When Someone We Love Dies

We feel as if the entire world should come to a standstill for this very special person who has died as the world will never be the same again. But it doesn’t, and life seemingly moves on. This is a precious and tender place in our lives, and it is inevitable if we are connected to other human beings while we are here. I know when my mum died the most powerful comment I had shared with me was: “death is about learning to accept the unacceptable”.

The love we share with a departed one doesn’t die, it continues in a way we have yet to cultivate, and understand. Learning to cultivate a new way of connecting that is beyond the human limitations … takes time. I know it doesn’t hurt any less, it just hurts less often.

I went to a fund raiser for the “the weekend to end women’s cancers www.endcancer.ca/ ” which was in support of a dear friend who died 5 years ago of breast cancer. I miss her every day, and as I walked into the room, it was filled with her delightful, buoyant energy, so much so I kept looking over my shoulder to see if she was there. I know she was, just not in the form I was looking for.

The human quandary of not seeing her, hugging her, chatting with her still challenges me, but when I immerse myself in the glow of the energy of all of who she was/is my heart settles for a moment … until I am no longer satisfied with this connection and then I find myself being human again and yearning for the human connection. This is the dance between life and death that we all do, the key is to live here while we are here.

Life Coaching with Ruth
[email protected]

If this blog inspires you and you would like to be notified when new entries are made, go to the subscribe via email box on the right column of this blog and enter your email (be sure to reply to the confirmation email that will be sent to you)


  1. When Someone We Love Dies

    That's so beautiful, Ruth. And so right, for lack of a better word. Much love.

  2. When Someone We Love Dies

    Well, I put off reading this one when I saw the title as I still feel a bit raw sometimes, if you know what I mean, even though it's been over 2 years since my husband passed away (only 8 months since Mum's passing, though). However, as always, I found something very comforting in your words that really spoke to me. It's the part about it not hurting any less, just less often. I have to admit that's true even though there is a part of me that wants to say it will never stop hurting, even less often, and I don't even want it to. I'm getting there, though, I really am. Thanks for your inspiring words, Ruth.

Leave a Comment