Finding Joy After Loss: Filling the Empty Places

At this age, we see a lot of loss. We lose friends. I've lost five since we moved to our new community 5 years ago.  And it seems not a month goes by that I get a notice that one of my colleagues from my 35 years at one company has passed. I was very close to some, and some were mentors.

created by Chatgpt 7/5/2026

We've moved twice in the last 14 years. Each time was a downsizing. During those downsizings, we donated many items I loved, but no longer had space for. Artwork, in particular. I had artwork for every season along with hobby materials. And since our recent move, we’ve lost space and some comforts our previous apartment had.

As we age, our bodies begin negotiating with us. Hubby and I have worked hard to stay healthy and active over the years, but health issues have slowed us down. Then, after serious illnesses, dietary restrictions meant giving up many of the foods we loved.

Many of us notice changes in our memory and slower thinking as we age. And for us, 1.5 years ago we lost our dear Casey, an extraordinary cat friend who warmed us with love and entertainment daily. While I'm at the stage now where I can remember all the joy he brought us, I still miss the warm body snuggling next to me at night and playing chase during the day.

Our beloved Cssey

This week brought one of life’s smaller hurts that caught me by surprise. A misunderstanding left us feeling disappointed and a little less at home than we had before. It wasn't a tragedy, but sometimes it's the small hurts that linger because they chip away at our sense of belonging.

Some losses carve out huge spaces in our lives. Others leave only small ones. But over the years they accumulate, and eventually we find ourselves carrying far more than we realize.

Paul McCartney urged us to "Let It Be." I've been trying. But I've learned that letting something be doesn't mean pretending it doesn't hurt. Sometimes we have to experience the sadness.

Kahlil Gibran expressed the thought more eloquently in The Prophet: "The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain."

Life can begin to resemble a garden. Over time, flowers die and leave empty patches of earth. We can't make the old flowers bloom again, but we can decide what we'll plant in the spaces they leave behind.

But we have to work at it. We can't sit in our rocking chair and expect the joy to fall into ur lap even if we do have a lap cat or dog. We have to pay attention to the joy waiting for us to discover it. Although the expression, “Gather Ye Rosebuds While Ye May,” can seem trite, it sends us a message that joy comes from action. We have to look. We have to smell. We have to listen. We have to pay attention.

A bunny I saw while walking this morning

Enjoying nature helps. I'm not particularly religious, but as I type this, "How Great Thou Art" is playing on the piano. Whatever our beliefs, it's hard not to be moved by the wonder of the universe around us. Right now, the blooms on the ixora outside my window are multiplying and coming into full blossom. 

Ixora blooming outside my lanai

• Savoring a favorite piece of art helps. Enjoying its colors and lines.

• Listening to music helps; especially upbeat music.

• Communing with my current cat, Patsy. Petting her soft fur and listening to her purr.

• Meditating. Breathing and calming my body, and

• Spending time with friends who appreciate me and make me smile.

Watercolor of poppies by my front door

So this upcoming week I'm going to make a point of looking for beauty. I'll notice the flowers outside my window. I'll listen to music that stirs my soul. I'll stop to admire a favorite painting instead of simply walking past it. I'll pay attention to the things that have always brought me joy. I hope those small joys will slowly begin filling the empty places.

None of those things will erase what's been lost. They won't bring back friends, good health, or beloved pets. But perhaps that's not the point. Perhaps the point is to keep filling our lives with enough moments of wonder that the empty places don't become the whole story.

And if, despite our best efforts, those empty places continue to grow and the sadness refuses to lift, then it's worth talking with a doctor. Sometimes we need more than fresh air and beautiful music.

For now, though, I'll keep looking, listening, and noticing. Joy doesn't always come looking for us. Sometimes we have to go looking for it.

Now, I just have to follow my own advice.