For mothers who have lost a child

I just read a post over on Susie's blog. I commented but decided to write a post on the subject myself. I've talked about this before either in comments and/or posts, but whatever, I think it's important. You can take it, and I know you will, in whatever way you want. Some will be hurt, some will be offended, some will be triggered, and some might just hear and take what I have to say to heart.

Understand it's said with the best intentions, with your alive and present children's feelings in mind.

Here's what I said to Susie.

You know, what I've found in life Susie is that nothing ever stays the same. Yeah, it doesn't necessarily always get better but it also doesn't always get worse.

I guess what I would say to you is accept this less than rosy time, which you appear to be, and know that there will come a time, a day, a moment that will fill you with happiness or excitement or some other feeling that's good.

In the meant time, be careful not to let those you do have in your life, your raised kids, feel like they're less than Christopher. That they aren't enough to make their mom happy at Christmas. That the family you actually do have isn't good enough.

I'm sorry it's this way for you, and even sorrier for your kids if they know it. 

I come at this from the point of view of an alive and present kid, albeit an adopted one who is in contact with her bio mom. I am also the daughter of a mother who has lost a child to death, her baby boy, someone whom I myself miss dearly. My little brother.

I know what it's like to be here and present and it just not be good enough.

My mom doesn't do it anymore. She doesn't make me feel this way, this frustrating mix of hurt and compassion. Compassion for a woman who has lost her child but yet hurt by a mom who can't be cheered, who doesn't embrace what she has left, can't be thankful for at least that.

When my mom did make me feel this way, I eventually told her. It was not when my brother initially died. I, being a mom myself, knew how devastating this was to my parents. I'm the one who had to tell them.

I've been there for my parents really forever and in this things were no different, but after a while it got to a point where it just felt wrong. I was here, my son was here, why were we now no longer enough to bring joy or pleasure? When would we become enough again, the way we were before my brother died? Maybe we just never were as important as he was but I'll be damned if I were going to carry on "being there" for someone who I wasn't good enough for. I missed my brother very much too!

I've come to realize that this conversation can evolve into a discussion on "what's worse", although in my mind there's no comparison. If you feel the need to go there, be my guest, but as a mother of one and the daughter of a parent who has lost a child to death, you'll never convince me it's worse to have a child alive and well that you don't see or talk to enough than to have a child that breathed his or her last breath. That there's no hope for reuniting, no hope for a hug or a touching of hands, no possibility of hearing their voice or even reading an email they've written.

That's not what this post is about though. It's about us, the kids that are still here. Your children who call, who visit, who care, who feel so badly for your loss. Who love you, are dedicated to you, and want you to be happy with what you have. Us.

We know that we can never be or do enough to take away the pain. That this person, who we may love and miss ourselves, holds a power to change the way things were, the way things should be, just by their very absence.

As a mom, I get it. I feel sick at the thought of losing my son. I don't even want to imagine what it would be like. I am so so very sorry for any parent who has lost a child.

As a daughter, I implore you to think about what you still have, and embrace it.

edited to supply this link