When a child dies, everything shifts.
Every relationship is altered.
Every pattern changed.
Category: child loss
To The Friends Who Stay
Sticking with a friend whose life is hard and is going to continue to be hard is not for the faint of heart.
Not all wounds can be healed.
Not all problems have a resolution.
Not all relationships follow a path that leads to a happy ending.
So here’s to the friends that don’t give up, that refuse to leave and whose presence remind me that while life is painful, it is also beautiful.
Here’s to the ones whose commitment to love me in the dark places reminds me that love still lives.
You’re my lifeline.
What NOT To Say
Humans are hard-wired to say something when silence lingers long between them.
So it’s not surprising that when death makes talking difficult, the person most susceptible to that pressure will often blurt out the first thing that pops into her head.
And it is often, oh, so wrong.
Any sentence that begins with , “Just remember”, “At least” or “I know exactly” is better left unsaid.
Stages of Grief ? Nope.
Ever since Elizabeth Kubler Ross published her best-sellling book, “On Death and Dying” both professionals and laypersons have embraced her explanation of the “five stages of grief”.
The model has been used as a faulty standard to measure grievers’ “progress” for decades.
Trouble is, she got it wrong.
And it is especially wrong for bereaved parents or anyone who suffers traumatic or sudden death.
Grief does NOT look like this:
It looks like this:
Closed For Repairs
Oh how I wish I could hang a sign for just a single day, “Closed for Repairs”!
I keep thinking that tomorrow or next week will be the little bit of respite I need to catch my breath and to do a few things I really must do for my own mental wellness.
But life has conspired to make that impossible.
So here I am, hanging on by a thread again.
Just barely managing to get by.
Just barely managing to not scream in the middle of the grocery store when I can’t lift the case of Powerade bottles into the cart. Just barely able to contain my panic when I reach for my checkbook and can’t find it in the bottom of my purse. Just barely able to keep from crying when the bag rips putting it into the truck.
If the people around me knew how close I am to falling apart or breaking down, they would run away in fear of what might happen if I blow.
Yes, it’s been three years.
But Dominic walked with me on this earth for nearly 24 years. Three years isn’t long enough to adjust to his absence.
I need a day off.
Or a week.
Or a year.
Missing Milestones
Another friend has a new grandchild.
It makes my heart so happy to see families grow and prosper. I love the fresh sweetness of newborn wrinkles and chubby fists.
If I’m honest I have to admit that for every smile that spreads wide across my face in response to posted pictures, there is a tear that slips down from the corner of my eye.
I wish I could feel unadulterated joy like I used to.
But I can’t.
It is impossible for there to be any progeny bearing his smile, his laughter, his brown eyes and overgrown eyebrows. The rhythm that filled his head and tapped, tapped, tapped down the bannister is buried underground.
And that is hard to bear.
Losing a child is not a single event.
It happens over and over and over.
Repost: How to Respond When Someone Shares Their Pain
We’ve all been there-we ask a routine question and someone refuses to play the social game.
We say, “How are you?” and they answer honestly instead of with the obligatory, “I’m fine. You?”
Suddenly the encounter has taken an unexpected turn.
“Oh, no! I don’t know what to say,” you think.
Read the rest here: How To Respond When Someone Shares Their Pain
No Words
Some days there are just no words for this journey.
Sometimes I can only feel what I feel
and do what I do
and cry when I cry.
Today is like that.
I cannot wrap my mind around the FACT that my son is dead.
Am I somehow defective because I can’t?
Can any parent do that?
I know it’s true-I’m not in denial.
But knowing something is true and embracing it as true are two different things. I am forced to walk in the world but not always forced to confront Dominic’s absence.
He could just be on a trip, or away at school, or out of cell phone range. It’s funny the tricks your mind will play to placate your heart.
But this morning when the light pushed back against the darkness my mind refused to continue the charade.
In a moment of clarity, the sword of truth penetrated my soul.
And here I am, naked and bleeding clinging to the fact that I am mother to a dead son.
Nowhere to hide. No way to escape.
No words.
Repost: What Does Healing Look Like?
As I continue to walk this Valley, my heart asks the question, “What does healing look like?”
Fewer tears? Check.
More laughter? Check.
Better able to function? Check.
Read the rest here: What Does Healing Look Like?
Emotional Bankruptcy: I Can’t Spend the Same Energy Twice
I wasn’t born with an “I don’t give a hoot” gene.
When I commit to a person, a project or a problem, I’m all in-no holding back.
That’s why this side of Dominic’s leaving I’ve been very cautious about making commitments. But in the past year I’ve begun branching out and joining in again.
In many ways it has been a positive experience.
In other ways, not so much.
Last evening was one of those times.
Some critical tasks are undone for a large project where deadlines are fast approaching. They are not my assigned tasks although I could perform them if I had the time and/or energy.
But I just don’t have either one.
So there is friction and panic and rush in the group that didn’t need to be there. I won’t withdraw-I’m committed to fulfill my responsibilities but now I am burdened with all this negative emotional energy.
It followed me home and try as I might I was unable to regather my peace of mind.
I had spent all the emotional reserve I had for yesterday on keeping my responses controlled and relatively kind when people were trying to foist extra responsibilities on me as we walked out the door.
By the time I went to bed I was emotionally bankrupt.
The little bit of extra I depend on each night to keep my mind and heart focused on positive things as I drift off to sleep was spent.
I had nothing left.
I got to the edge of sleep over and over and the thought, “Dominic is dead.” flashed like lightning through my mind. The thought brought horrible feelings with it. I couldn’t escape no matter how hard I tried.
Eventually, exhausted, I fell asleep. It was an awful sleep. I woke up many times to the same thought all night long. I will suffer for it today-sluggish and unable to concentrate.
THIS is why I can’t afford to get involved like I used to before Dominic ran ahead to heaven-not because I don’t care or I don’t want to-but because I CAN’T.
I cannot spend the same emotional energy twice.
I’ve only got so much to give.
thelifeididntchoose 