Jasmine's Home, October 1, 2011
Dear
Spirit,
People
say, “It’s better to love and lose than to never love at all.” What about to love at a distance and to never get close enough to “lose”? What would people say about that? A month and a half has passed since I shared
with You how it feels to be like a fisherman who makes the catch of his life
and the captain says, “That fish is protected.
You have to throw it back.” This
fisherman is not done grieving yet, Spirit.
According to Elisabeth Kubler Ross and David Kessle, grieving people go
through five stages of grief: (1) Denial, (2) Anger, (3) Bargaining, (4) Depression,
and (5) Acceptance. Are there five
stages of grief for people like the fisherman too? For forbidden lovers? You know the type, Spirit, the old-fashioned
ones, the ones who are not permitting themselves a true expression of
their love.
If you ask Google, forbidden lovers
don’t get the stages of grief. I asked
and got nothing. I googled for “Five Stages of Grief” or “5 Stages of Grief”
AND for “Forbidden Love.” Google popped
up the usual list and also links for stages accompanied with “break up.” But break up does not touch the unique
quality of forbidden love. The grief of
break up is over a love that had been
and was then lost. The grief of forbidden love is over a love
that could have been, but never gets
to start.
Of the usual five stages, at least
two appear to be the same for forbidden love, so I’ll begin with those: Anger
and Bargaining. Are you ready, Spirit, for my “Anger”? Why didn’t You introduce me to Davie ten
years ago? Why, Spirit, did you allow us
to each get married before we met one another?
Why did you dangle the most amazing treasure of our lives right before
our eyes only when it’s too late, and tell us, “I know you love this more than
anything you’ve ever seen or experienced, but you can’t have it.” Why?
I
know part of Your answer is that we wouldn’t have chosen each other ten years
ago. True. Ten years ago, in my insecurities over
“thinking at odds,” Tim was the stable force I was seeking. A straight-forward, simple, here’s-how-it-is
thinker who was both confident and self-assured, but also charmed by my
complexities, was exactly what I was looking for ten years ago. Today, I’m proud to be thinking at
odds. Tim was great for me ten years
ago. And I still like him today. But You have helped to transform me into a
stronger woman. I don’t need Tim now like I did ten years ago.
Yes,
Spirit, I get why I chose Tim. I get why
I might not have chosen Davie a decade ago. And I get that I would not have wanted to wait
until my 30s to find a man. All right, that
releases at least some of my “Anger.” But
it brings me straight to “Bargaining.” You’ve
heard my Bargaining: How close can I
get to him? When and where can we be
alone? As close as our souls are, shouldn’t
we get at least a little private time – that cherished feature for every couple
who feels the way we do? How physically close can we be? Is it okay to hold hands? Can we be arm in arm?
I
bargain and bargain for something, anything, that opens a window into what could be. If we weren’t forbidden, what would we be? Can’t we at least take our index finger to
the curtain covering the window to open up a peek, a glimpse through the window
of what could be?
Please,
Spirit, hear the irony: normal couples date and do everyday life things
together. They go grocery shopping
together, and they make dinner together, and they eat it together – after burning it together and having an
argument over that. Real life. Normal couples do real life. They do their laundry and clean the house,
and they overstuff the washing machine and it goes bonkers, kicking and jolting
and making a ruckus so loud they think a bomb hit the house. And the vacuum cleaner gets so clogged with
cat hair, the vacuum’s stuck, it won’t budge, and they try to force it, and it
screeches at high pitched torture, then it goes silent. Dead.
And they scream, first at the machine, then at each other. Real life.
Normal couples do real life.
Spirit,
please hear me: forbidden lovers need real life too. We need it more. Real life tests the
couple. Not all couples meet the
test. Some fail. In real life, some couples discover they are
not meant for one another. We are
forbidden. Doesn’t that mean we are also
not meant for one another? If not, then
let us find out! Let us face the tests
of real life.
Bargaining
is a non-stop “stage” for me, Spirit.
All through the other stages Bargaining pokes its head; it’s there; it
never was not there, and it never leaves.
Does that happen for people grieving loss too, or does that make the
process different for forbidden love? Will
it still pop in during “Acceptance”? Right
now, I cannot imagine Acceptance.
Then
we have the other two stages, the first and the fourth: Denial and
Depression. For forbidden love, these
two are there, but are these the right words? Again, this is forbidden love
that is not pursued. I’m not writing about the forbidden lovers
who have an affair, then repent, and then go through the normal Five Stages of
Grief when they part ways. I’m talking
about the forbidden lovers who don’t
have an affair, who don’t let
themselves discover what could be.
We’re an endangered species, but a few of us still remain. Is “denial,” then, really the right word to
mark the first “stage” for us?
For
us, it’s not a denial that something bad
has happened. It’s a denial that
something good cannot happen. That gives it a very different shape and
color. Instead of a denial that is
intermixed with sharp pangs of loss, it’s something else intermixed with sharp
pangs of love. It’s intermixed with joy, euphoria,
celebration, and the inexplicable elation of being in love. When you’re in love, everything looks
brighter.
Until
you realize you can’t pursue the one with whom you’re in love. Until you realize he’s the fish who’s
“protected” and has to be thrown back into the sea. That’s more than “grief.”
That’s “anguish.”
So
what kind of “denial” marks this type of anguish? Could another word replace “denial” that
captures both the celebration of being in love and the anguish that it cannot
be pursued? Something like “illusion,” the
magician’s magic trick. “Magic”: that’s
another word that captures it. Maybe
both are needed: Magic and illusion.
Yeah, both are needed. That’s
what I’ll call the first “stage”: Magic and Illusion.
How
about “Depression”? Again, for forbidden
love, “Depression” doesn’t quite capture it.
But English has a word that does, one that has been celebrated by the
poets of days long ago precisely for the application of forbidden love: Melancholy.
Yes,
the “Five Stages of Grief” do look different for forbidden love. Since Google presents no list, I’ve created
my own. These, Spirit, are what I’ll
call the Five Stages of Grief in Forbidden Love:
(1) Magic and Illusion
(2) Anger
(3) Bargaining
(4) Melancholy
(5) Acceptance
I’m trusting You, Spirit, for that last stage, Acceptance. I cannot imagine it, but I pray You bring me
to it. Amen.
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