Loneliness is defined as feeling alone, miserable or isolated. These feelings take on a new dimension after losing a child. First, there is the permanence of losing our children. We know they are not coming back. Then all sorts of "never agains" can come flooding into our minds.
One of my firsts was knowing I would never hear my son, Chris, play the guitar again. When he was home, he was always strumming on his guitar. Playing this or that. Asking me which chords sounded better. When he died, I could not listen to any music in the house for over a year.
So many other familiar things were gone as well. His greetings: "Hi, Mom." His calling on the phone and saying, "Hi Mom, this is Chris." It always amused me because he was my only child so if he said, "Hi, Mom," who else would it be?
The familiar footsteps coming up the stairs if he was late coming home. My dog Amber and I always took that for granted. But after a friend of Chris' visited, Amber switched to the corner of the bed where she could watch the stairs. She remained on that corner every night until the day she died seven years later. I supposed she missed him saying,"Amber, you are the little sister I never had."
If I was laying down in the afternoon, Amber was on the bed with me. If Chris would come home, he would sit on the bed and pet her and talk to her. Sitting between us, Amber always gave this huge happy sounding yawn. That stopped after Chris was gone. She never did it again.
I miss the constant interruptions of his asking me how to set the washer to launder this or that particular item of clothing. I miss going to the diner with him for breakfast or lunch. Meals out became solo. I miss his wonderful sense of humor. His great laugh. His sensitivity. His keen perception. I miss his funny stories. I miss his hilarious imitations of different people. I miss having his friends around. I miss our closeness. I miss our heart to heart talks. I miss his love and affection. I miss him helping me.
I miss who he would have become. He had just finished a trade course and training in printing. Would he have continued to pursue this? Would he have married? Had kids? Started his own business? With his life cut short, I will never know. Yes, the terrible, surprising and unexpected are what happen when we are hoping for other plans.
The everyday losses and the possible future losses bring a permanent kind of loneliness. Yes, a loneliness that can isolate us in our thoughts, regrets and what if's. Right onto the path of misery. Can we turn this picture over to memories and happy moments instead of the permanence of loss? Yes, it's a heavy lift. But let's imagine we are all doing this together with our fondest memories. And our faith in being reunited with our children in God's good time.
Seek help. Get help. Give help. Despite our loneliness, we are not alone. There are far too many bereaved parents like us. We must sit quietly and tap into each other's pain, strength and determination to move forward bit by bit. Picture a large circle of parents of all ages. We are holding hands and looking skyward on a warm, sunny day. Hoping to move along on this slow journey. But, move along we can.
We will remember the good we had and who and what remain in our lives and our angel children.
"Trust in God at all times, my people. Tell Him all your troubles, for He is our refuge." Psalm 62: 8
My love, thoughts and prayers for you all,
Rosemarie
If you have thoughts of harming yourself or ending your life, call 988 or 911 immediately for help.
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