One of the hardest things for me about losing a child is feeling that no one really understands what it is like. Even my friends who have lost children. They didn't lose Cora. And I didn't lose their children. We now all have this horrible thread woven into our lives, but each thread is different. Then there are those who are so near and dear to us, who have been by our sides each and every day, but who can't fully understand.
I am not an avid reader of other blogs, but there are a few out there that when I have a few moments I like to read. "Like" feels like an odd choice of word given what I am about to write about, but I can't find another word that feels more appropriate. A blog I read is by a mother who lost her son, a seventh grader, a few weeks before we lost Cora. I "like" her blog because she is brutally honest and sweet and angry and faithful and doesn't gloss over tough topics. Today she wrote: "I was an ardent meeting-goer
in my previous life, but at this point there is no way I'm going to get all up
in arms about the minutiae of church business or youth sports, or whatever. I
mean, seriously, if it's not about LOVE or LIFE or DEATH or HEAVEN, it seems
like bull to me at this point."
In the words of another blogger I read, Sister On.
4 comments:
It's true that no tragedy is like another, yet there can be a commonality. More than once since my run of deaths, someone has done or failed to do something and s/he expected me to be angry. And I heard myself saying, "There are events worthy of a good freak out, and this is not one of them."
It is true that so many things become trivial and just fall away when we are faced with terrible tragedy, although I would never pretend to know or ever completely understand the loss of a precious child. I had a dream about you last night Suzanne - and although I have not been remembering my dreams much lately, I remembered this one, at least a little bit of it. I was holding your hands in mine and wishing with all my might for your health and well-being. I do that when I am awake too.
It's one of those great catch-22s of life, isn't it? Wanting someone to empathize with and truly understand how you feel yet not wishing that kind of pain on anyone.
I am grateful that you find a measure of solidarity or comfort anywhere.
And Sister On (I love this!)indeed - we all need a reminder sometimes to look at the big picture instead of our own little frame.
XOXO
My son just had his heart broken for the first time last week, and the strangeness of seeing his pain was new to me. Our children teach us so much. Losing them -- I can't even bear the thought of my little-big guy not floating around somewhere in my world. He's going to college next year, and that's enough to make me want to grab on and never let go.
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