To witness your child dead and live with that memory and loss is in a league all of its own. No one from anywhere in this universe who has not been traumatized by such an excruciating experience should utter one word of criticism towards a parent, sibling or family who courageously gets up every day and hobbles on. I can almost picture the wheels in our brain spinning and spinning aimlessly as it searches for data to logically justify the death of one’s child or sibling. There is no logic in this.
Just like you cannot hurry love, you cannot hurry grief. You must do your time in pain and when your heart allows, find a way to carry a devastating scar which is tattooed all over your life now. If this same scar were visible on your face, others would wince and turn away in horror.
Loving my children well comes so easily to me. Losing my child does not. Amy’s sudden passing has changed the way I walk, talk, breathe, sleep, love, feel, think, engage, disengage — my total existence. My invisible wound is felt, not truly available to be witnessed. If you could see my scars from losing Amy, you may never have the courage to look at me again.
My post today was prompted by comments I just read criticizing a post on another grieving parent’s website. The comments were written by those superior ones among us who do not know this loss intimately yet their egos seem to make them an expert in this field. I refuse to point any one in their direction because I will not advertise ignorance.
Clearly by now I have learned that everyone is entitled to their own opinion and I certainly have my own strong opinions based on my personal experience with tragedy.
Always remembering Amy.