It's been a pretty good week here in our part of the world, considering. On Wednesday I went to a prayer meeting and met with Jesus in a way I haven't before and it stuck with me for the rest of the week. On Friday I went to an Above Rubies Retreat with my friend, Holly. We had a long drive together and a good weekend as we learned alot and had a time of rest as well.
But, still, there was something niggling at the back of my mind and I wondered, not for the first time why it bothers me so much when people who are not bereaved parents talk to me about healing or recovering. Yet, when a bereaved parent talks about healing or recovering I know what they're saying, and it's just fine with me.
And recently, I think I've figured it out.
As far as I can tell, the words 'recovery' and 'healing' in the mouth of a bereaved parent is a different word than in the mouths of people with all their living children. It's simply a different language. And unless you've travelled to the country of Devastation then you cannot ever speak the language...and, well, trust me, you do not want to travel to that country.
And why is this worth a blog post you wonder...
Well, partly because I am recovering. I am having more bearable moments than terrible, awful ones. I am able to grocery shop for thanksgiving dinner (and even know of things I am thankful for). I am able to chat to people that I meet, and they would never know that I am missing my daughter with every heartbeat, as I talk turkey and sweet potatoes with them.
But when the conversation turns to how big other people's kids have gotten and how hard it is to keep track of all the kids, well, then I have to go. And, sorry, but neither is a Happy Thanksgiving on my plate, or my lips.
And as a little side dish of sad cuteness in our home-I had a friend over with her baby son for lunch.
Theodore said to her 'we have two babies in our family-one in my mommy's belly and one in Heaven'.
Thankfully this friend already knew about both Hope and Eva.
That's funny Em - I just feel like I wrote a really similar post to this, prior to coming over to read your blog. I don't think other people can undrestand how difficult it it, as most people never experience a more traumatic a death than a grandparent or other elderly relative. We know we are getting better - but we also understand how completely destroyed we were in the beginning.
ReplyDeleteBig hug to you xx
I love Theodore's words - how very true, you have 2 babies in your family xx
Thanks Susan. And I love his words too. He was only 2 when she died but Eva is very much a part of his life.
DeleteYes, I agree with you that recovery is different for those who are not bereaved parents themselves. Even for those who understand that we will never actually 'get over' the loss of our children, recovery is like an end, a completion. I think for us, recovery is more of a never-ending, incremental, forward and back process; it never reaches a point of completion; even though we might be recovering, we never recover.
ReplyDeletePerfectly said Jen. There is no completion. Recovering but never conmpletely recovered.
DeleteI'm still at the beginning of this journey. My daughter and I were just discussing the fact that we have to accept that other people just don't "get it". Our grief is with us every second, no matter what else we are doing, but others just cannot possibly understand the depth and permanence of our heartbreak.
ReplyDeleteI also simply remove myself from conversations and situations that are too raw and painful.
It's totally true. You know how much I've tried to be there for you and understand, but even I have no idea how to truly speak that language. For people like me we just need to admit that we have no idea and try to be a support as much as possible. I think non bereaved people can still be supportive, it just won't ever be the same as people who speak the same language. Well written friend.
ReplyDeleteLove you Holly.
DeleteIt’s the reason I sometimes hesitate to comment on your blog. Often I feel that whatever I might say would sound hollow or trite, because I know full well that I can’t really “get it”, not fully. And for that I am more thankful than for anything else in my life … because I do understand, at least, that losing a child would be a whole different universe from losing a grandparent, parent, spouse, or anyone else. I think if it were me in your shoes, I’d be thinking a lot of profanity at the comments of well-intentioned people.
ReplyDeleteOn another note: I did write you a big long comment a while ago, which didn’t get to you due to my own technological ineptitude (at midnight of course, and then I just had to get to bed). Now I’ve forgotten everything I wrote, except how pleased I am for you that you are pregnant. I wish you a smooth pregnancy and a lovely birth that goes exactly the way you want it to.
T, I'm so glad you posted. I've been thinking of A and her surgery and hoping all went well. I was almost to the point of asking KC how everything went. I was worried by your silence.
DeleteThank you for commenting. Much love, Em
Actually, we're still waiting. They had fewer cardiac surgeons than normal over the summer and a rash of newborn emergencies all at once ... so hopefully late Oct / early Nov now.
DeleteTake care.
Please let me know when she's going in. I would like to know. If you don't mind.
DeleteEm, TS has said just what I feel too, and reflects how often I will write a comment on your blog and erase it, because it sounds so shallow and meaningless from someone who has not walked this same road. I lost a little one (which seems now like once-upon-a-time) but I think it must not be the same as holding that babe in your arms and enjoying her for as long as you had Eva. I often think of you and Eva on the 15th of the month, and never get to tell you that. I am thankful that you've let us who aren't bereaved now, read your thoughts, because it has opened my heart and mind to be as supportive as I can ... but fully aware, as you said, I'm not speaking the same language at all.
ReplyDeleteI'm so glad too, that Eva has brought Hope to you, and through them both, slowly bringing you healing, just as God knows you need it.
Sarah,
DeleteI really appreciate this comment of yours. Even just that you're letting me know you're reading. Because I appreciate that too, you know. And I really appreciate that you remember Eva on the 15th. And I still appreciate comments. So, risky as it may be, feel free to share your thoughts with me and others. I do, even at the risk of appearing foolish. It's the risk of putting your heart out there for others to see.
Thanks Em. I will.
Delete