THE TRUTH BEHIND THE MASK

“You are such a strong person, you will get through this.” I have heard those words more times than I’d like to say. However, if I were to write a book of things not to say to a grieving parent, or anyone grieving for that matter, “Just remember, my dear, he is in a better place,”  would be number one on the list. This phrase flusters me more than nails screeching on a chalkboard. Logic tells us our loved one is without pain and in a place beyond our comprehension of a heavenly paradise. But those of us grieving are not dealing with logic. We are emotional rollercoasters and want to hold onto our loved ones forever.

Most people are uncomfortable and really don't know what to say. They don’t intentionally say things to hurt. Their intent is to show empathy and offer consolation. But the truth is, quite frankly, there is absolutely nothing anyone could say to console a grieving parent. They have lost a piece of themselves. Their hearts have been ripped out of them, stomped on, torn apart and will never completely heal again. Life will NEVER be the same. There are many grief groups and counselors who may try to tell you “it will get better with time.” “It”????  How can you reduce my child to “it” first of all??? And, speaking from experience, after 26 years of living through grief, not a day goes by without a tear running down my face, without my heart aching for the son who is no longer sitting around the table celebrating holidays with our family, and the child who is absent at his siblings’ birthdays. What's even more difficult is when his siblings celebrate milestones in their lives, graduations, weddings, births of their children. It not only breaks my heart to see an empty seat at these life events. Watching surviving children feel the emptiness while trying to hide their sorrow compounds a parents’ grief. 

This brings me to another phrase that should be on the taboo list…brace yourselves for this one, “at least you have other children.” Sometimes I wonder if people actually hear the words they spew out of their mouths. Do these people think that one child can replace another? Really? Can they hear themselves. Yes, I am blessed to have four children. I am ever so grateful for each one of them. Each child is their own self, an independent person.  Each unique in their own way, and each of their lives are so very precious. The fact that I have other children does not make the emptiness and loss of one son any easier. My other children cannot and do not take the place of their brother. Each of my children are a part of me, a part of our family unit, and when one is missing, the family unit is no longer whole, regardless the number of children in the family.  If the foundation of your home sustained major damage, the home would be on shaky ground, become unstable and eventually collapse. We can overcome hurdles and learn to compensate for a loss, but that does not mean the pain and consequence of that loss is eradicated. More often than not that loss is magnified, regardless of our efforts to hide the pain and continue to live in the moment. 

Everyone deals with loss in their own way and it can differ with life events. Everyone, at one time or another, has donned a mask in order to function. People wear their masks for different reasons, and I can only give insight on my own experience and what I have observed in grief counseling, grief groups and forged friendships with other parents I've met along the journey. 

I do not portray a doom and gloom persona, thus, the mask. To get through the trials of every day life one must make a conscious effort to live in the present. We must make the most of the time we spend on this earth until we can be reunited with our loved ones.  Everyone has their own threshold of coping mechanisms and their own way of dealing with stress. I like to call it my daily survival strategy. In reality, it is much easier to let others think things are going well and you are adjusting to a new way of life. Often this will avoid being told how you are supposed to feel or what you are supposed to be doing. Of course, because we are all human, we will have an occasional bad day and it will overcome us, no matter where we are.  Fortunately, I can usually pull myself together and regain composure without causing too much of a scene.  

There is absolutely one crucial moment (very possibly more than one) when wearing your mask is essential. A near and dear friend of your beloved will have milestones in their lives, milestones they are entitled and expected to celebrate. Often you will be included in the celebration of such events and absolutely want to share these precious moments. Unfortunately you will experience pangs of sorrow wishing your loved one could witness the occasion. You will then feel guilty for the mixed emotions. If it is too soon after your loss and you don't think you can pull it off, it is my suggestion that you regretfully decline the invitation and explain why. Send a gift and the best of wishes. If possible, arrange for a special one on one visit which may be more meaningful and appreciated. Mixed emotions, highs and lows are the new way of life after the loss of a child.

What is “normal” behavior after loss? There are days when I don’t know who I am, or who I was, or who I will be tomorrow. I only know the me in the moment. Emotions will get the better of you at the drop of a hat. Things that trigger an emotional reaction one day may not even make me blink on another. I wake each day hoping for the best without expectations. Realistically, anything can trigger an emotion; thus another reason to don that mask! It is important to acknowledge and embrace our grief.  Sadly and unfortunately it will always be a part of you.