Today is the result of the passing of yesterdays into the encroaching past. I now reckon time’s
passing by the number of Tuesday’s. Tuesday is the day my beloved died. Today has replaced
Tuesday 57 times, yet there is no distance between the first and the 57th.
Time? Yes, time marches on but it doesn’t heal all wounds as advertised. It can’t, really, it’s just
time. Unique to our sun and planets as far as we know. What heals, for lack of a better word, is
distance and we confuse that with time.
In math, (yes, math – forgive me but it is my favorite subject and germane to this exercise) word
problems often use rate, distance and time as variables to solve for an unknown. E.g. A train left
the station at 2:30 PM and travelled West towards its destination at 86 MPH. At the same time an
East-bound train left the destination station … Ok, I’ll stop, but you get the idea – the
relationship between rate, time and distance. That relationship has been reduced to a formula:
D=RT or Distance equals rate times time.
That same formula loosely holds true in many individuals experience of grief in the loss of a
loved one. I say loosely because it is not a hard formula like we see in math. A partial reason for
that is that everyone experiences grief differently so it’s virtually impossible to develop a
formula that encompasses all. Part of that difference can also be attributed to the rate that grief
moves in an individual. For some it’s a slow process and others it’s fairly quick. What do I
mean? Just in my own experience, I have had individuals tell me that they were over their grief
in a relatively short period of time – they didn’t experience grief any longer. For others, grief is
long-lasting. One Facebook friend told me that she still experienced intense grief eleven years
after her loved one died. My own mother’s grief at my dad’s dying lasted over 20 years until her
own death! So, there is no formula to determine either the distance or the time. It depends on the
rate and that is subjective. So, what do I mean by distance? Just this: how close one feels to the
one who died as time passes. For example, in the first case I mentioned, that person’s grief faded
over time until it was over.
May I suggest in that situation there was no longer a feeling or experiencing of closeness to the
one who had died. I’m not being judgmental. That is just how some people experience grief. In
those cases, the old adage “Time heals all wounds” applies. The more time that has passed the
more whole the survivor feels. I am sure that such individuals still have and can recall memories,
but perhaps they don’t feel the tug or overwhelming of emotions like at the beginning. That is
why some individuals talk about it being time to move on e.g. “You should be over your grief by
now, it’s time to move on.” That may well have been their own experience, but it’s not mine nor
the experience of my mom nor the 11-year veteran of grief. Hence, for us grief is still intense
even years later and the loved one is still a vital part of our emotions. I guess we could say that
there is no distance between us and the one who died, regardless of the passing of time. And for
that there is a formula. Math’s formula works just fine in those cases because the rate is zero. In
other words, we’re not moving on. At all! Therefore, there is no distance! Math tells us that
anything multiplied by zero equals zero. So, in our formula, when the rate is zero it doesn’t
matter how much time passes, the distance will always equal zero – again, by “distance” I mean emotional ties, the closeness of their love and memories. Those have not decreased and are as
real and meaningful as ever – perhaps even more precious! It is possible personally, to a limited
degree, to experience the heart of G-D in this: “Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of
His saints” ~Psalm 116:15.
In my growing knowledge of grief, I have come to understand that it is not a wound that needs to
be healed. Neither is it a cross that I bear. Grief is now a vital part of my existence that I embrace
in the absence of my beloved!
Thomas Ernst
February 12, 2025