A Hole In My Heart

     I am sure it was with you as it was with me. You felt your child very much missing from your Thanksgiving Day holiday. It started for me on Thanksgiving Day morning when I was watching the Philadelphia Parade on TV. I became agonizingly aware Chris would be missing from today's get together.

     Then at dinner, I stopped and paused in my mind and asked myself what I was doing with all these strangers? Where were Chris and my deceased husband, Fred? Don't get me wrong. I was having a pleasant enough time. My boyfriend's family has embraced me, but there will be two holes forever in my heart, one impossible to fill even partway.

     You know all too well what I mean. You have the same hole in your heart with your now deceased child. That child cannot be replaced with any amount of festivity.

     Some days it is so hard. I go on with a brave face. After so many years, the smile reaches my eyes some days, I think, but not really my heart. Thanksgiving Day it did not reach my heart and that's all right. We're allowed.

     It just so happened at that same dinner, there was a kindred spirit. I never knew the brother-in-law of the host had lost his 16 year old daughter. So true the words, "Be kind always." We shared a little of our experiences. He had been divorced prior to his daughter's death. He said he would rather have gone through thousands of divorces than have lost his daughter. So profoundly had her loss affected him.

     His statement reminded me of what I had experienced with Chris' death. My husband died just six weeks after Chris. I was already numb with grief. So great was my grief over Chris, it was like Fred's death couldn't even register. I had no more grief left in me. I didn't grieve over Fred until several years later.

     It is impossible to measure the grief, the pain, the absolute rawness felt of a child being ripped away from you, even an adult child. Your life seems to come to a grinding halt. Nothing else matters. Yet, your spouse matters, other children matter, your job matters, the bills matter. Painfully, you have to put one foot in front of the other and go on. There is no other choice. You can go into a dark place, but not for  too long. Life calls. You must go on. You can go on. You have to tell yourself you must and you can do it and you will do it. There is no other way, but to choose life or let your grief destroy you and your family. It is a rocky road, but one you can't avoid traveling.

     What to do about the upcoming holidays? Your first instinct is to crawl into a hole and hide and skip all events. If you have family and other children, total avoidance is probably not realistic. I would say be very selective. Choose small groups of close family and friends who are aware and understanding of your situation. Don't feel bad about turning anyone else down. Be firm, but kind. You can always have "other plans" in the face of persistence.

     Try remembering your child quietly with a gift for his or her room. If you have a celebration at home or go somewhere, have your child's favorite dish or dessert or say a commemorative prayer or blessing or give a toast. Try to include your child in the festivities to extend the smile to the hole in your heart. This Christmas Eve, I am going to ask my hosts if we can toast Chris and Fred at our dinner. God bless you all and may He bring you strength and some measure of peace.