Regeneration

When I was a kid, which was conveniently during a time I lived in Hawaii, I became obsessed with starfish. What stunned me most was their ability to, rather quickly, shed and regenerate a limb. I wondered if it hurt to do this, or if it was some sort of everyday occurrence. I noticed the same thing about geckos and their tails and sea cucumbers that would vomit out their own internal organs. All of these biological feats are meant to be life-saving, so I imagine shedding a limb or spilling out one's guts isn't taken too lightly in the animal kingdom, but I cannot tell you how many quivering gecko tails wound up in my hands sans rightful owner.

Fast forward to a couple of months ago. I lost someone who I deeply admired and respected. A month ago, I went to her memorial service and sat through nearly three hours of people saying why loved this woman and how much they would miss her. During the entire service, I watched two of her best friends, with whom I was much closer, hold each other and try to make it through the entire thing without completely melting away (3 hours equates to buckets and buckets of tears for anyone not familiar with such services).

It occurred to me that a couple of years ago, they used to be a gang of four. For reasons that are unimportant here, one of them was marginalized due to work issues. Now, these two women were mourning the very real and physical loss of a second, with just the two of them to anchor themselves. They were bridesmaids at each other’s weddings and godmothers to our departed friend’s twins. They spent holidays together. It seemed to me that it must be the equivalent of losing a limb. How do you stay afloat when you are missing a limb you have relied on all this time and always expected to be there?

I watched all of my departed friend’s loved ones cling to each other for support and strength, never realizing that we have our own form of regeneration. Since then, I have watched her family go about their daily business. Five days a week I pass her house and see her husband buckling the kids in the car. I see her friends out and about with other friends and have watched her workplace move on in her absence. Most days, I even see smiles on the faces of those she left behind. I know from my own experience that the grief one experiences after loss waxes and wanes. It becomes less biting over time, though on most days you can still feel it there if you look for it, or even if you don't. But recently, I have been struck by the idea that if you do things right in this world (by this I mean not alienating everyone around you), when you lose someone, especially someone who is like a limb, it seems that the universe has a way of helping you regenerate that support, love and community. You, of course, have to be open to it and have to accept it. And it obviously doesn't happen overnight. But the limb will return to you.