Coping with the grief of a thousand tiny losses

When you or someone you know is suspected of having a rare cancer like myeloma, it is natural to prepare for the worst. You ready your mind for grief — for terrifying scans, a grim prognosis, upcoming treatments, and long nights in the emergency room.

However, no one warns you about something even more vital: the small sorrows. These might not seem like they deserve attention or are worthy of mourning, yet they can carry even more weight than the diagnosis itself.

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I grieve the quietness in the apartment when the television is turned off.

I grieve the empty space at the kitchen table when I am eating a meal alone because my mum is too tired to eat anything. I grieve the loss of a joke we used to share — one that she can’t remember anymore but is forever in my mind. I even grieve those times long ago when I felt certain of the future.

The griefs I have listed are not life-or-death matters. However, these matters make up the texture of life, and that texture is transforming, changing into something different.

Last week, I came across a note in my mum’s handwriting. It said, “Plant tomatoes in the garden next season.”

It was a plan she had made for a future she may not see. It was a small task for a version of herself she may not be when the season changes.

This is the sorrow of a life that has been paused. There’s a garden that won’t be planted and several trips and vacations that will never be taken. What I grieve is the quiet, relentless forfeiture of a thousand tiny tomorrows.

It is easy and convenient for us caregivers to dismiss these sorrows. We tell ourselves that they are trivial compared with the central battles we are facing, the anger we are feeling, or even the numerous repetitive tasks we engage in every day.

However, I have discovered that ignoring them means denying a part of our own pain. It’s as if we are saying that “small” kinds of grief aren’t worthy of being recognized or addressed. When we draw such erroneous conclusions about small griefs, we are forgetting that all grief, regardless of how small or big it is, demands our full attention and feelings.

When we put a name to our sorrows, especially the small ones, we are being honest with ourselves. We are saying and confessing to ourselves, “This hurts so much as well.”

The mantra: A sea of grief can be made up of a thousand tiny losses. We shouldn’t feel shame for sometimes drowning in it.

Making space for the small

So, from now on, I won’t rush past any sad feelings I have.

I’ll permit myself to deliberately miss the sound of my mum singing while she showers. I will honor the empty chair at the dinner table. I will acknowledge all the silence in the house.

I am going to pay attention to these small sorrows. Why? Because they are evidence that one has lived a rich life full of love that is still felt deeply.

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