This past month has been a strange one for me emotionally. Personally, my family is okay and all are well and doing good. Older kids are back in school and baby and I are finding our new normal again.
Last weekend a friends son died, unexpectedly. It was a loss that no one anticipated and it hit hard. I have done a lot of introspection about why this has felt so personal to me. Here is what almost a week of thinking about this has surfaced.
1.) This was a trigger for me, for my own sudden loss. The loss of my mother. My mind was flooded with thoughts about the day that I received the news. The emotions, the days that followed and the thoughts I still have about her today, all resurfaced.
2.) My village is BIG and I care deeply about all those in my village. The friend who lost his son is my kids pediatrician. He is a man who my kids feel like is not only their dr, but also their friend…and like an uncle. They love and adore him. So many of my worries and fears about their health or safety have fallen on his ears. He has given me so much peace over the last few years. I asked him a question about one of my kiddos and he responded just a few hours before he lost his son. He is a good man.
3.) I’m not okay with death. I don’t understand it. I don’t like it. So much sadness and pain is wrapped in it. I’m not ready for it, I am not ready to hear of others who have passed. I always feel unprepared, yet I know it’s part of life. There are no words to comfort those who have lost a loved one. The pain is fierce, it’s hard, and it’s unbearable at times.
4.) Honest conversations often come after pain is experienced. At least for me, in my life, this is true. My hubby and I have had talks about some “what ifs” and have found some peace that we are unified on things that parents should never have to discuss. We are now planning to have life insurance policies drawn up for each of the kids. Having plans helps me feel more secure. My friend and his wife made the selfless decision to donate their sons organs. 7 people so far have been blessed with a 2nd chance. That is beyond words. That is a gift that only comes from death. I know that choice might not be for all, but it’s one that my hubby and I feel very strongly about.
5.) A harsh reminder that life is not guaranteed. We often get caught up in our daily lives and take each breath for granted. It’s not promised and it could be gone in a second. Since my near death experience a few years ago, we have tried hard to live big and LOVE bigger. To make memories and not put off things we can do today. We have invested time and money into vacations that allow us to escape everyday life, and we do not regret the hard work to do that.
What do you say or do when words are not enough?
I’m so sorry for the loss of your friend. I had a friend who lost her 30-year-old son in February. She and her husband are still so overwhelmed with grief each day that getting through every day life has become a struggle for survival. And I have no idea what to say. Other than to check in with her to let her know I’m praying for her and that she’s in my thoughts. We got to go out to lunch this week – which I left up to her to decide if she felt up to it. It’s hard to see her suffer so much and how much her life has changed. She was always so social and outgoing and now, she just wants to hide in her bed and not deal with life. I don’t know what to say to her. It’s OK because there’s nothing I can say to make it better. I just let her talk about her son when she wants to and listen to her. I don’t offer tips on grief or getting on with life or judge her – I think just being there when she wants to be around someone is all I can do. We did offer our technology help when she was overwhelmed figuring out cell phones and laptops – and I know having my skilled husband assist her with that helped her stop stressing over it. So, I look for ways I can help her get through each day and just pray that she makes it through the struggle of the moment to get to the next day. I’ve heard losing a child (of any age) changes the parents for life. My mother passed away when she was 26 (I was only 6 years old), and now, over 30 years later, you still see and hear the grief and loss when my grandparents talk about her. And they still DO talk about her – stories, wondering what she’d be like, comparing me and my sisters to her… that’s how they’ve learned to survive the loss of their daughter. But when words aren’t enough, actions definitely help – whether it’s a hug, dropping off dinner, mowing the lawn, or just sitting and listening… it all makes a difference.
I love what Giant Sis said above… ” when words are not enough, actions defintely help”
Well said. I cant imagine the pain of losing one of my children.
My grandmother once said to me as I was trying to process the grief of my 2nd misscarriage ” Honey the only thing that I can say is Heaven just got a lot sweeter” It was true I now have even more to look forward to we I get there. The only problem is “the waiting”. I lost two babies I never met. That was hard BUT the very thought of losing my son who turns 7 tomorrow (same age as dr reyes son) I. Simply. Cant. Breathe. Just the thought makes me physically sick.
Many prayers for your Pedi and his family as they try to some how, some way keep pressing toward the mark until they see their son again in the sweet by and by.