Don't miss the message in hysteria.

“If you’re hysterical, it’s historical.”

 ~Anonymous

I lost an earring last night.

It was a favorite, and I’d actually lost and found it before. This time, however, with the day I had experienced, I knew it was now gone forever. Instead of sighing and moving on, tears formed and my voice shook as I told my son and daughter in law. They both looked concerned. You see, they know me, and I don’t cry over stuff that quickly. Especially not stuff (or baseball). “I’m sorry, I’ve had a hard day,” I said as I went upstairs to recover.

I’m not going to sugarcoat this. Left the room and balled like my 2-year-old grandson.

I called my dear soulmate, Chris, to help me get perspective. He was naturally concerned. “I’ll buy you another damned pair...What is really going on?” he asked. It was at that moment that I realized there was a lot going on, and I wasn’t facing it.

It was not the here, and now, it was historical.

I don’t like losing things because it reminds me of some of the more profound things I’ve lost in my life. Things that can never be replaced. Things that can never be changed by my husband or any other loved one. Things that unlike my earring, I will never forget. I grow hysterical with fear.

Perhaps it was time to get more real about my historical reaction to loss.

I’ve always assumed my response to loss is greater than the general population’s, but over time, I know that there are different types of loss. Some are more subtle than others but just as heavy. We have a tendency to gravitate toward those who share our particular type of loss, but perhaps we should stop separating and categorizing our differences.

Instead, we can congeal around our understanding.

And like my husband’s straightforward words to me, find out what’s really going on.

Under the hysteria.

Cheers.