Loss is the stuff of life.

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Breaking News: Six killed in school shooting; Thousands lost in Bangladesh flooding; Search abandoned for missing Arizona hikers; Mt. Pinatubo eruption emanant; Permanently scarred victims of chemical plant fire expected to live. Stay tuned for our heartbreaking report on child abuse at 11:00.

Seems like bad news is the only news.

Seems like life is nothing more than bad news followed by more bad news, with scraps of good news scattered between to raise false hope. How in the hell can anyone recover from sorrow when sorrow never ends? Shelter from the storm is temporary. Loss is permanent.

Coping with loss is way of pretending what was lost wasn't all that important, anyway. Just get another dog. You'll forget about that puppy you grew-up with. Each door closed means another door opening, and other such blather.

Accepting loss is unavoidable, but is accepting loss coping? You can move-on from loss with stoicism, hate, or breakdown, but you have no choice about moving-on - except suicide.

I don't know quite what to make of the word "coping".

I think "coping" is modern-speak derived from feckless psychological theorizing which assumes that suffering of the soul is a mechanical problem. Just tighten a few screws, replace the belt-drive, you'll be coping in no time.

No you won't. What you loved and lost cannot be replaced with any technique of "coping". You only insult the memory of what was lost by trying to put it behind you.

Folks in former times thought loss inevitable. When it happened, they kept-on-keeping-on. They didn't think they were "coping with loss". "Coping" is a modern construct of pampered privilege. It comes from imagining normality as something real.

Loss is the stuff of life. It's also the stuff of drama. Maybe you'd be better off thinking of your loss as one more thread in an unfolding tapestry of epic struggle. Then what seemed pointless becomes destiny. It will still hurt, but your suffering will be given context.

The tapestry of context can turn tragic loss into an epic of Art. That may seem a foolishly romantic way to deal with the bumps and bruises of life.

It is romantic, but it's not at all unrealistic. Every life is a story. You can't decide what the story will be. You can decide how the story is told.

There is no glory in "coping", only simpering adjustment.

Rage against the sorrow in the wind.

Even people being tortured are allowed to scream.

By K. L. Shipley

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