Pann, I’m so sorry that you lost your son. I hope you and your daughters find some comfort from each other. I’ll be thinking of you.
Pann, I read once that when you lose a child, you die a little death.
You and your family are in my thouhts.
Pann, I understand what you’re going through —I lost a child, too. She was much younger but I understand. Please go to the counselor, take advantage of the help and know that someday it won’t hurt so bad. It will always hurt but it won’t always be this bad. I’m offering a prayer for you for strength.
It won’t always be this bad.
Ah, you’re making me cry! On top of all my troubles that I’m bummed out over, and now you’re making me cry! (and making me realize all my troubles are as petty as an anthill compared to your terrible loss). I have one child and if I ever lost her I don’t know that I would survive it… I can only say I wish you healing, that you know you are not alone, and hope to hear back from you here, someday, that things are more…bearable. Peace!
Losing a child is my deepest fear. It’s hard to even read this thread, but I want you to know we do care and we are listening.
That’s the thing about loss and grief…you can’t cut corners or skip to the end. You’ll handle what you can, when you can, but you WILL have to go through it to get past it. You’re doing alright, and what you’re feeling is entirely normal. Keep with the counselor, keep talking to your daughters, it won’t ever be EASY, but having other people help…helps.
Thanks to everyone for the encouragement.
I just left the doctor. Can’t remember a damned thing that I said to him or he said to me. I feel completely drained. My eyes are red and burning.
My memory isn’t working. I’ll have complete conversations with someone and not remember afterward. Time is running short. I have commitments that must be met and don’t have the ability to make them. I have to get my head screwed back on straight very soon.
I’m suddenly finding myself very much not wanting to go to the cemetery this afternoon. But I told my daughters that we would go together. My son is no longer here. But my two beautiful girls are and I have to be there for them. They are the reason I have to keep going. They are my life.
I’m so sorry for your loss, Pann. My mother is going through the same thing you are and a lot of what you wrote sounds very familiar. My youngest brother died almost four months ago. He was 18. She’s struggling a lot and she’s very depressed. She does listen to his music a lot (he made mix CDs for all of us). She says she’s OK when she keeps busy, but the sadness catches up with her sooner or later. This has been hard on all of us, but either because of her personality or because she was the busiest in caring for him, she had less time to prepare for what was coming and reconcile herself to life without him. Or maybe she was just in denial until the end. In that sense it’s hit her the hardest. She’s seeing a grief counselor every week, which has helped. The house is quieter without him - much quieter, come to think of it, since he played the drums - and she doesn’t get to cook with him. She spent almost all of her time with him, especially as his health declined. She still sleeps in his bed. Distracting herself isn’t easy because she finds it hard to msuter the energy to focus on things. She hasn’t given up; it’s just very hard to find a reason to keep going. A lot of things don’t seem worth the trouble, and I think we’re all sad as we adjust to the idea that while the misery fades, the grief and the absence don’t. That’s a very hard adjustment to make.
I have no idea if any of that is helpful but there are other people out there feeling this, and I sympathize. It sucks.
My heart aches reading your and Marley’s words. I can’t imagine the grief. Pann, your son sounded like a remarkable person.
My deepest sympathies to you and your daughters.
On January 12, 2004, my mother was in a car accident that claimed the life of my 2-year-old niece. The loss never really goes away. Indeed, I don’t think I want it to. But it does get easier to bear.
You’ll get through this. Until then, your daughters, family, and us are all here for you. You’re in my thoughts.
I’m shocked and saddened to hear about your loss, Pann. I’m so sorry.
I’m so sorry, Pann. I lost my sister in a car accident a little over a year ago (thread), and dealing with that on my own in addition to trying to be there for my parents has proved very taxing. I don’t pretend that losing a sibling is the same as losing a child though, and being childless myself, I can only imagine the kind of pain that must cause.
All I can say is just keep putting one foot in front of the other, tell your remaining children that you love them, and let them help you get through this. It won’t do anybody any good to push them away; now is the time to draw them closer together.
And one last thing: There’s no correct timeframe for this kind of thing. If you don’t feel like you’re ready to visit the cemetary on a given day, then don’t. If you’re not ready to throw something out, then don’t. Don’t let anybody tell you “it’s time” to do something, because it’s not time until you say so.
Suggestion: talk to your daughters. Find out if *they *really want to go to the cemetery. They may feel the same way you do, and a nice lunch out together, or some time sitting in your living room hugging and crying together might be more therapeutic for all of you. If someone wants to go, of course consider going with her, but it would be all kinds of silly for the three of you to keep going to cemetery because you all assume the others want to.
I’m sitting here at my desk at work crying. I’m sooo sorry,Pann
I have no words. I can’t even imagine.
Whatever you do - please keep talking. And please keep seeking help.
Today my mom related a story of something that happened about a year after her first son died (congenital defects). She was working in a lawyer’s office, and one of the partners lost a child in a similar way (or perhaps stillborn).
The day he came back to work, my mom went into his office, sat down and said “Don’t be alone. Surround yourself with people who love you, who will listen to you. Cry. Scream. Rage. Laugh if you have to. Feel what you need to feel, and remember that you are not alone. Others have gone through this, or gone through something similar, and for some reason we never talk about it, but it’s there and we live with it and it’s ok to hurt.”
Paraphrased, of course…and she said it in French…but I couldn’t say it any better than that!
I’m sorry for what you’ve gone through. Talk to your daughters, and let them talk to you; you all need to grieve in your own ways, but you can grieve together too.
Marley, I knew it was coming, but somehow I missed the news about your brother’s death. I’m so very sorry for your loss.
Pann and Marley23. I’m so sorry for your loss.
Pann, I can’t imagine the pain and grief you must feel. Surrounding yourself with people who love you, staying close to your daughters… they will help you go on, one day at a time.
As someone who lost a brother (age 27), and a husband (in his 30s), I can’t even bear to think of losing a child. I opened this thread twice to reply, but had to stop because your pain was so hard to bear.
Others have put it better than I ever could, but I have experienced what you did: shoving my grief behind a door in my mind, going on with my life, opening the door once in a while and feeling the unbearable abyss of loss, shutting that door again just as quickly. Well, I did that for a long time after my husband’s death. Seven years. Then I had a breakdown and had to face it. Don’t do that. Cry, rant, storm, grieve. Don’t let anyone tell you how long it should take to recover from such a loss.
You are right to go for counselling, I wish I had. You have daughters who share your grief and need your love too, stay close to them, to each other.
Marley, I know what it is to lose a dearly beloved brother. Words fail me. I’m so very sorry.
Heartbreaking. I’m so sorry and I hope as the years pass it will become a bit easier to live with rather than the raw pain it is now.
I can’t imagine what it’s like to lose a child. But please know that you are not alone. You can get through this. Celebrate your son’s life and the memories you have of him. Acceptance of his passing will be difficult, but once you do, you will find that the rest will get better.