As I travel down this road of grief I am unfortunately not alone. I have read several blog, posts, and gleaned first hand knowledge from my Compassionate Friends Group to know the path may be the same but we experience grief in our own way.
Some have lost their children through violence, suicide, sickness, or a heart that just stopped beating. While our paths may diverge at times we are united in the pain we feel from the loss of our future. It is never the past we mourn. We mourn all the would haves, should haves, and could haves. We mourn our expectations for what we thought the future would hold for us.
This is by no means written in stone but here are some insights which may help you support a grieving parent for they are what I want.
1. Say our child’s name and say it often. Better than saying their name is when you give us a story or word that you remember about the child. I had a friend tell me she is dealing with her child being tender headed and she remembers the stories I told her of experiencing it with Courtney Michelle. Her telling me she remembered was worth more than then all the gold at Fort Knox.
2. To the world we show our mask of strength but when the day has ended and the night falls so does our mask. I have always portrayed myself as a strong person. My mother tells me frequently that no one would know what was wrong in my world unless I told them. I’ve kept people at bay because I felt I could handle any situation no matter what.
Recently, on a show, Hoda Kotb talked about Kathy Lee dealing with loss of her husband. KL asked everyone to stay at bay so she could deal with her loss. Hoda showed up at her house and Kathy Lee looked at her and said “Thank you for not listening to me”.
In hindsight I wish one of my friends had done that for me. They did exactly what I asked and kept their distance so how can I feel remorse or sad they actually listened to me. So no matter how hard the grieving parent is holding you at bay – keep pushing. Sometimes just having a warm body next to you is more than enough.
3. It’s been three plus years so I should be over it – right? There are times I cannot mentally pick myself up and move forward. If you give me positive words of encouragement or be happy slogans don’t take offense if I ignore you or lash out at you. Nothing and I mean nothing will fill the void of a lost child. Losing a child is losing part of your future. Once that child is conceived, whether you want to admit or not, you have fantasies of what their life will be like and what role you will play in it. I don’t care if that child is 24 weeks gestation, 24 years old, or 54 years old – you have a dream(s) for the child.
I have learned this emptiness and heartbreak is a part of me and always will be. And there will be times that I mentally cannot pick myself up. If you want to support me just stay by my side. Accept me for this rollercoaster of emotions I live minute to minute. I will never be “over” it. It is now my life.
4. On a recent visit back to New Hampshire I was feeling lonely and sad that no one said my child’s name. My best friend, My Dawnie, reminded me that some don’t know what to say so instead of saying something they feel may be hurtful they say nothing. Let me tell you now, saying nothing is worse than saying the wrong thing. Well, sometimes. What you don’t want to say – “it’s been three years you need to move one”, “you are making everyone feel uncomfortable”, “you have other children”, ‘think of your grandchildren”. Don’t tip toe around me. Talk to me! My loss has made me sad not you. I may laugh or cry by something you say but it is not you – it is my sucky life.
5. I beg of you – do not equate the loss of an animal, parent, sibling, or best friend with the loss of someone who has lost a child. I acknowledge that your lost is the greatest thing you have ever felt. I ask that when you are trying to sympathize with a parent who has lost a child start your disclaimer with “I have lost my xxxx and that is greatest pain I have felt so I can’t imagine what your pain has been.” For you animal lovers please, I beg, do not equate your loss to that of a child. Yes, Fido may have been the light of your life and your baby but please, the depth of the loss is not the same.
I wish I could give you a playbook on handling a grieving parent but I all I can give you is my insight and what I have heard from others. Otis Redding’s ‘Hard to Handle’ sums up the contradiction in what I want and what will be.
My Puppy! I miss you, oh how I miss you!!!
Journey In Grief 