There's no tragedy in life like the death of a child. Things never get back to the way they were.

Dwight D. Eisenhower

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

Not much to say

I am here, but I don't have much to say these days. The normal business of life with all of the girls home for the summer and my husband who is a teacher all keeps my mind and soul occupied in such a manner that it fills some of the void, albeit temporarily.

There is so much that goes through my mind each minute, each second of the day. The emptiness that I feel inside and the pain that has become my closest friend...hasn't gone away. In some ways, it has just changed in little ways, but still manages to take my breath away each and every day. Like a punch in the gut and a slap in the face over and over and over.

Mostly, I have started to feel that no matter how I try to describe the nightmare that I am living, it might just be that nobody will ever really "get" it. And, make no mistake...I don't want anyone to actually experience the loss of a child. But, the more time that passes, the more I realize that people in general just expect us (those who have suffered such a terrible loss), to just move drop the sorrow and the pain and leave the mourning behind.

If that were possible, I might need another 20 years or so to work through this grief. The fact that I trust God with my pain...that I know He has a plan for our family...that Mark is in heaven in perfect peace and joy and that somehow, his death was all for the best in God's plan is necessary to get me through each day, but it doesn't take an ounce of the pain away. For now, I will tell anyone who really wants to know "How are you?". Otherwise, I will smile and carry on as usual since it is what makes everyone else more comfortable.


  1. You're not alone. I'm right there beside you, plodding along this ugly path.

    Loving Laynee and Missing Mark

    PS: I wonder if they know, up in heaven, that they get linked together in this way by their mommy's (LL&MM)

  2. I find it hard to relate too. I never imagined that we would be critized for our grief instead of supported in it. Crazy!!!


  3. I needed to read this today. I recently received a comment on my blog (didn't post it) from someone berating me for being angry when a woman continued to ask me questions that made me know, the "hard" questions that are only hard for those of us who have lost children. In reality, I wasn't angry at the woman; I was angry that this is my life....that I can't answer the "how are you" or "is this your first" questions as simply as everyone else can.

    Most of the time, I try to approach our situation positively, in a way so that Ayden's story will have a changing impact. But, I'm also human, and this HURTS, so sometimes, I may not react as I "should".

    Thank you for reminding me that some people just don't get it. The day to day is completely different when your child is gone, and some people don't realize that even if it's 6 months, a year, 3 years, etc. after that will forever be a part of you. I find so much comfort in knowing that our children are safe in the arms of God, but sometimes....we just want them here in our arms.

    Thinking of you and of Mark so often.


  4. the how are you? questions kill me.. to be honest or to give the "easy" answer..real answer I am dreading getting out of bed daily because it means another day with out her.. I generally give the easier answer "I am okay" Sadly it seems we have to cater to the people that have never experienced this loss, just to ease their comfort..people think that we should just move on or get over it, or have faith..I have faith, but that doesn't mean I can just forget my child, go on as if she/he never were..I hate are certainly not the only one feeling this way..xoxo ((hugs))

  5. I am so, so, so, so sorry. It fathoms me beyond belief that people expect you to "move on." I have not experienced a loss like yours, but every. single. time I think of your story, I feel that gut-punch, loss of breath, feeling. I can only imagine that you feel but at an immeasurable degree every second of every day. It saddens me that people would expect you to move-on. Of course, there are distractions, but you can never "move-on" without your child. I would imagine that you learn to deal with that gut-punch, loss of breath over time, but the pain of not having your child will never lessen. I pray for you every day Angie.

  6. Angie,
    I know sometimes we as friends say the stupidest things it's not that we don't "get it" because even the thought of the loss of my child brings me to tears. I don't feel the constant pain and hurt but think often of the agony that you must go through each day and think of your family daily. Sometimes the "How are you?" is a general comment because we yearn for your healing and although we know there is not a thing we can do, we pray you are blanketed with strength and some relief throughout your future life.
    Unfortunately, as mothers we have a tendacy to want to fix everyone's problems and make the pain go away and we feel helpless. Although, I don't ever want to feel that pain I do hurt for you and pray for you daily. Just remember some of us "get it" we just are powerless and want all the booboo's to go away.

  7. I get it, too. I'm glad you wrote this.

    "Society, however, gives us little permission to grieve. The better we appear to be coping, the easier it is for people to be around us. We know that the reports people want to hear are: “He is holding up well”; “She went back to work on Monday.” The anthropologist Geoffrey Gorer says it bluntly: “Mourning is treated as if it were a weakness, as self-indulgence, a reprehensible habit instead of a psychological necessity.” And Lily Pincus, the noted family therapist, commented that she had recently attended a funeral rite “that lasted altogether seven minutes.”

    She describes society’s attitude towards mourning as a general conspiracy that death has not occurred."

    (Seven Choices: Finding Daylight After Loss Shatters Your World)

    You put into words what many are living. Thank you.

    Cathy in Missouri

  8. Angie - it is indeed a challenge to know how to find the right words to use in these situations. I personally have two possible answers. For those who are ignorant/uncaring/just don't want to see us suffer I have a "form answer" to the effect of "we're doing OK, but of course it's very hard". In those cases I just want to escape.

    For those who care or who I care about, I let them know and try to help them understand. I find it too painful and a waste of time to correct those who don't want the correcting.

    The worst I've ever experienced was when we went back to Canada to bury Craig. A couple of weeks later we had a sermon from a visiting Pastor who preached about II Samuel 12:20. Apparently he believed that when the Bible teaches us not to grieve as the ignorant grieve because of the comfort we have in knowing our loved ones are with the Lord means that we shouldn't grieve at all. I believe that he chose this message specifically because he was visiting this church in which he knew so many were suffering along with us because of our tragic loss. My only regret is that I didn't have the courage to take my family and walk out. Is there any point in trying to educate somebody born without compassion? Personally I'm too busy with my own struggles and tasks for this one - perhaps somebody better than me is up for it...