Loss and mourning inexorably belong to the human condition. All of us are subjected to the unbreakable law of entropy: everything wears down slowly; the body debilitates, the years leave their mark, illnesses uncontrollably take away our vital capital. Such is the law of life, that includes death.
But there are also ruptures that break the natural flow. These are the losses produced by traumatic events such as betrayal by a friend, loss of a job, loss of a loved one due to divorce, or to sudden death. Tragedy is also part of life.
It represents a big personal challenge to face these losses and still nourish resilience, this is, to learn from the crises. Especially painful is the experience of mourning, because it reveals all the power of the Negative. Mourning possesses an intrinsic characteristic: it demands to be endured, crossed, and positively overcome.
There are many specialized studies about mourning. According to psychiatrist Elisabeth Kübler-Ross, her experience and overcoming consisted of several steps.
The first is denial: confronting the paralyzing event, the person exclaims in a natural way: «It cannot be», «it is a lie.» Disconsolate cries erupt that no single word can express.
The second step is the rage that exclaims: «why me? It is not fair what has happened.» It is the moment when the person sees the uncontrollable limits of life and does not want to accept them. It is not uncommon to blame one’s self for the loss, for not having done something, or for having left undone what had to be done.
The third step is characterized by depression and an existential vacuum. We close ourselves into our own shells and take pity on ourselves. We resist remaking ourselves. Here all warm embrace and all words of consolation, conventional as they may sound, take an unsuspected meaning. It is the yearning of the soul for meaning, and to know that the guiding stars have only darkened, but not disappeared.
The fourth step is self strengthening, through a species of negotiations with the pain of the loss: «I cannot succumb or totally withdraw; I have to endure all this pain to take care of my family, or until I get my degree.» In the middle of the darkest night, a ray of light is seen.
The fifth appears as a resigned and serene acceptance of the unavoidable fact. We end up incorporating into our existential journey the wound that left the scar. No one exits a period of mourning as he entered it. The person is forced to mature and experience the fact that the loss is not total, but that it always brings some existential gain.
Mourning is a painful journey, and therefore, it has to be experienced. Let me offer an autobiographic example that would better clarify the need to undergo mourning. In 1981 I lost a sister with whom I had a special bond. She was the youngest of the sisters of 11 brothers. As a professor, one morning around 10 am, in front of her students, she let out an immense cry, and fell dead. Mysteriously, at 33 years of age, her aorta vein had ruptured.
The whole family, coming from different parts of the country, was disoriented by this fatal shock. We cried plentiful tears. We spent two days looking at photographs and, saddened, remembering the facts of the life of our beloved little sister. The other members of the family could go through this mourning and loss. I had to leave shortly thereafter for Chile, where I had to hold conferences for all the friars of the Southern Cone. I left with a broken heart. Every talk was an exercise in self-overcoming. From Chile, I continued to Italy where I had to deliver talks on the renovation of religious life for everyone in the congregation.
The loss of my beloved sister tormented me as an unbearable absurdity. I started to faint two or three times a day, without any physically obvious reason. I had to be taken to a physician. I told him about the drama that was going on. He understood everything and told me: «you have not buried your sister yet, nor have gone through the necessary mourning; as long as you do not undergo your period of mourning and do not bury her, you will not get better; something of yourself died with her and that needs to be resurrected.» I canceled all the other programs. In silence and in prayer I went through my mourning. When I was back home, in a restaurant, as we remembered our beloved sister, my theologian brother Clodovis and I wrote in a paper napkin something that we later put in a memorial card:
«There were thirty three years, as the years of Jesus/Years of much work and suffering/but also very fruitful/ Claudia was burdened with the suffering of others/In her own heart, as a rescue/She was as clear as the mountain fountain/Loving and tender as the flower of the field/She knitted, step by step, and in silence/ A precious brocade/She left two little ones, strong and beautiful/And a husband, proud of her/Happy you, Claudia, because the Lord, when He was back/He found you standing, working/Lamp alight/And you fell in his lap/For the infinite embrace of Peace.»
Among her papers we found this phrase: «There is always a meaning of God in all human events: it is important to discover it.» Until today we continue searching for that meaning, that only in faith can we divine.