What No One Tells You About Heartbreak
You know that feeling. The sucker punch of loss. Your knees buckle and you clutch your gut as tears – hot and voracious – drip from your chin to collar bone. When you’ve finally cried yourself empty, you slide between cool sheets and wait for the elixir of sleep to rescue you. For a brief interlude, the pain disappears. Then, you wake and the weight of your new reality presses on your every cell. The person you love is gone.
It’s been a couple of years since I felt the punch of a broken relationship, but on September 16, 2014, I found myself sobbing in the dark. It should have been Melissa’s 32nd birthday. She should still be on this planet, paint brush in hand and laughter dancing in her eyes. Instead she’s gone. Stolen from us by an aggressive cancer called Ewing’s Sarcoma.
When I first imagined creating the foundation and envisioned a pilot program in India, I pictured the joy of 12 cancer survivors volunteering with local projects and standing in awe as the sun rose behind the Taj Mahal. I didn’t think about how attached I might get or how it would feel to lose someone who became a friend.
As I lay crying in the dark last week, I thought about how it’s almost time to bring our next group of survivors to India (details and dates coming very soon) and had to ask myself – am I ready for the risk that I might relive this pain?
The answer is yes. Absolutely. Unequivocally. Yes. The risk of sadness is worth it if it means sharing possibility, adventure, and meaning with people who need a way to start fresh.
If I have learned anything on my travels, it is this: struggle and joy are meant to intermingle. Here in North America, we maniacally chase happiness. We avoid thoughts of death and focus on our quest to uncover the “perfect” life.
And, yet…there is no growth without struggle and sadness.
Heartbreak means we’ve allowed ourselves to truly care about another human being. It means we’re alive. My heart was splintered and raw when I said goodbye to a beautiful little boy after my volunteer program in South Africa 3 years ago. I didn’t know how I could leave this little human. In spite of our lack of a shared language and the limited time we spent in a dusty and barren daycare trailer, he healed me from the depression and isolation of cancer in ways I will never be able to put into words. He taught me what unconditional love felt like and reminded me how grateful I was to be alive. The pain of saying goodbye has challenged me to grow in ways that the joy alone never could.
So, if you’re curled up on the floor grieving an unimaginable loss, stay there for awhile longer. Don’t try to sweep the darkness under the rug. Let the sadness have its way with you. Know that you are not alone and that this pain is part of the journey. Perhaps it’s unlocking the door to possibilities you can’t even imagine yet?
“How should we be able to forget those ancient myths that are at the beginning of all peoples, the myths about dragons that at the last moment turn into princesses; perhaps all the dragons of our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us once beautiful and brave. Perhaps everything terrible is in its deepest being something helpless that wants help from us.
So you must not be frightened if a sadness rises up before you larger than any you have ever seen; if a restiveness, like light and cloudshadows, passes over your hands and over all you do. You must think that something is happening with you, that life has not forgotten you, that it holds you in its hand; it will not let you fall. Why do you want to shut out of your life any uneasiness, any miseries, or any depressions? For after all, you do not know what work these conditions are doing inside you.” ~Rainer Rilke
How has sadness or struggle helped you grow? As always I’d love to hear from you in the comments below.
For Patients & Survivors
If you are a cancer patient or survivor who is looking for a meaningful way to start fresh, please sign up for our tribe here. You will be the first to know about our upcoming programs. Stay tuned as we prepare to announce our 2015 International Programs in India and Africa. Applications will open soon (and only be open for a short time), so we don’t want you to miss the opportunity of a lifetime.
For Champions & Ambassadors
If you are looking for more meaning and purpose in your life – even if you haven’t had cancer – we are looking for you. Our tribe of champions and ambassadors is growing and we would love you to join us in impacting the foundation and the world. Contact us here and tell us a bit about yourself and why and how you want to get involved.
For Donors & Sponsors
Audacious and hopeful, Fresh Chapter Alliance Foundation (FCAF) aims to transform grief and pain into purpose and healing. Through proven US and International programs, survivors gain perspective, find community, and rebuild their lives. Please visit the Fresh Chapter Alliance Foundation page to learn more about our work and make a donation.
Comments (6)
I have a picture of one of Melissa’s paintings on my fridge. I see it every day and am reminded of how beautiful she was through her glowing presence in the photos from India. I love seeing her big beautiful smile, experiencing the friendship, love, healing, and adventure in New Delhi. Visiting the Taj Mahal. What a wonderful gift to her life. As heartbreaking as the loss is and always will be, I’m so proud of you and what you do, Terri. Not only do you give from the heart, but you gave Melissa a beautiful life experience she would never have had otherwise. I’ve lost two special people and the greatest comfort I find is in knowing I did my best for them each day I had them here in my life. I’ll gladly shed the tears and have moments of sadness in return for the blessing those two people were to me. Beautifully written. None of us escape heartbreak and loss, but none of us are alone in it either, thanks in part to the friendships found through A Fresh Chapter.
So beautifully written…truly from the heart….
Thank you, Terri. This is beautiful.
Thank you for your wonderful comments and support!
Terri, this is such a poignant, insightful post. I’m so sorry for the loss that has hit so hard. It’s so hard to accept, isn’t it? Even though these things happen, nothing prepares you. The work you’re doing is so worthwhile. Tennyson said “Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.” I think he was accurate. xoxo
Oh Terri, I needed to read this beautiful post and comments today. Thank you. That is all I can manage to type right now. Sending so much love.