Loss, Love, and Being Lucky to Share in the Lives of Others

This morning, I am getting the Talent Show CD ready to go. Today is our annual talent show, and I have a list of interesting acts to coordinate. I have difficulty coming up with all the music every year as my students aren't always the most detail-oriented people I know. I've been looking for a song by Skillet called Replay which doesn't seem to exist.

At the same time, I am mourning the loss of a good friend of mine who died unexpectedly on Wednesday evening. He was a coworker, a faith leader, and a good, good friend. He went to the emergency room and did not leave it. I found out about it last night and am processing it.

My faith tells me that death is not an end. It is just an end for sharing experiences here. I know that his faith told him the same thing, and the strength of his faith is helping me with this situation. I am mourning his loss for his family, especially for his wife who is also a good, good friend of mine. I know that she is in shock and will be in shock for a time to come.

This loss to me brings about several things that I don't often think about during my day-to-day life. I am so lucky that I get to spend time with other people focusing so very often on joy and exploration and music. It is a privilege to be welcomed into the lives of other people - one that I often take for granted or even forget.

There is a covenant that has to happen between therapist and client - one of holding space and privilege. I have to be invited into the life of another - I cannot completely force myself in without the permission of someone else. I can try, but without the privilege of sharing given by the client, I am not a therapist. At best, I am a singing part of the environment. The client has to be a willing participant in the relationship.

When a client or a friend leaves my life, I go through the process of grief. Fortunately for me, most of my clients leave my more restrictive treatment placement to go to a less restrictive placement, so most of my grieving is not because of loss but because of growth. I miss my clients when they leave - some more than others, but I do think of them as I meet more clients and go through my routine with others. In grief situations such as in the loss of my friend, I am a bit more emotionally involved.

I realized pretty early on in my music therapy education that I was not cut out to be a hospice music therapist. I have significant issues around the active dying process, and I know where these issues are rooted, but it is not my type of therapy. I've been criticized for this by professors - not wanting to put myself into situations where my mental health is directly affected - imagine being criticized for wanting to maintain my mental health (sarcasm here). I am starting to have anxiety responses to the upcoming events that I know I want to be part of - the funeral (which is typically open casket around here). I know I will not go to the viewing because that is a tradition that I just cannot do at all. I'm not even sure that these things will happen, but I have to prepare myself to go, so my anxiety and issues are bubbling up to the top of my attention. 

My anxiety, though, is outweighed by my love for both this man and his wife. They are my surrogate parents, and I feel the need to be there for her. So, I will dig deep into my therapy skills to work through my own anxiety and be present for her and for his family. 

I am so lucky that this man was a part of my life on this planet. I am fortunate that he was my friend, and I will miss him dearly.

I am going to go to work today, to celebrate the lives of other people that I am fortunate to be allowed to work with - my clients and coworkers. During the talent show today, I will try to make note of memorable instances - the better to remember the privilege that I have - that of sharing life moments with others.