- What do you miss most? What are you missing? - I asked her, a middle-aged woman who had sought counseling due to loss. A year ago her only friend passed away, 5 years before that her husband left her, and if she somehow coped with the divorce, then the loss of her friendly shoulder knocked it out completely, and since then she couldn’t pull herself together. “Oh, if I had her, I would tell her everything.” For example, about how my son is growing. How he distanced himself from me, hid in a shell and came out of it mainly when he needed something. Sometimes, as if having forgotten, he opens up and begins to share his impressions, smile, act out something in his faces, but almost immediately, as if having come to his senses, he frowns and changes the topic. I would tell her that I think I lost him once . Once upon a time, when arranging a personal life seemed more important than establishing contact with the baby... I would tell her that I was still able to find a way to have an income and at the same time do what I love. Yes, everything turned out just as she and I once dreamed. I would share that I find this a little strange because I never learned to believe that I deserve anything worthwhile. And such gifts of fate, despite the long-awaitedness and persistence of aspirations for them, seem to be an unaffordable luxury, and it seems to me that they can be taken away at any minute. I would tell her that I met a good guy, but I can’t conceive , that half of the female organs responsible for childbirth have been missing for 3 months, but I don’t give up and continue to hope, giving time and money to attempts. I would admit in a whisper that giving time and money to endless procedures designed to start my battered reproductive system system, I have ambivalent feelings and think that it might be better if we spent it on a trip to Italy. I am ashamed of these thoughts, but they exist and, apparently, this is also a part of me. I would tell her that more and more such imperfect thoughts are being discovered in the structure of my soul every day. And that this is not because I am getting worse, but because I find the courage to admit them to myself. And that it is both sad and good at the same time. It’s sad that I’m full of weaknesses and contradictions, but the good thing is that now I don’t have to deceive myself about this anymore. “Is there only sad things in your life?” Is there anything good you could share with her? – I clarified. “Yes.” But that's not what friends are for. And in order to - about the tormenting, painful, tormenting. She paused and added: “She would listen and not listen to me, sometimes greedily catching every word, and sometimes pursing her lips displeasedly from disagreement and heatedly interrupting. And then... Then she would tell me how her son is growing..." _____________________________________________________________________ The passing of loved ones is a difficult experience. By letting them go, we also let go of a part of ourselves that was closely intertwined with the world of another person close to us. And, perhaps, there is no way to go through this and not experience pain. But there is a way to share the pain. With someone who didn't know the departed person the way you did, and who can't feel what you feel. But - just as alive and ready to take you and your pain into your world for 5 minutes or an hour, as you’re lucky; and give you the opportunity to give your pain to this world, listening and not interfering. Speak up. Share. With loved ones, with strangers, with a psychologist, with paper, with trees. With whatever is at hand, with whoever responds. Speak. This is the only way to let go, recover and be alive again..