The Mathematics of Loss

One time, when I was a little girl,I lost ten dollars.

And I was devastated.

I mean,I looked everywhere.

In my pockets,under the furniture,in places where ten dollarshad absolutely no business being.

But I couldn’t find it.

And I was sad.

So someone came along,saw how upset I was,and gave me twenty dollars.

Twenty!

Now, you would thinkthat would make everything better.

I mean, I had just lost ten,and someone had given me twice as much.

But no.

I was still upset.

Because in my little mind,all I could think was,

Imagine if I hadn’t lost that ten dollars.

I could have had thirty.

And isn’t that funny?

I had twenty dollars in my hands,but somehow,I was still grieving ten.

And I thinkthat’s what we do with life sometimes.

We become so obsessedwith the arithmetic of our lossesthat we forgetto count our blessings.

We keep subtractingwhat yesterday took from us,even when todayis trying to add something beautifulto our lives.

And I wonder,

how many of usare still mourning ten dollarswhile holding twenty in our hands?

How many of ushave allowed the beauty of what wasto blind usto the beauty of what is?

We miss the love that leftso muchthat we forget to appreciatethe love that stayed.

We spend so much timerevisiting the doors that closedthat we walk right pastthe ones standing open.

We keep replaying old conversations,rehearsing different endings,trying to rewrite chapterswhose ink has long since dried.

And I get it.

I really do.

Because sometimes,what we lostwas beautiful.

Sometimes,it was everythingwe thought we ever wanted.

And letting gocan feel like betrayingthe very thingswe once prayed would never leave.

But sweetheart,

you can acknowledgethat something was beautifulwithout spending the rest of your lifemourning its absence.

You can miss what waswithout missing outon what is.

Because imagine,

imagine standingbefore the most breathtaking viewyou have ever seen.

The mountains stretchingtheir shoulders toward heaven,the sun spilling goldacross the horizon,the sky blushingin shades you don’t even knowhow to name.

And there you are,

with your back turned to it all,staring at the roadthat brought you there.

Because somewherealong that road,you lost something.

And you’re so busylooking back,hoping to catchone last glimpse of it,that you never noticethe masterpiece unfoldingright before your eyes.

And what a tragedythat would be.

To be surrounded by beautyand still feel deprived of it.

To have your hands fulland still feel empty.

Not because lifehas given you nothing,but because your heartis still countingeverything it has taken away.

And listen,

I’m not sayingthat the twenty dollarsmakes the ten you lostany less valuable.

I’m not sayingthat new love erases old heartbreak,or that tomorrow’s happinesssomehow makes yesterday’s tearsunnecessary.

Some things cannot be replaced.

Some peoplewill always be missed.

Some memorieswill always achea little when we touch them.

But I hopeyou don’t spend your entire lifetrying to recover yesterdayat the expense of today.

I hope you learnthat gratitude and griefcan sit at the same table,that you can mourn what is goneand still make roomfor what has arrived.

That moving forwarddoesn’t meanwhat you lost never mattered.

It simply meansyou have decidedthat what remainsmatters too.

And perhapsthat’s what that little girlwith twenty dollars in her handshad yet to understand.

That sometimes,life doesn’t give us backwhat we lost.

Sometimes,it gives us something different.

And if we spend forevermeasuring the presentagainst the past,

we may never discoverthe beauty of whatwe’ve been given.

So I hopethe next time lifeplaces something beautifulin your hands,

you’ll have the courageto stop countingwhat is missinglong enoughto appreciatewhat is there.

Because what a heartbreaking thingit would be

to spend your entire lifelooking for the ten dollars you lost,only to realizeyou never really enjoyedthe twenty dollarsyou had.