By Natasha Josefowitz, Ph.D.
LA JOLLA, California–You often say to a friend, “You are a sister to me,” or “You’re the brother I never had.” And you are indeed blessed if you have a true friend, one who knows your foibles, your hopes, fear and aspirations and loves you not only because of who you are, but also in spite of who you are. A friend is one who knows your secrets and can be trusted to keep them, who is there for the fun times, but also can be counted on for the bad ones. A friend does not get bored when you obsess about something. Sometimes I need to think through something by mulling it over endlessly. I repeat the same arguments in my head and get nowhere until I can do this out loud with a friend who will listen patiently until I get some clarity about whatever is worrying me. Normally, it is what spouses are good for, but barring one, it is only a good friend who can stand that kind of recycling.
And yet when a friends dies, our grief is often seen as less legitimate than when we lose a family member, and therefore there is less support from our family and other friends. The community does not rally around the grieving person, and there are fewer resources available. Members of grief support groups have all lost a parent, sibling, spouse, or child. Friends are seen as replaceable. “You have many friends” is a frequent response and only makes matters worse for not acknowledging the depth of the loss. The only way to cope is to recognize how awful you feel—how bereft—and to reach out to your friend’s family and grieve with them.
It may feel incongruous to write about losing a pet in the same column as losing a friend. Yet for those of us who have loved an animal, the difference is not obvious. A dog or cat can become a best friend and, for some people who are isolated in their homes, the only friend.
An animal is a companion who knows our habits and anticipates them. I have heard people speak of their dogs and cats as their furry kids. We hold them on our laps, stroke, mumble sweet nothings to, and if small enough we carry them around—just like we do with babies. An animal is a constant presence, it is always there, underfoot, next to us on the couch, and often in our beds.
Obviously, when we lose a pet, we don’t attend a religious service or hold a memorial, although families with young children often do. We won’t be receiving condolence cards, nor have the pet’s relatives to grieve with. We are left on our own and often receive very unhelpful comments such as “Just get another dog/cat.”
When we have loved and have been loved back, whether by a person or an animal, we ache when that connection is lost, we feel an emptiness, and we miss that presence. It is a void that cannot be quickly filled.
I urge people who know someone who has just lost a friend or a pet to make a condolence call, check on how the person is doing, stay in touch frequently, maybe even daily, and treat this loss as seriously as you would the loss of a family member.
Death of a Loved One
By Natasha Josefowitz, Ph.D.
When someone we have loved has died
it is as if a limb
has been taken away
When someone we have loved has died
it leaves us limping
for a long time
When someone we have loved has died
grief is a task
which must be undertaken
so that healing can follow
and lead us to new tomorrows
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Josefowitz is a freelance writer whose column also appears initially in La Jolla Village News. Your comments may be placed in the box below or sent directly to the author at natasha.josefowitz@sdjewishworld.com