimes, the change is a result of decisions that have been made by others that end up directly impacting our lives.

Sometimes change happens quickly and forcefully, like the results of an earthquake. And sometimes, change creeps along more slowly, like the forest overtaking an abandoned cabin. In the case of a slower change, sometimes one doesn’t even recognise the extent of the change until one looks back.

No matter how the change is initiated or even how quickly the change happens, there is always a loss. Even when the change is desired and one that is for the better, it is still a loss of how things were. With any loss, there is grief. It is inevitable. Even in the event of a change to something better, there is a loss of the known and the loss of the predictable to which we humans really love to cling. And we are faced with the unknown. As exciting as the future can be, it can be frightening and unpredictable.

So, with any change, there is grief. There is grief for the changed circumstances. There is grief for the changed person. I can whitewash any problems and generate feelings of nostalgia. There is sadness. There is anger when the change is initiated by an external event, or when the decision that is made is prompted by an external event. Depending on the depth of the grief, moving forward into the future can be stilted, delayed, or even halted. Grief has to be processed or the effects of the loss will linger and colour everything and not necessarily in a good way.

People move in and out of your life as you transition from one phase to the next. And you will move through other people’s lives in the same way. This can only add to the feeling of uncertainty. It can feel so unsettling and anxiety provoking. And there is sadness and grief.

Sometimes an anchor is desired and a glimmer of laughter and joy is needed. A chance to feel like something is steady in the sea of change.

When I look back to when I came to Fort McMurray in the summer of 2013, I remember feeling so overwhelmed with all the changes. Northern Alberta was a very different place after life in Ontario and life in Atlantic Canada. I had a job in an industry that I had never expected to work in when I first began my career. The town was full of trucks and construction workers. I remember thinking that it could not be possible for there to be that many pickup trucks in one place.

And on a more personal level, within the first six weeks of living in Fort McMurray, I lost both of my dogs. The older one, S, was not quite thirteen. I had gotten him as a young puppy as I finished off my graduate degree and was embarking on my professional life. I dragged him all over the North American continent. He was the one constant in my adult life. That dreaded time came when I, as a pet owner, had to make the dreaded decision. He was ready and he let me know that it was time.

It turned out that his friend that I had rescued was not long behind him. H was nine and S was eleven when she came into our lives. It was a time when S was needing the extra company, and he adored H. He actually picked her and they made such a cute pair. A little over a week after S had his appointment, H ended up having to have her appointment. I was devastated.

There I was all alone for the first time in close to thirteen years. It was heart wrenching and I really felt so overwhelmed with all the change and loss.

My anchor at that time came in the form of a series of novels by Janet Evanovich. I had read the first one or two before I had left for Fort McMurray. I picked up the next ones in the series and proceeded to lose myself in the life and problems of Stephanie Plum.

If you have never checked out “One for the Money” and the subsequent novels, I highly recommend them. They are light reading and brilliantly crafted. They made me laugh to the point of crying when I really needed it. I guzzled that series like an alcoholic guzzles a bottle of booze. It helped to soothe the feeling of desperation that was threatening to overwhelm me.

And now, I find myself in another period of transition. While my current head space is nowhere near the same as in that first year in Fort McMurray, I do miss elements and people that are no longer a part of my life. I do feel the shifting sands and the foundation does not feel as solid as it once did. I do have M and I am enjoying the fact that we can spend more time together for the moment.

Luckily, there are more Stephanie Plum novels that I have yet to read. And so, I am back to being absorbed in the lives of Stephanie, Morelli, Lula, and Ranger. My one regret is that there are not as many novels ahead of me now as there were back then. For now, I will embrace the ones that I have left to read.