Wednesday, July 17, 2013
Tonight's picture was taken in May of 2005. Though a bit blurry, I still love the photo. We took Mattie to a butterfly exhibit at the Smithsonian Museum and as you can see a butterfly landed right on Mattie's hand. He absolutely loved it! I tried to snap the photo of them together, but since both of them were moving to their own beat it came out blurry.
Quote of the day: Remember: the time you feel lonely is the time you most need to be by yourself. Life's cruelest irony. ~ Douglas Coupland
I came across tonight's quote and it immediately resonated with me. I am not sure I would have shared Coupland's philosophy though prior to Mattie's death. In a way it seems very contradictory that when lonely we should be by ourselves. Sometimes I think the exact opposite is true, when feeling lonely or isolated, we have to change things up and force ourselves to interact and re-engage with others.
However, I am not sure that strategy works too well when dealing with grief. Especially the grief of losing a child. Frankly that is a form of grief that not many (thankfully) can personally relate to. It is an unnatural grief and a grief that scares parents hearing our story. Our society doesn't handle the topic of death and dying very well to begin with, but factor in the death being that of a child, and the whole subject matter becomes taboo. Therefore it naturally can lead to loneliness and isolation from others. In a way it is like being from a different culture, we no longer fit in with the mainstream culture. We talk a different language and our experiences are different from the majority around us.
I do think that there are times within the grief journey that parents must separate themselves from others. I am not saying become reclusive, but there are days the rest of the world needs to be shut out. It has to be, because the pain of the loss is more than enough for us to handle, and we couldn't possibly take on any other issues or better yet have to explain our feelings to others who may not truly understand. Nonetheless this isolation is fraught with conflict. Because in order to survive grief, parents who lost a child need to be heard and to tell their child's story. Not just once, but continually. Yet how is this done, when we feel lonely, different, and isolated? Again, with grief I usually have more questions than answers, but I think it is a matter of finding a balance. Some days being alone and with our own thoughts is absolutely necessary, but then there are days when we can let others in to help, to listen, and to support us. I have seen this complexity within my own life, but I have also seen how my isolating behavior also impacts those closest to me who want to help.
Friends and family who want to be there long term, somehow understand our highs and lows, maybe not why we have them or what triggers them, but they accept them as part of the journey. In the end, it is honesty that helps with the loneliness and the isolation. When we can be honest with our friends and family regarding our needs for alone time, help, and support, then I have personally found that I become less agitated and in a funk. Believe me there is no better term for these feelings than a FUNK. It is very scary to be living without your child, to not have a parent identity anymore, and to have to determine what the future may hold for you. All of these problems can produce one very large existential crisis, which is hard to manage but even harder to cope with without the love and support of those around us. I suppose my last thought is if you are helping someone through grief, understand the need for alone time, but don't get discouraged by this. Keep reaching out to the person grieving, in the end I have no doubt it will make a difference.
Tonight's picture was taken in May of 2005. Though a bit blurry, I still love the photo. We took Mattie to a butterfly exhibit at the Smithsonian Museum and as you can see a butterfly landed right on Mattie's hand. He absolutely loved it! I tried to snap the photo of them together, but since both of them were moving to their own beat it came out blurry.
Quote of the day: Remember: the time you feel lonely is the time you most need to be by yourself. Life's cruelest irony. ~ Douglas Coupland
I came across tonight's quote and it immediately resonated with me. I am not sure I would have shared Coupland's philosophy though prior to Mattie's death. In a way it seems very contradictory that when lonely we should be by ourselves. Sometimes I think the exact opposite is true, when feeling lonely or isolated, we have to change things up and force ourselves to interact and re-engage with others.
However, I am not sure that strategy works too well when dealing with grief. Especially the grief of losing a child. Frankly that is a form of grief that not many (thankfully) can personally relate to. It is an unnatural grief and a grief that scares parents hearing our story. Our society doesn't handle the topic of death and dying very well to begin with, but factor in the death being that of a child, and the whole subject matter becomes taboo. Therefore it naturally can lead to loneliness and isolation from others. In a way it is like being from a different culture, we no longer fit in with the mainstream culture. We talk a different language and our experiences are different from the majority around us.
I do think that there are times within the grief journey that parents must separate themselves from others. I am not saying become reclusive, but there are days the rest of the world needs to be shut out. It has to be, because the pain of the loss is more than enough for us to handle, and we couldn't possibly take on any other issues or better yet have to explain our feelings to others who may not truly understand. Nonetheless this isolation is fraught with conflict. Because in order to survive grief, parents who lost a child need to be heard and to tell their child's story. Not just once, but continually. Yet how is this done, when we feel lonely, different, and isolated? Again, with grief I usually have more questions than answers, but I think it is a matter of finding a balance. Some days being alone and with our own thoughts is absolutely necessary, but then there are days when we can let others in to help, to listen, and to support us. I have seen this complexity within my own life, but I have also seen how my isolating behavior also impacts those closest to me who want to help.
Friends and family who want to be there long term, somehow understand our highs and lows, maybe not why we have them or what triggers them, but they accept them as part of the journey. In the end, it is honesty that helps with the loneliness and the isolation. When we can be honest with our friends and family regarding our needs for alone time, help, and support, then I have personally found that I become less agitated and in a funk. Believe me there is no better term for these feelings than a FUNK. It is very scary to be living without your child, to not have a parent identity anymore, and to have to determine what the future may hold for you. All of these problems can produce one very large existential crisis, which is hard to manage but even harder to cope with without the love and support of those around us. I suppose my last thought is if you are helping someone through grief, understand the need for alone time, but don't get discouraged by this. Keep reaching out to the person grieving, in the end I have no doubt it will make a difference.
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