Grief Has a Life of its Own

One day at a time...

Matthew 5:4 ESV

Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.

The loss of your child has been described as the most soul-crushing pain a human will ever experience. As a parent, you conceived that little human, gave birth with great joy and pride, and, hopefully, spent years in relationship, raising the child in the way s/he should go so that when s/he is old, will not depart from it. (Proverbs 22:6). With their death, so many years of hopes, dreams, goals, and plans pass away too. The finality of never seeing/feeling/hugging/kissing that person again, not watching them fulfill a lifetime of joys, sorrows, adventures, and successes, leaves an unimaginable void and emptiness.

When the first shock of the permanency of the loss begins to fade, even just a little, a tsunami of emotions take on a life of their own. Some parents want to share their feelings with others. Some may never be able to put their emptiness and sadness into words.  One parent may need to talk a great deal about the loss and the events leading to the death, while another may become quiet and withdrawn. The parent-child relationship with the other children – and grandchildren – will take on a new form as the empty seat at the table can never be refilled.

Whether the death is sudden or protracted, whether the child is four or forty, the loss is equally profound.

Guilt and anger come up early in the journey. The thoughts ramble on:

• Was there something else I could have done or should not have done?

• Is there something I failed to say to the doctors?

• Was there something I could have done to protect him better?

While those thoughts are normal, they are harmful. The coulda-woulda-shoulda circular arguments do nothing but torture the already hurting heart. Whatever decisions were made were the best that could have been made at the time with the information at hand.

If you find your “self-chatter” sifting through all the “what ifs” over and over and over again, take control of those thoughts and tell them PEACE - BE STILL!!  Focus your mind elsewhere – read or listen to a book, listen to music, sing a song, do some physical tasks, answer your emails. Ruminating on past events is harmful to your mental health, your healing process, and your forward movement.

Ongoing intense feelings of emptiness and loneliness are also normal and part of the separation process. Some parents have reported feeling empty, dead inside, almost as if a part of them died, too. If the death has been slowly over time, as in cancer therapies, parents can be preoccupied with how their child died. But in time, thoughts of death become less, and remembering the child’s life takes precedence.

Grief is a unique animal.

Everyone processes grief in their own way, and it should be on each person’s own individualized timeline. Well-meaning friends and family should not try to rush the process. It is truly a journey that doesn’t have a defined endpoint. And the process is not linear. Months after the funeral, when the intensity of the loss begins to lighten to where a parent may be able to talk about, and even laugh over, happy memories of past events, something will trigger the pain – a picture, a song, a memento. The sadness comes roaring back, and you feel like you’ve fallen back into the abyss of pain and sorrow all over again.

Unfortunately, that’s a normal part of the process.

Even though early on it feels like this enormous emptiness will become the New Normal, the good news is God has designed intense grief to lessen over time.

I have never lost a child, but I lost my husband of nearly 10 years. My companion, my best buddy, my closest friend. At his Wake, a friend approached me and said, “You can’t delegate this process. You have to slog through it. And time will heal the pain.” In that moment, I want to smash her teeth down her throat. I thought, “NO! This pain will never go away. The loss is too big, too much, too final!!”

But she was right.

Slowly, the loss became a shadow, small but always present. After 11 years, even the shadow has faded. Now, only the good memories remain, with an occasional whisper of the sadness from being alone without my Mr. Happy Guy.

It is a heavy burden to carry the loss of a child with you for the rest of your life. There’s the Year of Firsts – that everyone who has lost a special person must wade through. But certain dates, such as your child’s birthday and the anniversary of your child’s passing, can trigger these periods of pain. It is extremely important for grieving parents to be patient with themselves and each other when the bad days come.  

Remember, grief is an individual process. Learn to love each other more deeply through this traumatic process. Remember to care for those in your extended family – children and grandparents – as they pass through the grieving process in different yet similar ways.

One of my closest friends lost a child this week after a long battle with cancer. I’ve walked with him through this burden for the last 2.5 years, even though the illness had a six-year travail. We’ve had countless phone calls, shared endless prayers for healing, and believed in God’s ability to restore completely. But God had a different plan. As sad as the loss is, knowing that his child is no longer in pain, is no longer being tortured by the medical system, and is now in the arms of Jesus offers a tremendous amount of comfort, even though the grieving process must still occur along with the adjustment of no longer having his only son. I love you, Brian, and will continue to pray for you and your whole family. God’s grace is with you.

Today’s Prayer

Dear Heavenly Father, it is part of the human experience to live through birth, life, and death. But we are reminded of the old hymn, “O death, where is thy sting? Where grave, thy victory?” No matter the level of our grief or the intensity of our loss, we cling to You and Your promises. We truly believe and confidently know we will reunite with our loved ones who have passed before us.

Tenderly hold our hurting hearts and soothe our hair as we shed tears on Your chest. As much pain as we feel, we give it all to You. Jesus, You promised to be with us, no matter what. And we know that You and the Holy Spirit are crying with us, too. You feel our pain. You promised to help carry our load. We’re grateful for Your help. You are closer than our next breath. With You, we’ll carry on, knowing the end is to be with You. In Jesus’ name, Amen.