Carolyn Hax: Happiness, some grief is moving on

Hi, Carolyn: My 50th birthday is on Sunday. For better or for worse, my family (parents, sibs, the entire extended family) and I are estranged. I’ve been disowned; actually, it’s been more of a mutual disownment, and my trust in the family is blown to bits.

Weirdly enough, my brain knows it’s for the best, like a bra that never quite fits right – it’s annoying and irritating, you’re better off ditching it and buying one the right size. I’m a much happier person without the constant judgment.

And yet it’s times like this when the 10-year-old in me feels like crying.

It’s like I’m mourning the loss of a family that never existed except in my head. There’s a part of me that can’t stop hoping. So, how does one finally quit hoping and really get on with life? – Happy birthday to me

If you really are much happier now, and the grief really does strike mostly at milestones, then I’d argue you have gotten on with your life.

Given the breadth and finality of your estrangement, there’s little to distinguish it, emotionally, from a death. And while survivors do eventually emerge from the pool of tears, they still get caught off-guard sometimes, miss the person so much it aches sometimes, relive the pain as if it were yesterday sometimes.

But you grieve for the living, so hope lives, too.

Your vulnerability to grief and hope comes in part from memory; your past lives in you. And, too, the ability to feel deeply comes into play, since an acute sense of loss comes from knowing how transformative love can be when it’s present, and how debilitating its absence can be.

Your memories and depth of feeling are the foundation of empathy, and empathy is your gift to the people you do welcome into your life. If the 10-year-old in you wants to cry sometimes, then let her cry. I’d be more concerned if she never spoke up at all.