Sometimes we have to die a little inside to feel like we are alive.

There is oftentimes a pondering of what is considered a loss or death. Surely a passing of ones life into the form of another; but what about our loss of self knowing? Or our loss of an old self only to be re-birthed into a new sense of self? Or to let past relationships perish only to be blessed with new ones that exemplify where you are today.

Both grandparents on my mothers side passed away when I was between 10 - 12 years old. My parents moved us out of the city my dad's parents lived in, so I didn't get to know them very well, only once or twice a year during family trips. My mom's parents passed away within 1 year of each other, nearly to the day (one on my eldest sister's birthday). They lived next door to us, and I am grateful now for the days that I would sneak out of the house and get knee rides from my grandpa, and fancy cereal snacks from my grandma. I felt special and loved. My parents often got angry because I didn't say where I was going and would simply disappear next door.

Loss is a difficult thing to explain. It comes in so many forms, ages, types, etc. And it comes to us during our own varying experiences and places of life that can be equally as difficult to understand. Death can come at one age of one's life and another age of one's life, and be experienced completely differently. Perhaps we can discuss these broad encounters here.