With the recent misfortunes happening globally and threats of World War III, including the Russian and Ukrainian War, Israel and Palestines’ ongoing tragedies, and more, my loving boyfriend posed a question to me.

“What if I get drafted? If I died in battle, would you move on?”

The question wasn’t meant to be serious to him. But it was food for thought for me.

Definitely, a deep question to ask someone like me who has multiple experiences with death. Despite my unfortunate vast experience and knowledge of grief and death, I was baffled. 

Although I’ve experienced significant losses, including my father and brother, every loss is completely different. How would I handle losing my first and only love?

It’s not the first time something like this has crossed my mind.

Ever since the deaths I experienced, sometimes the thought of losing a specific loved one pops into my head at inevitable times, such as before I go to sleep, and I tear up at the faint thought. However, I think even if I hadn’t suffered through grief just yet in my life, my overthinking nature would still generate these thoughts.

But why do I have these thoughts?

I started digging into articles online to try and answer my own questions. And the closest answer I could find was “anticipatory grief.” 

Anticipatory grief is supposed to be a “normal” grief process where you anticipate a loved one dying soon from a fear of losing them.

This makes sense when I feel the fear and grief of losing a family member who is growing older in age. However, I have a big fear of losing anyone in my life randomly to death. Whether they are Grandma’s age or they’re my age. I’m just too afraid of waking up to the news that my best friend, boyfriend, or mother has died. 

I can’t exactly pinpoint where this fear stems from. It could be from any particular time in my vast experiences with grief. However, one time in particular always stands out the most.

I jumped out of bed and ran to grab a sharp knife from the kitchen drawer. I had to protect my mother.  

The excruciating sounds of mixed screams from my mother woke me up at 11 a.m. I could faintly see two large men in suits across the hall in my living room. By the sight and sounds, my first thoughts were that my mother was about to be murdered. 

I stood cowardly in the kitchen, a 14-year-old with a knife in hand, as I watched my mother across the way in the dining room. She continued to scream and tiptoed backward, backing away from the men.

As I peeked in closer, I recognized them. They were my two uncles –  my mother’s brothers. It was then that I finally realized what was going on. 

Someone came from behind me and grabbed me tighter than I’d ever been grabbed before. I glanced over to see it was my aunt. She couldn’t let me go. It was awkward to be held by her. We weren’t close like that. Yet afterward, I felt especially connected to her as my aunt when she hugged me and confirmed my realization.  

They weren’t there to attack my mother. They were there to comfort her. 

It was the beginning of summer on a hot sweaty day when my brother’s body turned cold. 

That day, June 30, 2017, he didn’t wake up. He was 28. 

I had never been woken up so abruptly and with fear until this point. I think sometimes the idea of waking up to a morning like this again is haunting. 

Further into my reading on anticipatory grief, there were multiple ways listed to try and help people who deal with it like me. You can talk to someone else who struggles with it and allow the feelings of grief.

Whenever I am sad or mad or just emotional, I let myself feel those feelings for the time being. I think that’s a very important concept rather than just bottling it in. But to allow feelings of grief and let myself feel those feelings in anticipation of a death, not even a death that has occurred yet, seems cruel. Yet, something it seems I can’t help either way. 

To answer my boyfriend’s original question, no. It seems I can never move on. Whether it be because of a death that has occurred in my life or because of one that I am anticipating to come. But by choice, or habit, I strive on and live on, always trying to protect those who I value so dear.