I feel the poignant sadness that arises at this time each year as the weather gets cooler and my flowers die away. I’ve found myself out in the garden taking picture after picture.

This sadness isn’t special to autumn, though. Now that my parents have been on the planet for eight decades, the reality of loss is on my mind all the time.

My parents had the four of us before they turned thirty, and I’ve always thought of them as “young:” younger than my friends’ parents, “young for their age,” “young to have grandkids.” But now they are well past the age my grandparents were when, kissing them goodbye after a visit,  I’d get sad wondering if this might be the last time I’d see them.

 

As it turned out, this went on for years, because both of them were very healthy. My parents are healthy too. “Still,” says my sadness, “No one can live forever.” Why, I’ve wondered, am I mourning my very-much-alive parents?! Am I a reincarnation of Eeyore?

“Good morning, Eeyore,” said Pooh.
“Good morning, Pooh Bear,” said Eeyore gloomily. “If it IS a good morning,” he said. “Which I doubt,” said he.
“Why, what’s the matter?”
“Nothing, Pooh Bear, nothing. We can’t all, and some of us don’t. That’s all there is to it.”
“Can’t all WHAT?” said Pooh, rubbing his nose.
“Gaiety. Song-and-dance. Here we go round the mulberry bush. …I’m not complaining, but There It Is.”
― A.A. Milne

No… as adorable as Eeyore’s neurotic gloom is, my sadness is something different. 

Anticipatory emotions

I think this constant awareness of the arc of life is part of my deep-processing HSP nature. Elaine Aron has a name for this: anticipatory grief.* In The Highly Sensitive Person, she explains why HSPs find medical appointments particularly stressful and over-arousing: “your deep intuition cannot ignore the shadowy presence of suffering and death, the human condition.”

For HSPs, this isn’t gloomy or neurotic. On the contrary, Elaine says, “Living life aware of death makes sense to me, provided it increases your appreciation of the moment.” Eeyore might say, “Mourning things in advance thing does not count as Gloomy Behavior, especially as it introduces dangerously Grateful Tendencies.”

The silver lining of anticipatory grief

Anticipatory grief heightens my awareness of all that is most precious to me. It fosters gratitude. Instead of overwhelming me or paralyzing me, it prods me to spend my time, money and energy savoring the people, places, and experiences I most value.

When I feel sad anticipating my parents’ inevitable passing, I sit myself down and say, “OK, is there something I need to do about this? Take time just to be sad? Buy a plane ticket and go visit? Call home? Am I enjoying my parents as much as I can while they are still here?”

With my flowers, this consciousness has sparked a startling burst of photographic creativity. They are nothing like any pictures I’ve ever taken and I’m not sure where they came from, but this I know: they gratify a deep need to value and savor my flowers and to honor, with beauty, their inevitable passing.

Photo: 2017 Emily Agnew, all rights reserved 

*Aron, Elaine (2010): Psychotherapy and the Highly Sensitive Person, New York: Routledge, p. 61
**Aron, Elaine (1996): The Highly Sensitive Person: New York:  Broadway Books, p. 189