Recently, 239 passengers boarded Malaysian Airlines Flight 370, traveling from Kuala Lumpur, the capital of Malaysia, to Beijing, China. Flight 370 was reported missing shortly after failing to make the scheduled 6:30 a.m. landing in Beijing on March 8, 2014.

More than a week later, despite the massive search effort comprised of twelve nations, Flight 370 is still missing. For now, 239 people, each with their own set of relationships, are just gone.

The last words heard from Flight 370 are simply, “All right, good night.” All right, good night. The people connected to those aboard the flight have little but those four words to hold on to. The theories of foul play, the stolen passports and ‘deliberate action’, these theories speak to the human need for closure.

As an outsider, the spirit of hope is apparent, and I know that on some level, these theories offer a tie to sanity that for those affected by this disappearance is vital. I cannot imagine or pretend to understand the agony that this lack of closure is causing for those families, those friends, those lovers whose lives are on hold. How a person can carry on living day to day with so much missing is beyond my understanding. How long these 239 passengers will remain vanished is currently unknown.

One undeniable aspect of the human experience is that of loss. As people, loss is a given. Physically, people tend to lose things such as hair, teeth, memory and vision. Weight loss can be mitigated, certainly, through exercise and dietary adjustments, but even with weight loss, there are variables such as mental discipline and the individual’s metabolism. Emotionally, loss has a more distinct, smoldering flavor that cooks on a level that can be unbearable at times.

I am no stranger to loss. The notional yet very real hole created by loss is not a shrinking thing. Rather, loss is a crater that expands with slow burning edges, each loss serving as fuel. One controllable element in dealing with loss is the human ability to manipulate thought. While that serves some consolation, the practice can be tiresome.

This practice proves especially tiring when coping with the loss of a loved one. Family members, friends, romantic interests, these are losses that most people are familiar with. A common thread running through each of these losses is that of closure. Closure stops the fuel from reaching the embers. It calms the torrid breeze of loss, allowing the burn to subside and the owner of loss to move forward.

Friends will grow distant. Lovers will find new lovers. Family members will age and die. These people will go and not return. The reasons behind this sort of loss are varied: miscommunication, boredom and physical maladies. These are at the very least valid reasons. Hurtful, yes, but these losses can be resolved with time.

The key component in these losses is closure, knowing that friends may change, lovers may grow complacent and the human body does have an expiration date. Closure is priceless. Without it, the hole of loss is free to continually burn, causing damage that will not easily be repaired.

I have learned to accept many things. My battle with addiction has served me greatly in many ways. I have learned to look more on what I have and dwell less on what I lack. I have resolved the losses that can be resolved. I understand that my father died of old age, weakened organs. He is gone, he will not return, but I have closure in this matter, so I can accept this emotionally.  While I am fortunate in this regard, I have come to understand closure is in all reality a luxury in this existence. A luxury that I hope is soon afforded to those missing and those missing them.

mmacdonald@mavs.coloradomesa.edu