Friends have thoughtfully reached out recently, asking if the recent local tragedy — news of the child who died — has hit me especially hard, given my own child loss.
It is logical — and thoughtful — people would ask.
But child loss comes in so many unique circumstances, I often feel unequipped to address it universally.
Something I *have* thought repeatedly is “𝘏𝘖𝘞 𝘥𝘰 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘯??? 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘭!”
I don’t know what it’s like to carry my child to full term, and deliver a baby I know will die within hours.
I don’t know what it’s like to lose my child in an accident.
I don’t know what it’s like to lose my child to suicide.
I don’t know what it’s like to see my child beat drug addiction, and then die from an overdose.
I don’t know what it’s like to have a child die at the hands of another person. Of having someone to direct my anger towards.
I certainly don’t know what it’s like to lose 2 children.
Or to lose a child publicly.
But I do know mothers who have experienced ALL of those losses.
Every time I learn of another mother’s loss, the Old Me thinks, “𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘦 . . .“
Except that now, in a cruel twist of Life’s Unfairness, I can. Every loss is unique. But there ARE threads that bond us to each other.
These threads cause me — and probably all of us — to be highly protective over these sisters. These threads connect us across every difference the world would say divides us.
These are threads of grief the depth of which words can never fully explain, express, or encompass.
But. There actually 𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘯’𝘵 more children dying now than there were 8 years ago. I’m simply hyper aware of it, because it’s a loss I have endured personally. Just like abused women are advocates for others who are abused, or widows know many whose spouses have also passed, & people who are divorced connect with friends who are also divorced, or navigating the tricky balance only those in blended families can fully understand.
𝐆𝐨𝐝 𝐠𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐮𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲, so we never have to carry our pain alone. Whatever grief, trauma, or hardship you’ve endured, I’m praying you have a small tribe who has also traveled that same road.
Grief can feel lonely, but we were meant for community. It’s the sharing of our grief that unites & heals us.
: From the Blog, Scribbles & Crumbs, a fellow Loss Mom shared with me years ago. http://www.scribblesandcrumbs.com/…/to-the-grieving-momma/
Recent Comments