Why I'm not looking for closure

One of the prevailing myths in North America’s mourning-avoidant culture is that within a relatively brief time after a loved one dies, we will want and receive closure. Living in liminal space and profound pain, we yearn to end such grief, to lose the sense that we’re on the bridge to nowhere. After our 25-year-old daughter Krista died while volunteering in Bolivia, as parents we heard the term often.

The concept emerges in sitcoms and crime shows, and in reporting after disasters and tragedies. So people assume it exists and therefore they need “to find closure.” I remember wondering, “Does this happen all at once, or in a particular season, like after the first year?”

But this popular language of closure proves disheartening, even destructive. Often the subtext is “It’s time to move on.” It offers a false hope and adds pressure when living with lifelong loss.