The agonizing road of child loss; lonely, misunderstood.

To parents who’ve never lost a child:
 
We don’t blame you for not understanding, but please try to put yourself in a grieving parent’s mind. Remember, we all used to be one of you. We’ve lost other family members and grieved deeply, but there is no loss like when our child dies; this kind of grief begs to destroy our souls, and very well can without the right support.
 
Why don’t we “just heal?” That’s like telling someone in the wild whose limbs have been torn to shreds by an animal to get up and walk to safety. Impossible.
 
Try to imagine your child being ripped from your arms and thrown over a cliff. How could you possibly think of anything else at that moment but to save them. That’s the battle we fight each and every day. Losing a child is a physical and mental battle of torment of trying to accept that our child has disappeared off the face of this earth and there is nothing we can do about it. If they were murdered, killed in a careless way or driven to their death by abuse or some other form, that’s an even deeper layer of pain.
 
What is child loss like? One: Every waking moment we desperately need to know that our child is okay. We constantly wonder where they are, if they are they safe. We’d give our lives for just a few moments to see and touch their faces, to hold them in our arms one more time and know they truly are safe.
 
For those whose child died tragically. Do we ever accept the reality that we’ll never see our child again? Never…. They’re gone and all the longer they’re gone all the more frantic we become to see them again. (most days our turmoil won’t allow us to grasp that there is a heaven; if so, how could we be allowed this kind of torment? And still, we pray and live for those moments of relief: God, you are there and I beg that you help us to trust your purpose.
 
Those who’ve never lost a child, try to volunteer when you see your child hurdled over that cliff, maybe beaten and tossed over. You’ll run screaming to save them. That’s our daily battle.
 
You may feel exasperated that we aren’t moving on, tired of our grief, but know we are worn to the bone. Still, we keep trying, we have no other choice. Please help by understanding that we aren’t feeling sorry for ourselves, we aren’t wanting pity, we’re just trying to get up on these torn limbs enough to face the day.
 
Please, allow us to talk it out by supporting the process. If we make it 5 – 10 – 15 years and on, even then, a flashback can bring the tears pouring from our eyes and our souls trembling in the reality that our child is gone. That’s the cost of child loss.
 
Just because you see us smile, or even laugh, if you could see beneath into our souls you would hear the screaming and the begging for our child to return to us. That’s the cost of child loss. We are the bravest, most carrying people on earth because we know the ultimate pain. Try to understand how difficult this is and all we need is the right kind of support to make it a bit easier.
 
Help us by listening, be patient because it could be you who walks this road one day.
 
Parents who have lost a child, feel free to comment on your own pain so that “maybe” some will listen and help. Even if it’s only one or two, maybe a handful, even then the time it takes to read and support will have been worth the time it takes.
Advertisements

About kathleenjanzanderson

My life changed on October 14, 2014 when my son Chad died. He had the most beautiful, giving soul. And my goal in life is to tell his story. Official website: www.kathleenjanzanderson.com
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s