Mourning a version of life that didn’t happen
I learned that an ex died earlier this week. I was feeling conflicted emotions, since at one time, I cared deeply for this person, even though things ended poorly. Out of curiosity, I asked the robot overlord (generative-AI) how appropriate it would be to mourn an ex who died, when things between you ended on a negative note. Here’s what ChatGPT offered:
“It sounds like such a heavy, tangled grief to carry. A relationship that ends in pain and conflict can leave so many unanswered questions, and when the person dies, you’re left holding a lot of that alone. It’s not just about mourning him—it’s also mourning what could have been different, mourning the hurt that was never repaired, and maybe even mourning the version of yourself that lived through all of that.
It’s okay if your grief is mixed with anger or resentment or even numbness. You don’t have to forgive him to mourn him. And you don’t have to mourn who he was at the end—maybe you’re mourning who he was at the beginning, or the life you hoped for before it all fell apart.”
The idea of mourning a version of my life that didn’t happen – the notion of what might have been – feels eerily familiar to how just about every day since Jan. 20 has felt. We’ll never know what our country would look like today if Harris/Walz had been the winning ticket, and there’s a profound sense of grief accompanying that. Each day the stock market careens farther out of control, legal residents are snatched up and shipped off to prison in another country, critical funding for research and education are axed, historical sites and records are being whitewashed, and fellow human beings who just want to live their lives in peace are told that their identities are non-existent.
It feels like a dystopian, alternate reality. My grief about what is happening under the current administration is certainly mixed with anger and resentment, and part of me wishes that I could feel numb about it, rather than sleep fitfully with nightmares. As author John Pavlovitz describes, we “damn-givers” aren’t getting much rest these days.
I certainly don’t feel grateful that the relationship with my ex was irreparable; yet, positive things have occurred in the wake of it. I learned a helluva lot about myself through that experience, and besides, I never would have met my generous, caring husband who demonstrates his love and commitment to me every, single day and makes me feel like a priority.
Life isn’t a trade-off of disappointments and “blessings,” but I believe that especially when things feel chaotic and awful, we should be deliberate about finding things for which to be grateful.
Take last Saturday, for instance: MILLIONS of people gathered at more than 1,400 different locations to participate in the Hands-Off protests. That’s giving a damn!!
Just as I’m unable to change the negative aspects of my personal past, I’m also unable to change the past 78 days of our country’s history. I can still give a damn, though, and do what I can to positively affect the future.
References & Further Reading:
John Pavlovitz, Blessed are the Damn Givers