I vividly recall the first time after my son’s passing that someone said to me,” You are so strong. I would die if something happened to one of my kids.”
It was two weeks after my son’s funeral. It was the first time I had ventured out with my daughter in an attempt to spend some quality time with her. We stopped at a fast food place for a beverage. A woman whom I had never met but somehow knew me, approached me and said the above. I had no idea how to respond in that moment.
Internally, I was upset that she said this to me. She was the first of many more to make a comment along this line in the first months. In truth, I had once told my kids, “ If anything were to ever happen to you I would die.” I am sure this woman had said the same to her children. She probably believed this just as I once did.
The truth at that time was I had never felt less strong. I felt like my life had lost any semblance of control. I wanted to scream, “I wasn’t given a choice. What am I supposed to do? Curl up in a corner and die? “
The truth now at five years bereavement is I WAS strong and I AM strong. I am stronger than I ever knew I could be. I girded my loins and set forth to move forward. At the minimum, I was trying not to sink under the weight of my grief.
To “gird one’s loins” is a reference from the Bible. The Jews traditionally wore long robes. When they were set to go on a long journey or set to do hard work, they would tie a belt around their waist in order to not be hampered by their clothing.
Isn’t that what we as bereaved parents do? We eliminate distractions in our lives, focus inward, and set about rebuilding our lives after the world crashes on the life we have built for ourselves. It is the hardest, most lengthy task I have ever had to do.
Everything in my life is now viewed through the lens of child loss. I tend to make choices differently now. I take no one or anything for granted anymore. I do not take my home, my husband, my living children, finances, friends, etc as a given anymore. I live in a state of knowing that anything can be temporary.
On one hand, I consider this to be an emotional loss of security. On the other hand, I now live in a constant state of gratitude for the good in my life.
I have changed. Despite the loss of having my son physically with me, I try my best to use the lessons I have learned for good. I am more empathetic. I am more aware of the suffering of others. I am much more liberal in my view of the world. I know bad things do happen to good people through no fault of their own. I have more grace towards others.
In the early months/ years I felt anything but strong. I now look back and know I was strong even when I felt like I wasn’t.
Other bereaved parents are strong, too. Maybe not the way others may think you are. You are strong because you love fiercely and you keep your child alive in your heart. The fact that you have sought out a support group like this one lets me know you want to live with hope that you can find joy again.
To others, we are strong. Just by continuing to breathe and attempting to move forward we all provide hope for others in any type of adversity. Someone looks at each of us and says to themselves, “ If they can survive child loss, I can survive this.” We didn’t ask to be role models or inspiration to others. But we are, despite our wish that we had never been put into this situation at all. Once, we all thought only “ other people” go through things like this. Well, to your neighbor YOU are “ other people”.
For those who have not experienced significant loss, you have the power to be strong as well. Learning to be resiliant is like exercising a muscle. We build resiliancy in the way we choose to handle everyday challenges and annoyances.
Learn to recognize these challenges as an opportunity to become closer to God. When, not if, adversity comes your way, you can be ready to use the lessons in resiliancy. You can seek out those who have experienced the same thing before you. We never feel strong at anything in the moment but you will look back and be proud you made it through the challenge.
Instead of telling someone, “ You are so strong”, perhaps we can seek to encourage them by saying, “ I lnow you don’t feel strong right now, but to me you are strong. I will be thinking of you.”
To all the people who attempted to encourage me when I couldn’t absorb it, thank you for making the effort to comfort me. Keep doing that for others. If you aren’t sure of the right thing to say in that moment, try saying, “ I am so sorry that you are experiencing this challenge. You are in my thoughts and prayers. “
Peace and love to you all.
She writes about life, death, grief, and recovery.
- Seven Years - September 16, 2023
- Healing After Child Loss - June 19, 2022
- “You Are So Strong” - March 11, 2022
