Shed No Tears for Things Not Meant to Be

Easier said than done but life has to go ahead even without a lilac tree at the gate

REMEMBER when you applied for an internal job, a position in a different department that would mean a step up in the company?

You’re a top-notch engineer so you’re feeling upbeat. You’ve also been with the company for close to nine years, and your rival for the position has worked in another department for only half of that.

You thought the internal job was in the bag — yours.

But you did not get the coveted position. Your rival did. You may be a whiz on the technical side of the job, but you have no managerial experience — unlike the other internal applicant.

So, what would you do? Trash the rival? Badmouth the company for being unfair? Get depressed and blame the world for singling you out, putting a tag, Loser, on your back?

Or, remember a relationship that seemed to you, without a doubt, would and should last forever?

Wedding plans were being made: a garden ceremony it must be, how many guests should be invited, and where the honeymoon should be spent.

You’d even opened a joint bank account to start off your savings for the big event.

Then, before either of you could make the first deposit into the account, the supposed love of your life sent a text message. You started to hyperventilate upon reading the message, that your forever-love found someone new. Wedding plans had to be scrapped. The joint bank account should be closed.

What would you do as a woman? Cry a river? Plan on an act of violent revenge? Sue him for inflicting grievous mental health issues?

Or, like what happened to me recently with regards to house-hunting.

When one’s children have not only flown the coop but are also firmly established in their own lives, downsizing is a normal prerogative for the parents. It’s not practical for only the two of you to live in a house meant for a big family.

So, the search for the next home-sweet-home (with no stairs, mind you) went on, and on, and on. And as everyone knows, finding The One (next sweet home within budget) is not a walk in the park.

One of my husband’s priority requirements is that there must be a strategic room for my office. (He can do his office matters in the dining room.)

Me, too, had some but my number one stipulation is that I do not want us to live in a silly address, like Grope Lane, or Ha-Ha Road, or Crotch Crescent, or Smellies Lane, or worse, Dumb Woman’s Lane.

We found, eventually, what was ideal for me and my husband. There was even a lilac tree by the gate. My daughter rolled her eyes; she chided me for being excited about a tree. (Well, I was!)

In short, the house offer was accepted, everything that had to be done by the property solicitors was done by the book. And with my mindset on this huge change, we were ready to move.

At the last minute, however, the deal fell through.

There went our ideal bungalow, and the grown lilac tree to give company to my two young lilacs in tubs.

Do you think I cried a river or wished the person who slew the house chain, ill?

Short-circuit the process of grieving over the loss

IN life, as I learned in my long, eventful existence, we do not get everything we wanted and we hoped for, even if we have worked so hard to attain and achieve those things.

It may be frustrating and infuriating, like the top-notch engineer who did not get his craved-for position or the hopeful lady whose fiancé jilted her. But in these two instances, big lessons can be learned.

The engineer needed managerial skills; the jilted lady must realize that her fiancé had been cheating on her. For how could her guy find someone else while they were planning for a future life as a couple if he weren’t seeing another woman on the side?

No tears should be shed over these losses. And planning a reprisal is a nonsensical idea if not stupid.

A job applicant who is not accepted in a position being applied for should carry on with the search, bearing in mind the skills set required for the job. If s/he doesn’t possess those skill sets, then the next step is to work out how to attain such qualifications.

A jilted man or woman, meanwhile, should thank their stars for being able to see, before signing marriage documents, the unfaithful side of their intended.

Sure, being cheated on hurts.

But unleashing a flood of tears is not a good idea.

Short-circuit the process of grieving over that kind of loss by allowing your family and close friends to validate to you what is obvious: a cheating boyfriend or girlfriend is not worth a tear.

As for not getting the abode deemed ideal for exact purposes, there could only be these reactions: no tears, no thoughts of slaying the rascal who snuffed my wish for a flowering lilac at the gate. My other half and I just have to keep on with house hunting.

And hopefully, that ideal bungalow with not only a lilac tree but also mature cherry trees in the front garden will not be located along Cemetery Road.

When things aren’t meant to be

There are reasons beyond our vision and understanding why we lose things we craved for or people whose love we yearned for.

They were not meant for us. Or, another way of looking at it is that they were not really ours after all.

Because when things and people are meant for us — at a particular time and place — there is no stopping Fate.

Think about it.

So choose not to shed a tear over a loss that will be replaced — at the proper time — with a big win.

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