I've Lost Things I Didn't Even Know I Had

I've lost people before.

Most of us have.

Some through death. Some through distance. Some through circumstances that neither person could control. Others simply drifted away until one day the relationship that once felt so natural became little more than a memory.

I've written before about friendship and how sometimes we don't realize we're saying goodbye when it's happening. We think there will be another phone call, another visit, another holiday, another chance to reconnect.

But lately I've been thinking about a different kind of loss.

I've been thinking about the things I've lost that I didn't even know I had.

When we're young, we often don't recognize the gifts we're receiving because they feel normal. We assume they'll always be there. We assume life will continue much the same way it always has.

It isn't until years later that we realize what those things were worth.

As a child, there were people who made me feel welcome.

People who made me feel safe.

People who made me feel like I belonged.

At the time, I didn't think much about it. I was just living my life. I didn't stop to analyze why I felt comfortable around certain people or why some homes felt different from others.

I certainly didn't realize those feelings were gifts.

I didn't realize how valuable it was to walk into a room and know someone was happy to see me.

I didn't realize how much it mattered to feel included.

I didn't realize how comforting it was to know there was a place for me at the table.

Those things felt ordinary.

Until they weren't there anymore.

As life moves forward, families change.

People pass away.

Relationships shift.

Children grow up.

People move.

Traditions disappear.

Houses get sold.

Gatherings become smaller.

Some stop happening altogether.

One day you find yourself looking back, not necessarily grieving a particular person, but grieving something harder to explain.

A feeling.

A season of life.

A sense of belonging.

The comfort of knowing exactly where you fit.

I think that's why certain memories stay with us.

It's not always because the events themselves were extraordinary.

It's because of how those moments made us feel.

Safe.

Wanted.

Accepted.

Loved.

Those feelings become part of us.

And sometimes we don't recognize their importance until years later when we discover they're missing.

There are people from my past who probably have no idea how much they influenced my life.

They may never know.

A kind word.

An invitation.

A place to stay.

A warm welcome.

A simple act of inclusion.

At the time, those moments may have seemed small to them.

To me, they became part of the foundation I would stand on for the rest of my life.

That's the funny thing about human beings.

We often think the biggest things are what matter most.

The promotions.

The accomplishments.

The milestones.

But when I look back now, some of the things I treasure most aren't things at all.

They're feelings.

The feeling of being welcomed.

The feeling of being remembered.

The feeling of being important to someone.

The feeling of being home.

I've lost some of those things over the years.

Life has a way of changing whether we're ready for it or not.

But recognizing their value has also taught me something important.

The things I miss most are often the very things I can still give to others.

I can make someone feel welcome.

I can make someone feel seen.

I can make room at my table.

I can be the safe person.

I can be the person who remembers.

Maybe that's how we honor the people who gave those gifts to us in the first place.

Maybe we pass them on.

Because while we can't always hold onto every person, every place, or every season of life, we can carry forward the things they taught us.

And sometimes the most valuable things we ever receive aren't things we can hold in our hands.

Sometimes they're things we don't even realize we have until they're gone.