When Life Changes Overnight: Coping with Sudden Loss

Hey friends. This next episode deals with the sensitive topic of the recent LA fires, so listen with care. (tech music) Hey, friends, it's Rosie here. Welcome to Radio Headspace, and to Monday. Just a few months ago, my partner and I packed bags in the dark, unsure if we'd have a home to return to. There was no time to process, no time to think about the life we had built within the walls of our home. It was just what do we take? What do we leave, and what do we do if none of it is here tomorrow? I wanna start off this week by talking about something that happens to all of us at some point during our journey, loss. But not just any loss, the kind that comes suddenly without warning, the kind that changes everything overnight. On January 7th, 2025, I got a call from my sister who lives near Altadena. She told me a fire had sparked and was spreading fast. Some of their friends had already been evacuated. The wind was relentless, fueling the flames as they moved unpredictably. By nightfall, the fire had grown beyond control, and then as if the city itself was unraveling, the Palisades fire ignited and tore through the canyons, spreading towards Topanga, right behind our home. I kept hearing that phrase in my head, "Everything is replaceable." And for the most part that's true, but when I reached for my Abuelita's necklace, the book I wrote in kindergarten, the mala beads she last touched before she passed, I realized some things aren't replaceable. They carry history, they carry love, and in that moment, I understood loss in a way I never had before. There are certain things in life that no amount of money, no insurance claim, no new version can ever truly replace. A crocheted blanket from your grandmother, worn, but still holding the scent of her perfume, an old photograph of your grandfather edges frayed from years of being handled with care. Your child's first hand print pressed into clay with tiny, imperfect fingers. The final letter from a loved one who passed, their words now, all you have left. These things aren't just objects, they're proof of love, of time, of existence itself, and when they're gone, they leave a hollow space that no new version can truly fill. If you've ever experienced sudden loss, here's something that helped me, start by acknowledging what you're feeling without rushing to fix it, without comparing it to someone else's loss, without telling yourself, you should be over it by now. Grief doesn't follow a timeline and healing isn't linear. It's okay to still be struggling. Instead of carrying it alone, reach out to a friend, a neighbor, to your community. Even if it's just a text that says, this has been really hard and I don't know what to do with it. Sometimes just speaking it out loud reminds us that we don't have to...