Mothers Finding Meaning Again, 3-29-09, 4-7-10, 8-25-10
On Thursday, March 26, 2009, the first meeting of our mother’s group took place at MJ’s home. Nine mothers gathered to talk about their deceased child and share how they are managing now. Some mother’s children have been gone less than two years, several close to ten years, as in my case. I have named our group “Mothers Finding Meaning Again.”
The gathering was deeply spiritual; we felt safe in one another’s company. We shared fruit of the vine, cheese and a few sweets to remember the sweetness of our children. We shared hope.
“All will be well, and all will be well, and all kind of thing will be well,” said the mystic Julian of Norwich. We mothers believe the same for ourselves and for other mothers throughout the world who have had to bear the unbearable sorrow. We pray that other mothers find this site and talk about their loss and finding meaning again.
April 7, 2010
I feel so proud of our Mothers Finding Meaning Again group. We have been together for an entire year now and our souls are aligned forever. We are on a journey together that none of us would have foreseen. We speak a language no one else really wants to hear because it’s about the loss of a precious child. We all understand that. We don’t resent that either because we wish we didn’t have to learn this ‘unspeakable language.’
Our children’s deaths were of varied circumstances. One mom lost twins to Cystic Fibrosis. These two young women died six months apart. None of we other moms can comprehend how she is still standing. Another mom’s precious toddler drowned. Another poor adult child fell under the seduction of alcohol and pills. Another mom’s adult child was multi-handicapped for 3 decades; she never sat up nor spoke. She died suddenly - though peacefully - surrounded in the love of her family. Another child died in a tragic boating accident. Another young adult died of an extremely rare liver condition kept alive for many years because she shared her mother’s liver. Another young adult male died suddenly of a heart condition, and my Katie died at 28 of a brain tumor that she had battled valiantly for 10 years. Another young adult child died as a result of a car accident where he was a passenger. He suffered as a quadriplegic for 5 years before God took him home. Another precious little boy, a child prodigy, came down with a terrible illness and never recovered.
We never know what our life will give to us but one thing I know for sure about the mothers in our group we make every day matter.
August 25, 2010
Our meeting on Wednesday was held outside at MJ’s. The night was perfectly beautiful, sonorous Katydids surrounded us with their rhythms as we welcomed a new mother to our group. Her young adult son died several years ago. He had not been well for sometime. He was her only child and a soul mate. Many of our mothers feel the same about their children, that they were soul mates meaning their individual souls reflected one another, that their souls saw one another’s soul.
The old Irish call that ’seeing kin’ but not in the lay sense of “oh, he’s my uncle or oh, she’s my aunt.” This soul mate is not about blood for we can share blood and not feel connected to someone. Soul mate means to acknowledge the ancient aspect of their relationship which was present long before the child was born. John O’Donohue speaks often of this in his books Anam Cara or Eternal Echoes. He writes of the pain of loss and how “Absence hides the one you love. You desire to be with the beloved, to see her (him), hear her (him), rest in her (his) presence. But she (he) is hidden from your eyes though not hidden from your heart.”
We mothers understand the loneliness which is never absent from the loss of a child. But we go on and are grateful so very grateful for having been their mother.
Tags: Courage, faith, Grief, grieving, hope, Mothers Finding Meaning Again, mothers who lost children, mothers who lost children soul
April 29th, 2009 at 2:05 am
Our second meeting of “Mothers Finding Meaning Again” was beautiful. We welcomed our newest mother whose little boy died in a swimming accident. We felt the sorrow of that time for her and the time that still is ahead for her and for all of us.
We have all come to appreciate that we don’t want to spend time with unkind people, mean or deceitful people, addicted or narcissistic people. We have had enough to live with and through. We like one another in this group. We have made a sacred space in the world with this group.
I am a Certified Group Psychotherapist by profession. I’ve led a hundred groups. Cohesiveness is a group goal which ordinarily takes time to develop. But we are not an ordinary group. We are a group of mothers whose child or children have died. Our cohesiveness took only the time for each woman to say hello. That is unique.
As Mick sang, “time is on my side.” I’ll give it a little twist, “time is on our side” because we don’t live in ordinary time anymore.
May 1st, 2009 at 7:23 pm
I am grateful to be one of the mothers who was invited to join this
very supportive ‘Mothers Finding Meaning Again’ group. After
attending the first gathering I was touched by all the mothers’
compassion and strength. The group offered me strength through
sharing deep loss. Each mother came through the dark night and
is now on the other side. Grace and beauty was evident. Knowing
that each person in the group know exactly how I feel is priceless.
I look forward to our monthly meetings.
May 4th, 2009 at 5:00 am
I also feel gratitude to have been welcomed into this lovely group. As I was driving home after the first meeting I felt awe. It seemed that the power in that room full of mothers could have lifted up a building! Each one had her heart pierced in many different ways and yet she was able to find a measure of joy again. There was an abundance of encouragement and kindness despite such deep heartbreak.
It seems that we all have a common goal — to help each other make every day matter.
May 11th, 2009 at 10:11 am
Great article! I love Mother’s Day because it’s a day to give appreciation to all the hard working mothers out there.
If you’re a mother, go to the link below for your free Mother’s Day gift!
http://bit.ly/free-mothers-day-gift
June 2nd, 2009 at 3:10 am
From my experiences from attending many groups over the years… The following quote motivates me….’No man is an island’. We are not meant to live alone……Hope gives me the desire not to isolate. It is a gift to be in a group where you can feel understood….and feel safe and accepted. I have learned, the hard way, that if I don’t share what is REALLY going on with me, I pay the price. Once I actually hear myself voice my feelings, I feel better. If I am understood, I feel a healing.
There are days, when I feel that I do not have any Hope. Then I think of Joe and know he does not want me to be hopeless .This gives me strength to pray for Hope. Every day is a gift and I am doing my best to appreciate the good and the not so good days. My memories are my link to Joe…which will always be with me.
Keep looking up.
June 2nd, 2009 at 4:17 am
Dearest Suzanne,
Our latest Mother’s Finding Meaning Again Group found a perfect spot in your lovely home. As we mothers sat around your table sharing our lives, crying, laughing, and remembering we honored our deceased children in a new way. It isn’t the way we would have chosen, but it is the way that it is.
You have hope. You shared your hope with us. It’s a gift, your gift of hope.
September 7th, 2009 at 10:07 pm
Our group Mother’s Finding Meaning Again has a new member. We had a space for her vacated by Beth (whom we will miss) because her other children are in so many activities that she cannot find the time! There is a waiting list now for new members.
I’ll write again to tell you about the agenda for our September meeting. I think we will be addressing anniversary dates and what we can do to make it through and make it matter. Each of us remembering that by honoring ourselves and our time together we are honoring our beloved deceased children and doing our absolutely best to Make Every Day Matter!
September 16th, 2009 at 12:07 am
Next Thursday our group of eleven mothers will meet to share our feelings about our deceased children. Doing this helps us to continue our lives and keep our days meaningful.
Besides sharing with one another we meet a specific agenda. This up coming meeting we will talk about what our individual coping tools are. I think the information will help far beyond even our group. Courage has a contagious effect!
Keep up your hearts everyone. Keep your life spiritual and remember to Make Every Day Matter.
September 16th, 2009 at 8:07 pm
Our Gathering
Soon we mothers will be gathering again to find meaning in the deaths of our children. Is this an impossible task? Perhaps. I remember asking the proverbial ‘why’ for many years. Why did my son Ryan die? At some point I realized that I would never have an answer to that futile question. Certainly not while I am on this earth. If we never succeed in finding meaning in their deaths, we will surely have found solace and hope among one another. I consider that a great blessing.
I see our group as a chance to give back to the ones who are new to this bottomless well of grief. We need to let them know it will not be an incessant life of pain. It is important to share that they will experience joy again. They need to understand that they will find a new normal. As we comfort the newly bereaved we are also able to see how far we have come in our own journey.
There is no agenda at our gathering. It seems to flow in a very Synchronistic way.
We tell our stories, shed tears, dispense hugs, share pictures of our precious children. We gauge our own progress. We attempt to do the nearly impossible - heal broken hearts!
Only time and what we do with that time will accomplish that miracle.
Teresa Griffin
Author of Letters of Hope - Living After the Loss of Your Child
September 17th, 2009 at 12:33 am
These words are written by my favorite living Jungian writer in the world, James Hollis, Ph.D. He has some thoughts to share about losing a child and he should know because he has lost a beloved son.
“The World’s Worst Club
Through the years, I have had the sad duty as a therapist to attend the shock, grief, dismay, and debilitation of parents who have lost a child. One never gets over this. Other great losses—death of a spouse, parents, divorce–all are devastating because they so profoundly interrupt the plan, expectation, hope, and eviscerate the implicate “contract” one had provisionally struck with the universe. But none equals the trauma or sustained effects of the loss of a child. A child is a carrier of our best parts.
Yes, therapists wrestle with pathologizing projective identifications with children all the time. Most often, parents are kvetching because their children have not elected the values or life course of their elders and the parent feels rejected. This is the narcissism of the parent which it is the duty of therapy to ferret out and confront. It may similarly be argued that the lost child, as the carrier of our deepest hopes, is also a recipient of our projections and therefore their loss is similarly a narcissistic wound. I am not so sure about this, but I do consider the possibility that we all over-identify with our children. And how can we not? We are their progenitors, protectors, providers, even as another part of the brain tells us that we are but the transient husks which nature employs and through whom they pass en route to their own appointments with destiny. As Shakespeare’s contemporary Ben Jonson expressed it, “my sinne was too much hope of thee, lov’d boy.” Later he notes that a vital part of him lies in the grave as well:
…here doth lye
Ben Jonson his best piece of poetry.
So, how does a parent react? Zorba reported that he scandalized his village by dancing about in ecstatic abandon all night after the loss of his daughter. He knew no other way to express the magnitude of his emotion. Like Edward Wallant’s protagonist in The Pawnbroker, Ben Jonson reports that he learned to protect himself from such further primal emotion by not feeling much at all, whereby “what he loves may never like too much.” Blunting or numbing is how some get through patches of rough road. Others have tried to freeze time, to preserve things as they were, maintaining bedrooms, clothing, artifacts for someone who, against all reason, just may come home again some day. Still others mobilize libido in service to causes which somehow honor the values embodied in the child. Still others escalate into a manic defense against grief by distraction, hyperactivity, or sublimated service to others. There is no “right way”; there is only the way people find.
Two friends, colleagues, have written of their private paths, paths which, because written, now enter the public conversation. One, Mary Jane Hurley Brant of Philadelphia, describes the course of her daughter Katie’s brain tumor in When Every Day Matters: A Mother’s Memoir on Love, Loss, and Life (Washington, D.C.: Simple Abundance Press, 2008). For a first-person description of the daily struggle of the soul to find its course, this is a book to read. While Brant describes herself as feeling like “the handless maiden” of the fairy tales, in fact she and her husband worked heroically to save their daughter’s life. When such an outcome proved not possible, she wishes to die as well and comes to realize that she is still stuck in this life and that there are tasks remaining—the transformation of her Katie now asking for a transformation for the Mother as well. Out of the ashes, Brant founded Katie’s Kids for the Cure to fund research to prevent pediatric brain cancer. As a therapist, she now attends the grief of others as well, knowing that “while something very big is indeed broken inside of me, it is not the whole me.”
The other, Charlotte Mathes, Jungian analyst in New Orleans, writes of the dual death of her son, Duncan, first to the loss of childhood she wished for as a result of his schizophrenia, and secondly from his suicide. (And a Sword Shall Pierce Your Heart.: Moving from Despair to Meaning after the Death of a Child. Wilmette, IL, Chiron, 2006). This is a book to read for a survey of the different forms of child loss, the range of personal therapeutic practices for people going through this experience, and for a list of resources available ranging from films, to music, to support groups. Central to Mathes’s gift to others is her illustration of the importance of finding one’s myth, that is, the energy-laden ideas to which one’s life has been in service hitherto, whether consciously or not, and reconfiguring that myth in the light of a more radical rhythm of love and loss with its obligatory deconstruction of one’s former sense of self and sense of world. In drawing upon classical literature, the techniques of dream work and active imagination, Mathes demonstrates that one need not remain passive, nor stuck in victimage, even in a situation in which one is least capable of action.
Both of these works arise from women whose Jungian perspective brings a depth of insight and working knowledge often absent in other psychologies. Each speaks with eloquence and candor; each offers hope for those who share their loss without minimizing the horror, trauma, and lasting pain. Each is honest. Each offers a gift I value greatly as I write this brief review a year to the very week that my son Timothy died, and I joined the World’s Worst Club with them.”
James Hollis, Ph. D.
Jungian analyst
Houston, Texas
September 17th, 2009 at 9:19 pm
Hi MJ,
I want to thank you for sharing your wonderful and private conversations that you had with your beautiful and precious daughter, Katie, which you so selflessly included in your book (I read it in one sitting) for all to see.
I lost my son Scott on July 4th, 1992 in a tragic boating crash that killed 2 young men in their prime of life. My son was 27 and the other young man was 29 years old. The driver of the boat was drunk and acted recklessly by operating the boat under the influence of alcohol. This act changed the lives of 3 families forever and caused a domino affect which trickled down to all our relatives and friends to this day, 17 years ago.
As you unfortunately know only too well, the loss of a child is devastating, whether is be from sickness or accidental sudden death, and we, as Mothers, will never be whole again for the rest of our lives . Personally. I have found it is how we choose to deal with this situation that makes us either “survivors” or “victims” and I chose to be a “survivor.” I would be happy to share this at the meeting next week when the discussion opens up for us.
I look forward to meeting all of the “heroes” next week and thank you for being included in this group.
Warmest regards,
Pattie
September 18th, 2009 at 12:43 am
Pattie,
What a sad and tragic loss for you and your poor family. Your precious son, Scott, and his two friends taken from this world without warning, the forever goodbye is what we mothers live with every day of our lives.
I cannot wait for the rest of our mothers to meet you and we can learn more about your young man, forever young. We are so blessed to have found one another and I can already feel your enormous strength.
Yes, Mothers Finding Meaning Again, that’s who we are, and we are survivors. We do it for our kids; we do it for ourselves.
Warm regards back to you,
MJ
September 18th, 2009 at 8:09 pm
Thank you, MJ, for your most thoughtful words and I am looking forward to next week, as well. There is not such thing as “too much support” or “too late to receive it.”
September 25th, 2009 at 10:05 pm
Hi MJ,
I want to thank you for inviting me into your wonderful group. ALL of the women exhibit strength and courage beyond words and I am honored to have had the pleasure of spending an evening with everyone.
MJ, you have the best personality and you are a phenomenal example of dealing with a Mother’s loss by going on with your life while maintaining your sense of humor - crying on the inside and laughing on the outside.
I look forward to joining all of you for the next scheduled meeting in October.
Thank you again for letting me share in this very special and unique “club” of “superwomen.”
Warmest regards,
Pattie
September 27th, 2009 at 8:12 pm
Pattie,
What joy you bring to all of us, our newest Mother Finding Meaning Again.
We are bathing in your support already and that it gives you pleasure to help feels even more comforting.
MJ
November 6th, 2009 at 11:01 am
Dear Beautiful Mothers,
I feel that our last meeting at Suzanne’s home (thanks Suzanne!) was one of the most memorable yet. We seem to be coming together so well. I would recommend our format to anyone who has thoughts of beginning a grief support group. We are a small circle of twelve mothers. All are at various points in the grief journey - from less than one year to twenty-two years. At the start of the evening we say a short prayer. Sprinkle that with some red and white wine as well as lots of tissues. Then let the sharing begin. MJ often suggests a topic to begin with, but typical of all women, we soon veer off and we just find ourselves where we need to be!
We have already seen some of our newer members begin to feel a bit better, although I am sure that it is hard for them to believe it. MJ, as always, you lead us with such grace and kindness. We all thank you for that. I feel so privileged to be part of this wonderful circle of women.
Each one of us is looking forward to next month when we have unanimously agreed to go out and have ‘fun’! We always need a good dose of that in our lives.
Terry
Light A Candle
light a candle,
see it glow,
watch it dance,
when you feel low,
think of me,
think of light,
I’ll always be here,
day or night,
a candle flickers,
out of sight,
but in your heart,
I still burn bright,
think not of sadness,
that I’m not near,
think of gladness,
and joyous cheer,
I have not left,
I am not gone,
I’m here to stay
my beautiful mom,
so when you light a candle
and you see it glow
and you watch it dance
in your heart you’ll know
that I would never leave you
even when you feel so blue
I’m sitting up here with the Lord
and now watching over you
November 11th, 2009 at 3:11 am
James Raymond…
I was doing some random seaches through google and found your website. Your insight into Sacred Space is not only spot on, but entertaining to read. Thanks…
November 18th, 2009 at 10:48 am
Dear Terry K,
What lovely feelings you have brought to our page and to our group. Forgive me for taking so long to respond.
I’m so appreciative of how our group works together for the good of us all. We use our time to comfort one another; we use our time to comfort ourselves. As my Katie would say, “It’s a good thing.”
Thank you for sharing that lovely poem and reminding us that our angels are watching over us when we are sleeping, waking, crying, laughing. May the holy gift of laughter be returned to all of us who have lost a beloved child. May the good God help us all to find meaning again.
Love and peace,
MJ
December 25th, 2009 at 6:36 am
We are a group of volunteers and starting a new initiative in a community. Your blog provided us valuable information to work on.You have done a marvellous job!
January 8th, 2010 at 9:34 pm
Dear Jimmie,
Thank you for sharing on Christmas. I would enjoy hearing about your group of volunteers and I’m sure others would, too. Please stop by and tell us.
Kind regards always,
MJ
March 18th, 2010 at 5:57 am
That rss page on your website here is splendid, you should tell people about it in your next post. I haven’t noticed it for the first couple of times, now I’m using it every morning to check on any updates. I’m on a very slow dial-up link in Ohio and it’s rather daunting to sit there and wait for such a long time ’til the page loads… but hey, I just found your rss page and added it to the Google Reader and voil? - I’m always up-to-date! Well buddy, keep up the good work and make that rss button a little bigger so that other people can enjoy that as well
April 16th, 2010 at 11:59 pm
Thanks for the great post! You have a new fan.
April 17th, 2010 at 12:11 am
Elliot,
It’s nice to know you. I receive more correspondence on this blog from women so welcome and please stop by again.
April 26th, 2010 at 12:29 am
Thank you for sharing the info. I found the information incredibly helpful.
May 5th, 2010 at 4:36 pm
I found your website in a Mother’s Day article in the Inquirer. When I stopped by for a quick look I found myself reading and appreciating every word in your blog. My son, Andrew, died 10 years ago at age 23. He simply collapsed while playing ice hockey. I count myself as a survivor, especially after reading this area, but it was so wonderful to learn of a group who understands these feelings and accepts them. God bless you all.
May 5th, 2010 at 7:49 pm
Dear Joanne,
I’m so sorry about the loss of your young adult son, Andrew. How sudden and horrifying. Please write and tell us about him. If you send me an e-mail (maryjanebrant@gmail with a picture in jpeg format) I’ll post it.
Andrew died close to the time that our Katie did. Her anniversary is this July 10.
Yes, you have the support from other mothers who are in the same boat as St. Brendan who now sail through a sea of crosses.
We survive now to do the work we can. God bless you, Joanne.
MJ
May 5th, 2010 at 10:31 pm
MJ,
I, too, discovered the existence of your group in an Inquirer article read today. My son Max died two years ago riding his bicycle in Wayne on a beautiful June morning with the sun on his face and the wind in his hair. He had just turned 20 and completed his freshman year at Drexel. While his life circle was small, it was complete. Of that, I have no doubt. As I am still here, I am focusing on what the next part of my own journey will be. I am convinced it is not about what happens to you, but what you do about it that will help me move through my tragedy. And one day, when my own life circle is complete and I meet up with my son, I will be proud of what I accomplished here after he was gone.
May you and the other Moms continue to find pleasure in each other and light in the world.
Gari
May 6th, 2010 at 12:03 am
Dear Gari,
Your family’s sadness was felt all over our community for the loss of young Max. He must have been such a smart young man getting into Drexel. The summer must be a terrible time for you as his second anniversary approaches. I could barely walk some days.
Yes, finding our next chapter is so difficult with a loss of this magnitude so you must be very quiet and ask Max what does he think. Katie gave me a head’s up, she really did.
And your Max is already proud of you, look at you blogging away and helping other moms right here alone!
Peace to you dear Mother of Max.
MJ
May 6th, 2010 at 2:47 am
I am one of the fortunate women who meet each month in MJ’s “Mothers Finding Meaning” group. My son left us almost 23 years ago. If only I had known these wonderful women at that time!
I recently came across a site that is a Prayer Registry for children who have died. This bereaved Mom has a dream that our children would have a collective prayer said for them on the anniversary of their passing. Here is the link.
http://www.sheriperl.com/SheriPerl.com/Prayer%20Registry.html
May 6th, 2010 at 2:50 am
Mary Jane Hurley Brant’s grace and optimism have given me the courage to continue on my journey as a bereaved mother. Since my son’s passing many years ago, I have had to cope with additional losses. I thank you, MJ, for guiding me over these difficult passages. You have a healing gift.
“When Every Day Matters” is so very uplifting. Mary Jane has a unique ability to express what grief truly feels like.
This book is invaluable to anyone who is traveling the difficult path of unimaginable loss.
May 6th, 2010 at 4:23 am
Dear Terry,
It is my privilege to help you through your losses which are heavy and defining. As a child I carried an ‘idea’ of how things should be. I believed that life was going ‘to be easy’ going ‘to be carefree.’ Maybe we both did.
It was my mother and no professor who once looked at me and inquired, “Who ever said it was going to be easy?” Somehow her very grounded approach was a model for me. Not necessarily to expect things to be hard and painful but to realize that we really are not in charge. How surrender is the name of the game. How faith in a bigger picture will - in the end - bring us home.
May 13th, 2010 at 6:36 pm
That was a terrific blog post, MJ;and I await many more posts from you. Thank you.
May 14th, 2010 at 12:14 am
That was a different thought track. I admire your style and effort that you put into your work. Please do move forward with more posts similar to this.
June 23rd, 2010 at 7:22 am
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June 23rd, 2010 at 6:00 pm
Dee Deedee,
That’s a lovely thing to say and to offer. I appreciate it and would take any compensation and treat my mothers to lunch.
June 30th, 2010 at 1:36 pm
Truly inspiring, touching and moving true stories. Every human being is a bunch of different life stories. Let us keep knowing and learning.
July 13th, 2010 at 11:46 am
My boy….he died suddenly in his sleep four and a half months ago. I don’t know what I am … just coming out of shock, still in shock, I don’t know. I DO know that my precious 22 year old son lived his life so fully, and I believe that he gave his mom as many blessings as possible in this nightmare. For some reason, he came home from college for the weekend, spent his last night on this earth staying up talking with me about how happy he was, how excited to be graduating from college, how complete his football career had been, his dream had come true to play college football. For some reason, he was so tired he couldn’t get to sleep, so I scratched my 22-year old son’s back until he fell asleep. Us moms know that we don’t get that chance often at 22…what a blessing … and my precious boy’s last words were “mom …. I love my bed…I love this room, it is my favorite place in the world.”
He went to sleep, and for some reason, his heart failed him and he never woke up. I work hard every day to accept these precious blessings, that I did not see my son suffer, that I knew without a doubt that he left us as a happy, loved and loving young man. There were no words left unsaid . . . and I know one day this will bring me true peace. Right now, my heart is just broken. It is getting worse, not better. I have not been able to go to the cemetery. None of us has. Jason left two heartbroken sisters, 14 and 18, and a shattered Dad as well. I have a lot of guilt about the cemetery, but I just cannot go. We were allowed to plant a tree along the beautiful Hudson River in our town’s park, and I go there often to talk to him, cry for him.
Please help me…should I force myself to go to his grave? Will I regret this forever? I cannot even hear the final details of his death. What is wrong with me? Why don’t I need to know every detail that took my son? I am so afraid I will find out that we could have done something to prevent his death. Will I always be a coward? My boy was MY HEART. I love my girls so so so much, but I am having a hard time accepting that my boy arm has been destroyed, cut off - GONE. I LOVED being a BOY MOM. I loved every single smelly, sweaty minute. We had such a strong bond, that I am having a hard time forgiving God for taking MY son. He was so good, he left hundreds of friends . . . I need a support group in my area like you have - how do I find it? Please help me.
July 13th, 2010 at 5:30 pm
My dear Lisa,
I could not contain my tears after reading your words pouring out today about the tragic loss of your son, Jason. It is an unbearable sorrow and all of your feelings are normal because there is no normal way to feel. None of it makes sense. I had to ask people was I even talking at Katie’s funeral because I remember just standing and standing as though I was part of another person’s nightmare.
How unusual that Jason knew where he would always find comfort and what a tender scene you painted about him saying how much he loved being home, loved his bed and his home. He loved you and the people in his home is how I read that and he was a son comfortable enough in his own young adulthood to express his feelings to you. How beautiful, how precious.
Not everyone is a cemetery person. I am not. I bet I haven’t gone 10 times. My husband sometimes rides his bike over. Go to where it feels right for you. Some moms I know never go but go and sit in the back of their church and weep. Our Katie’s 11th anniversary was last Saturday and I felt devastated anew for the mother’s heart was branded with a deep love to our child and the dates they left this world tear open that forever wound of loss. I’m so sorrow for Jason’s sisters and your husband. I am grateful to God that I saw your response today because it landed in my spam but I didn’t delete it until I read it. It must have been your tears across the miles which prompted me to know something was important.
I will send you a private e-mail to get your address to send you When Every Day Matters for I think it will help you in some small way not to feel alone as you try to manage your days one at a time to find any peace.
Many moms who write to me have found comfort in Compassionate Friends. Look on line for a chapter and please go. I did not go but threw myself into my writing which helped me to survive.
I will stay in touch with you.
Peace and love,
MJ
July 14th, 2010 at 4:25 am
Dear Lisa,
Reading about your heartache made me want to be able to hug you until your last tear was cried. We both know this will be a very long time from now.
My son died suddenly when he was two years old. There is something so shocking and horrific about sudden death. Life is changed in an instant.
The grief response following sudden loss is often intensified since there is no opportunity to prepare for the loss or say good-bye.
The shock and grief following a sudden death can feel overwhelming. I remember screaming over and over, “Where is Ryan?” I needed to know that he still existed. Thankfully, eventually I did know.
Don’t fault yourself for not wanting to hear the medical information yet. This is your mind’s amazing way of self protection. You may want to know one day when you are more capable of dealing with the information. You need to be kind to yourself right now! Take every day slowly. There is no rush.
Many parents, myself included, do not visit the cemetery. I have always felt that Ryan was right next to me. Just on the other side of that thin
veil and that he could hear me when I spoke to him night and day. Eventually, I received blessed signs from him that allowed me to know this was true.
Again, if ever there was a time when you need to be kind and loving towards yourself this is it! I think instinctively your mind knows what it can bear.
I went to the Compassionate Friends during the first year after my son’s death.
I cannot recommend this organization enough. They have phone friends, newsletters and meetings at different locations almost every night. They truly know the nightmare you are living right now. How I wish that you could sit with us as we sit and share our pain each month. There is always some laughter, no matter how many tears are shed. Please know that you and your family will be in my prayers.
Below is an article about sudden death - from the Compassionate Friends site.
http://www.compassionatefriends.org/Brochures/sudden_death_of_a_child.aspx
July 16th, 2010 at 5:48 am
I can’t imagine the serious work that must have been needed to research for this post. All what i can say is just keep publishing such posts because we all love it.
And just to bring something to your notice, I have seen several blogs providing your blog as a source for this information.
July 16th, 2010 at 10:49 am
Terry - Thank you so much for your kind words. I’m sure that alot of what I am going through is familiar . . . I search every word from you “survivors” to see how you’ve done it - how you are able to be sitting there, writing and comforting me . . it gives me such hope that I will survive too, that I will be able to sit down at some point and offer comfort to someone else. It’s almost impossible to believe right now that I would have anything left over for anyone else other than my husband and two girls . . . but here you are! Thank you . . and thank you for “letting me off the hook” about the cemetary. The tree we planted along the Hudson River is “our place”. The tree is planted along the river on one side and along the little league football field on the other side. Exactly where he loved to be - and I know that he visits me when I’m there. . I AM going to try Compassionate Friends in the Fall. I am in the rpocess of getting my oldest daughter off to college for the first time. We will be taking her down to Georgia (home, for me) beginning of August, then I will take a deep breath and really start living my new life. I will try to keep in touch here, I feel very at home on this site. - Lisa
July 16th, 2010 at 2:28 pm
Shayari,
That is encouraging to hear. I hope others who need to find us here will and also that grieving moms do, especially.
Thank you so very much.
MJ
July 18th, 2010 at 8:18 pm
Imelda,
Muchas gracias!
August 4th, 2010 at 8:58 am
I found your blog via Google while searching for first aid lye, thank you for posting Mothers Finding Meaning Again!