Writing About Ambiguous Loss

2020 was a year of great loss for many. 2021 still finds us in a pandemic which means more loss, though it’s loss tinged with hope as COVID vaccines are being developed and distributed. Losing a loved one is horribly painful and gut-wrenchingly grievous. It seems particularly tragic losing someone young or healthy. It leaves a gaping hole in family and friend’s hearts. 

My father passed away in 2020 at the age of 92. I miss him so much, yet he lived a long, wonderful life. For those, though, that lose someone unexpectedly through illness or injury, someone they never thought they’d lose, that’s such a different story and my heart is heavy and burdened for friends and family who’ve suffered these losses.

For this article, there’s another type of loss, “Ambiguous Loss”, that I want to focus on. Ambiguous loss describes the kind of loss that is ambiguous because there’s no closure, no finality. For example: a soldier missing in action and the family can't move on. A child or adult who suffers a life-altering brain injury; the person is alive but will never be the same as before. Someone who suffers from mental illness- the whole family has to deal with the loss of who that person once was, but no longer is, dashing hopes and dreams.

Ambiguous: people don’t know what to do with this type of loss because it's ongoing. “What do I say to my friend today because things are still painful and nothing has changed?” In fact, most people just stop asking and those affected by ambiguous loss stop telling because it feels burdensome to trudge up the fact that no, things have not changed, not gotten better; life is still such a struggle.

If you’d like to learn more about ambiguous loss, I recommend two books: the original book on the subject, Ambiguous Loss (Learning to Live with Unresolved Grief), by Pauline Boss, and Hit Hard: One Family's Journey of Letting Go of What Was--and Learning to Live Well with What Is, by Pat and Tammy McLeod.

Each year, I work with students who experience ambiguous loss, even if they don’t recognize it as such. I see students who have siblings with mental illness; it changed their siblings and causes great stress and weariness. Sometimes, I don’t find out about their family member right away. The student feels embarrassed, confused, or even feels it’s an unimportant piece of information to share with colleges.

If your child or your student is in this situation, may I be a voice of encouragement? I encourage students to write about their stories in college essays, to share the impact it’s had on their lives, and even to share the sense of loss they feel: the feeling of loss when a sibling used to be engaged with the family, but is now suicidal, withdrawn, or destructive. The loss when a parent suffers a brain injury that deeply impacts everyone. 

Without this information, colleges have no context to understand some of the family dynamics and struggles a student may have gone through. A student with strong grades, rigor, and activities who has silently anguished over ambiguous loss is an amazingly resilient young person, and colleges would benefit from knowing this. I know it can be hard to share such personal information, but in many ways, it can be cathartic for the student to finally be free to say, “We’re not ok, but we keep pressing on and moving forward.”