I recently wrote this as I wanted to try & express to others how it is for me.
The Life of a of a Bereaved Parent of Total Child Loss.
(No other living children or future grandchildren).
Happy New Year, they say. A new year begins & with it hope & the expectation of making new memories with your family.
But for me, a new year starts with the thought that yet another torturous year has passed & another one stretches before me like a blind path through a treacherous maze.
A feeling of dread slowly seeps into my bones, as I take the first tentative step forward.
So it begins again… The winter winds howl mournfully & everything looks grey. I catch my reflection in the mirror , I don’t recognise the woman there. So much pain hidden beneath the bleak face that stares back at me.
The days pass, each one like a never ending cycle of waking up to yet another day without my child. Closing my eyes at night, trying to find something , anything to quiet the fractured thoughts that blow & whirl through my mind…But there is no answer. Silence can be so deafening.
The days continue to come & go. Winter turns to Spring. A time of rebirth & growth. But for me there is no growth, how can I grow when my branches have been cruelly hacked off? I am a dying tree surrounded by living ones. Their young buds, nurtured by their roots , grow green & lush, seeking out the sunshine. The birds sing joyfully ,building their nests within those branches.
I stand in a clearing amongst them withered & broken. My heart aches & weeps, the pain of loss cuts deep into my very soul.
Being a bereaved parent of total child loss is a very lonely life. You can feel alone, even in a room full of people.
We live on the fringe of “Normal Society”. A spectator in the world we once actively belonged to.
Summer arrives in a kaleidoscope of vibrancy & colour .
Families everywhere making plans. Weddings, holidays, days out, picnics. All spent happily with their children & grandchildren. I see parents & grandparents everywhere, hopes & happy dreams dancing in their joyful smiles & laughter. Enjoying time with their children, their legacy.
My broken heart shifts painfully in my chest & resonates throughout my body. I watch from the shadow that is my world. They glance in my direction as if the tendrils of my sadness have tapped them on the shoulder. I smile, hoping that the automatic reaction of my face doesn’t betray the envy & loneliness that has spread its cloying shroud over my entire life.
I close my tired eyes & send out a silent prayer, that they will never have to endure the trauma of the out of natural order death of their children, the ones they value above their own lives.
I know that death will claim us all in the end. That losing parents, a partner or siblings brings with it very great sorrow.
But if you still have children, grandchildren or both, you still have your role as an active parent to help you fill the void in your life. The legacy of a continuing line of your family.
When your legacy has gone you are the end of the line. This brings with it another troubling aspect….
Who do you leave your belongings to?
The personal little treasures & family heirlooms that you thought would naturally have been passed on to your child?
Who is going to know the stories behind such things , or want those precious sentimental keepsakes that have no monetary value, but have been woven into the very fabric of your own family linage?
And so the year continues. Each day starts with waking up to the nightmare of another day without my girl. But I also take comfort in knowing that each day is also another step closer to being with her again. Another step towards finding peace, that is inevitable. It keeps me moving forward, despite the constant struggle to push onwards.
As the year passes ,there will be those days, the one’s that were once so happy. Mother’s Day, my birthday & most of all, my girls birthday.
On those days my mind is flooded with the echoes of the past. Her sweet little face beaming up at me, as she sees the special birthday cake I lovingly decorated for her. So many joy filled memories. My heart skips a beat as I try to breathe,I try to suppress a sob welling up from deep within my soul.
Autumn sweeps in, bringing with it an air of continuous change. I used to love that time of year. Trees clothed in such rich vibrant colours, somehow gave my mind a sense of peace.
Now it is yet another reminder of time passing without my Sabrina.
As I watch birds flying away to warmer climes, I wish I could fly away too. Not for warmer weather, but to escape for a while from the invisible chains that paralyse & bind me to the earth.
As Autumn fades into winter again & the bone chilling weather returns with a vengeance, along with the darkness, I wonder how I managed to endure yet another empty year?
I am so very tired. I watch the world go by. I am a spectre . I am a living ghost.
I want to reach out, but not to the “Normies”, the ones who are busy passing time with their children & grandchildren. How can they possibly understand? Some show a great amount of compassion. They are the ones that continually include you in their lives. They are worth their weight in gold. But many have disappeared, connections we once shared are now jagged & broken. I don’t blame them. I am a reminder of how fragile life is.
Then there are the ones that you thought would definitely be there, the ones that have now completely detached you from their lives. I don’t understand them at
all.
As days slip into months & then years, I have become painfully aware that losing my only child, has completely changed me on every level. Every single aspect of my existence is tainted by the sting of my precious child’s death.
My life is now defined as “before & after”.
A constant war rages in the depths of my soul, as I try to navigate my way through this tsunami that so violently crashed down & left a barron landscape of destruction & devastation in its wake.
Slowly I learn to become a master of disguise. An expert of being able to function. I have perfected the art of hiding the eternal scream deep inside. I can now conjure a smile & make small talk with other people. It feels like a ventriloquist controlling a dummy.
I feel like an outsider, out of place. I’m participating but existing on the fringe of society.
When in the company of my family or friends, I try to fit in & be like the complete person I once was.
But I find myself unable to fully revel in the joy & excitement of my surroundings or the happiness of others.
The absence of my child becomes so glaringly obvious when everyone is together for a celebration or gathering.
I feel my soul squirm in silent agony as I fight the urge to let my anguish surface.
Instead I suppress it & go into my new found autopilot mode.
I am the odd one out amongst my family & friends. Through no fault of their own, conversations inevitably turn to their kids & grandchildren. I don’t mind that too much, I like to hear about their lives.
But the sad fact is that I have nothing to contribute. I have no living children & no grandchildren, I have no new stories to share about my girl . I cannot talk about the excitement of my child’s current achievements & life milestones anymore.
My daughter was not my only loss. I also lost my identity as a Mum.
Yet I’m still a mother, all be it a grieving one. But I’m not actively parenting. There’s a lot of anguish that accompanies conversations. Knowing that I once had hopes & dreams for my Sabrina, just as parents with living children have.
Even amid other bereaved parents I can feel like an outsider. Those parents that have endured the loss of one or more of their children/ grandchildren. Those people still have purpose. They still get to parent their living kids. Maybe get to be grandparents. Watching their legacy & family line flourish & continue, despite grieving the death of the lost.
They still maintain their ongoing identities
As someone who has always had anxiety, I feel unable to express myself in social situations even less, crippled by the intense stress of losing my only child, my connection with this world.
It can be a very lonely place.
I do what I can to keep my mind occupied. Filling my endless emptiness with various projects.
I have discovered that while my grief has changed, mostly meaning that I’m slowly learning to live with it, the yearning has actually become worse.
The longing is almost tangible.
I often find myself seeking out signs that Sabrina is still out there somewhere.I pray that I I will see her again. That we will be together as we once were. I pray that she is happy.
But I also find myself constantly thinking about all that we have lost, the future she will never have with us here.
I have witnessed life carrying on relentlessly & being swept reluctantly forward with it, you cannot escape it.
I have learned much since my world came crashing down. So much that used to occupy my thoughts has become meaningless & unimportant.
Life is definitely unfair!
It does no good to ponder on the why’s. You will never find the answer, not in this life.
So many emotions crowd my mind, like a tangled ball of string.
But I know I cannot handle the sting of reality, so I try to steer clear of it.
However, tiggers are absolutely everywhere. I have learned to blur them, remove the sharp edges that could cut deeply & send me tumbling over the edge into oblivion. I suppose it’s a survival instinct? I am learning many new coping strategies.
I have also discovered that there is no linear pattern to my grief. Just when I think I am doing okay, I’ll have a day or even just a moment that completely derails me. I feel the shards of my shattered heart pierce my lungs, making it hard to breathe. My grief crushes me, overwhelming my mind. I have no strength to fight & so I go with it letting the tears flow like a raging river.
I don’t experience genuine happiness or joy anymore & I don’t think I ever will again. That feeling of contentment with my life is long gone. But I have learned to cut myself a little slack when something strikes me as funny or entertaining, however short lived. People tell me I’m strong. But I haven’t got much of a choice.
Losing my only precious child changed my outlook on life. I used to fear dying. In fact I am now more afraid of living to be old. The thought of my husband Darryl dying before me fills me with terror.
I still cannot fathom the rest of my life feeling as I do. So I try not to think too far ahead, it’s too daunting to contemplate. Instead I just try to get through each day the best I can.
When those I know ask me how I am?
I tell them that I am treading water. It’s as fitting as any descriptive phrase I can think of.
And so I will continue to “tread water” until the joyful day I can leave this cruel world behind & be reunited with my Sabrina. That will be the time that my broken heart will heal & I can rest in peace with my beloved girl for eternity.
Dawn. Mum of Sabrina, forever 32.
