It started simply enough. I received a text message from a client I have seen for many years telling me she had just become a grandmother for the second time. I was so happy for her. So why were rivers of tears running down my cheeks? Because the grief was literally hitting me in the face. Soon, I would no longer get these text messages from my clients. Soon, their life events would be something of which I would have no knowledge. I would not know about the births, deaths, graduations, and weddings. I would not learn about the new jobs or the new homes. The big wins. The big losses. Instead, I will have random thoughts that flit through my brain. “I wonder how this person is doing?” And there will be no way to answer the question. Instead, I will hold their memory close in my heart and send them love.

The love of a therapist is one of the most unique experiences. Being a therapist is a profession. And the experience of love is a personal phenomena. So how do they fit together? Love is defined by many as “an intense liking”, or a “warm, personal attachment”. Love is seen in the eyes of lovers, the sound of laughter between friends, or the gentle kiss of a mother on a child’s brow. But love in a therapist is seen in a strong commitment to a client, a deep sense of unconditional acceptance, and a desire for the client to live their best and most authentic life. Love in a therapist is walking with someone through the traumas of their life and being the steady, reassuring voice in the dark. Love in a therapist is working so hard to survive cancer, at the same time you offer compassion to someone who wants to end their life. Love in a therapist is remembering the details of your clients’ narratives so that they know that someone heard their story, really heard their story.

If I am honest with myself, the most difficult part of my decision to retire was that I have more therapist’s love to give. I am so aware of that love waiting inside as I do final sessions these days. As I get closer to retirement, I feel the desire to overload my clients with love. Here, take some extra love for the road. The truth is that there are others out there with a therapist’s love who are ready to offer that to my clients. They will share the next leg of the journey with them. And the truth is the love I have to give lives in a tired body that needs my attention.

And so, I grieve that I will not longer be able to offer the love of a therapist to my clients. And at the same time, I dwell in a place of gratitude that I ever got to.

Be well, my dear readers.