Thoughts on losing a child…more than 3 years later
By Lana Golembeski -
After more than 3 years after the death of my only child, I sit and reflect on that loss. The tears do not come every day like they did before. The pit in my stomach has healed…or at least it appears to have healed. On the outside, I appear to be whole again. I laugh and joke with my friends. I play golf, sing, and continue to live my life like I used to…before my only child was taken from me. So have I truly healed? Have I “moved on”?
It seems to me that we do not move on as much as we learn to live with it. My pain has become my friend and goes with me everywhere. I do my best to forget it is hanging around me. And I manage to do that for extended periods of time. But if I let down my guard for a moment, it appears and the heart-wrenching pit in my stomach returns. I think to myself that it just can’t be. It has been more than 3 years…she surely must still be here. The tears return. The emptiness in my soul overtakes any joy or happiness I have found.
So, when the tears are gone, does that mean we have accepted the horror of our lives? Have we learned to live again? It seems to me that we manage to go on with our lives; not because we want to, but because we have to. Our lives have been forever shattered but we have chosen to continue in the memory of our children. I have become calmer now since she left me but the pain in my heart is still there. I am more accepting of the reality of her death. And peace has been a part of my life. But the grief will always walk hand in hand with me. It is now a part of my life that I have accepted. We cannot fight it because reality cannot be changed no matter how much we wish it. And maybe that is what true acceptance is: accepting our grief in an impossible situation …with grace, courage, and honor.
My 2 years and 8 months old daughter died in December of 2004 from the effects of leukemia. Although the grief has softened from the cold terror of the first weeks it can still bring me to my knees. I wouldn’t change this, since it would feel even further away from her. I am forever changed and forever grateful to have known her.
I lost my only son and husband a little over 8 years ago, and grief still hits me like a ton of bricks some days. There is such a thing as a broken heart. My heart hurt so bad after their accident, I couldn’t stand it. Even today my heart aches. I haven’t moved on. The world has and I just get drug right along with it. It is something you don’t get over or forget. I have to be so silent when some dumb ass says “COME ON, IT’S BEEN 8 YEARS ALREADY’ They don’t no the hurt, the mistrust, or the pain I have endured. I’m still dealing with grief, and I will the rest of my life.
I lost my only child, Maddy Leigh 22, on Thanksgiving day 2008. My life feels so small now that she’s gone. I feel the deepest indescribable heartbreak I ever felt … with the inability to describe it.. I know the waves of tears and near insanity will never leave, I will get better at living with it and hiding it. It’s not something I want my friends to ever really understand, then they would have had to experience it..
I lost my son Leo almost 2 years ago on May 6, 2008 he was 34 years old. The pain in the pit of my stomach is still so painful. My heart has been shattered into a thousand pieces I have been told that the pain will never go away but it will get more bearable but after almost 2 years the pain is still so intense. I look at his pictures and I can’t take my eyes of them but the pain is still so fresh that I can’t breathe. When I realize that I will never be able to hold him again I just can’t stop crying. I just watch the door wishing he would walk through it. I have a daughter (Shauna) and he left me a grandson (Evian) and I know that I am here for them or I should say they are here for me and I am thankful for them everyday I could not have gotten through losing Leo without my Shauna.
my daughter died 2 years ago and the funny thing is that now that i am not sad all the time or thinking about it every second of the day, it hits me unexpectedly. like when my surviving daughter spends the night at my ex-husband’s house — her empty bed reminds me of the other empty bed and it’s unbearable. actually, it is bearable — living with sorrow is altogether too possible, and the only reason we are all here now commenting is that we have found a way to bear it. One way to survive it is to remember that most people are living with some great sadness, some deep trauma too, and allow our sadness to open our hearts to all living beings and feel compassion for them, and feel connected rather than isolated. i’m sure some other mother somewhere is starting her day crying in the kitchen too for some loss that can never be remedied…
To read the words of other mothers grieving the loss of there children I know I am not alone and I am not mad the words that are written here are words that I have spoken many times wondering have I slipped my mind or is this what happens when you grieve your child and my heart hurts like that mother said and I feel like that too there is so much comfort in these words written here.
My husband took his own life in February, 2010 and while I read some brochures on dealing with thr grief, it wasn’t enough. I craved information about how others coped during what I felt was (and still is) a surreal period in my life. I started a blog called ‘Those left Behind’ which has helped me get some of my thoughts and feelings down in an effort to try and make some sense of things. I’d like to hear from others who have had a similar experience.
http://wwwthose-left-behind.blogspot.com/