March 6, 1992.
My daughter Grace lived for 32 minutes one night 21 years ago. In fact, tomorrow would have been her 21st birthday. But, there will be no celebration of woman-making in the traditional sense.
Instead, there is just a mother’s story of hard-won wisdom, triumph, and hope.
At the time, I couldn’t see any way (or reason) to be happy and hopeful again. But, pretty soon after that, it occurred to me that I wanted to be the best possible mother I could be for Grace.
And healthy mothers heal. Healthy people move on. Healthy people find a way (and a reason) to RISE.
And that’s what this piece is about.
Today, we’re going to talk about legacy, because no matter what has or has not happened to you, I PROMISE you that you can find a way to transform your suffering-disappointment-sorrow-loss-injustice-sadness-tragedy into something that serves other people.
Here’s why you want to do that: When you use your sorrows to mitigate the suffering of others, you make your story useful. Every time you make your suffering useful, you mitigate your own pain.
Okay, that’s “why.” Here’s “how.”
Let’s talk for a minute about the strategies of people who triumph.
- They DECIDE to get better.
- They look for the LEARNING in what has happened.
- They acknowledge that pain is part of life. MISERY, however, is optional.
- What that means is that they don’t allow themselves to get stuck in their story.
- They allow their suffering to dig a deep well that can then fill with COMPASSION.
- They actively seek opportunities to share their compassion with those who still suffer.
- They make a point to grown in WISDOM from their losses. This means they become a STUDENT of life.
- They actively seek to SHARE their wisdom with others.
- They learn to LAUGH again. They recognize that they serve no one by wearing the “I’m so tragic” ribbon.
- They allow their suffering to crystallize and clarify what MATTERS MOST in life, and they consciously choose to live accordingly. That means they live more deliciously than they would have otherwise.
If life has knocked you down, please take a deep breath and then CHOOSE to rise. I can promise you that there is someone close to you RIGHT THIS MINUTE who needs the wisdom and strength only you can provide.
When you help them, you help yourself.
When you use your losses in service of others, you lighten your own load. (click to tweet)
When Grace died, I remember sharing my despair with a friend that no one would ever know her. After all, she lived only 32 minutes – you probably took longer than that to shower and fix your hair this morning.
But this very wise man said to me, “Jennifer, don’t you understand? Grace’s eternity is that YOU are changed forever. And from this moment forward, everyone you meet and every life you touch will be different because your life was touched by Grace. Grace LIVES ON, Jennifer, through you.”
And so it is.
Life After Tampons was created as the next logical extension of the past 21 years of “intentional triumph.” If you have benefitted from what you have found here, it is because my heart was touched by Grace and I allowed that wisdom to gather in my heart and move out with love and service to Beautiful You.
On this afternoon, the eve of my daughter’s 21st birthday, I invite you to share your own story of adversity and triumph. Please take a moment to do that now in the Comments section below.
My hope is that this post will spread around the world, and that everyone who suffers will take hope and inspiration from our collective wisdom. (So, after you share your own wisdom, please share the post with your own corner of the Universe. There are share buttons to the left of this piece.)
Love Always, Grace’s Mom
This year, we’re creating special workshops, tool-kits and seminars that are EXCLUSIVE to our regular readers. If you want access to all of this and also the convenience of free updates, let us know how to reach you.
photo: flickr, mathewajay
Sending lots of love and hugs your way!
Thank you for learning from your experiences and sharing your wisdom.
XOXO
You’re so welcome, Laura. J
Thank you for this timely post. I am in the midst of tragedy, and am committed to triumph. I will hold on to your list as a beacon; a life-preserver. Thank you.
Gail, I’m so sorry for your loss. I hope you can be super-good to yourself. Jen
Jennifer, I am almost 18 months out from losing my beautiful 12 year old son in an accident. I am determined to survive and thrive not in spite of Jack, but because of Jack. xo
I’m so sorry for your loss, Anna. At the same time, I have to celebrate with you your decision to triumph. You do his memory justice. Jen
Today is my brother-in-law’s bday. He passed away unexpectedly a little over a year ago, the final part of a lot of tragedy in our lives in a short four month period of time. I know that my husband is grieving a lot today because he was his only sibling… I’m grieving with him because I also miss my brother-in-law and it also reminds me of the loss of my only sibling, just six months ago.
Your post reminded me to remember how deeply Crawford touched the lives of others around him… not only does he live on in his parents, his brother, and me…but through his work as a minister and as a mentor to teens, he made a difference in so many other people’s lives. So instead of feeling sad, I will strive to remember his example, and to encourage my husband to use his grief as fuel to make his own difference in the lives of the people around him.
Thank you Jen for sharing this.
Hi, Shauntelle. I’m so sorry to hear about Crawford and so delighted that you see a way to make his legacy matter. Please let me know if I can be of service.
Jen
So much of what I’ve done over the years, including this current weight loss journey is about modeling good behavior for my sons and now my grandchildren. My life, too, was touched by tragedy. Fifteen years ago, my mom was shot and killed by her estranged husband. My friends were worried that I didn’t fall apart, I rarely even cried. I was just so busy in the early days taking care of the business of death. In addition to funeral planning, there was life insurance to file and for a long while, it was my mission to keep the ex husband behind bars. I had a let down maybe 8 months later, but I had the blessing of time. I totally understood what you meant with your statement: “I’m not sad.” When posted on Facebook last week about the 15th anniversary of Mom’s death, many friends thought I was sad and offered comfort, but I feel duty bound NOT to be sad, to go forward and live well, knowing it’s what Mom would have wanted. It’s also my gift and legacy to my kids and grands to be a strong matriarch.
I love how you got to your decision, Pam. Your kids and grands are so blessed to have you.
Jen
Happy Birthday Grace, your mom has made a difference in my life and others.
Oh, my. Thank you.
Absolutely beautiful. You are a beacon of light and inspiration. Your life is endowed with such meaning, richness and beauty as you are living out your purpose so clearly. Your daughter smiles down on you each and every day of your life. Revel in the fact that you’re living your life so well, with intention and joy.
Oh, my. Thank you.
Thank you for sharing your story. The timeliness matters to me as my own daughter and only child turns 21 on March 7. We have been so blessed to have her in our lives. But the idea that a person lives on by those who remember them is the absolute truth. I think about my father, who lived to be 99 years, 9 months, and 19 days old, and my mother who would have celebrated her 100th birthday this Friday – I think about them every day. They will always be with me. Grace will always be with you and has empowered you to share your wisdom with others. I hope this day, and every other day, brings you peace.
I remember March 7, 1992. It makes me happy to think that you were having such a happy day on that day. Enjoy your daughter’s beautiful day, and then the century mark of your mother’s beautiful life.
Jen
Wow, Jen, happy birthday to you for giving birth to Grace, and to Grace, who brought you so much grace and empathy for the pain that others experience. I learned a long time ago that my pain was my greatest teacher, and like you, I have gone on to pay it forward.
I lost one of my best friends in the world on Thursday. I had the humbling task of capturing her huge and amazing spirit in a eulogy. And I focused on the joy, the laughter, the warmth, and the guidance she brought to me and to anyone whose life she touched.
I lost my son almost 22 years ago at the age of five. I also chose to focus on his joy and laughter. I co-wrote an article about my five year old son for Parents magazine in 1993, entitled Avi’s Smile. The whole focus was on his goofiness, his sweetness, his spirit. On his tombstone, we wrote, “Your sweetness, spirit and shtick will live on in our hearts forever.” That’s what it’s all about.
I will forward your link to my dear friend’s family. Her children are smiling. Everyone is telling funny stories. Her brother asked me, “Wasn’t that the greatest funeral?” And it was, because we celebrated her life.
Here’s to the strength and courage to turn pain into joy and wholehearted living.
xoxo
Sandy
Thank you, Sandy, for sharing Avi’s story and hope with us.
Jen
Thank you for sharing your story of Grace, dear Jen! I knew there was a deep reason I was drawn to this Blog and relate so strongly to your postings. My daughter Sarah lived just a short time as well…she was here for 5 days in October 2007. She remains with us in our Hearts and all around us everywhere, in Everything. The Light of Loving her left us forever changed, and still changing as a result of the experience…our Healing Journey! I’ve chosen to allow this inexplicable loss to challenge the strength of my Faith in Life. I am so grateful for all of the Soulful re-birth that Sarah’s birth and death has gifted to us. ~ Blessings to all the Angel Babies and their families…may the power of Love prevail!
Thank you, Jess.
What a beautifully touching story, Jen. Thank you for sharing your heart!
I am currently going through some Life challenges, but because I am a stubborn being, I am also waving the banner of triumph…time will tell, I know, and I am ready with both barrels to put up a fight against cancer…I put the “can” in that word!!
Jen, you are a beautiful Soul…Grace will always be the angel who guides you and your heart…you are both blessed souls!
Love to you, Marcia <3
Love to you and your stubborn self. J
Dear Jennifer,
Intend. Decide. Choose.
These are the actions we always take whether we realize it or not.
Death and tragedy are part of all our lives. We can’t wish it away or prevent it.
We can decide to close ourselves off from the world, choose deep, gut-wrenching anger over the unfairness of it all, and buried in loneliness and despair begin our own slow death (although it may take years.)
Or we can do is exactly what you have done: turn tragedy into triumph.
When my father, mother, sister, nephew, husband and recently a cousin and longtime girlfriend died, I savored the best memories of them and thanked God for whatever time we had together.
Your Grace is so amazing that it only took her a few minutes to share her far-reaching love with you so that you could share it with us. And look what she has done. She has touched and empowered the rest of us to live more mindfully and never take for granted the delicious air we breathe.
Thousands of us say *thank you* for choosing to be healthy and showing us how with our collective wisdom we can laugh, grow and pass it on.
Oh, Flora. How lovely. Thank you.
When my mother died, 11 years ago, the pain was intense. She was only 58. It didn’t have to happen. But even as I wanted to shut down and be miserable for a while, I realized, SHE made me stronger than that. SHE taught me to put one foot in front of the other and keep moving. The best way to pay tribute to her memory was to live up to being the person she imagined me to be. I’m not sure I manage that every day – what kid (even a grown “kid”) does? But it serves as my reminder.
What a wonderful way to remember your mother!! J
Great post. I often think that dealing with a child’s death must be one of the most difficult tragedies to move on from, so it is inspiring to hear your story of how it is possible to find some good in, what must have been, hell on earth. I agree with what you’ve said about learning and moving on – I had two gruelling pregnancies and post natal periods plagued by anxiety, depression and general hormonal hell. At its worst I was hospitalised. I felt like I would never get better and never enjoy my children. The shame of having it made it worse, especially when so conscious of tragedies like your own and others who can’t have children at all. I was in victim mode for quite a while but – 5 years on – I am happier than ever. I think I, as you did, made a conscious decision to learn and take responsibility for my reaction to life’s up and downs. Anyway, you asked for personal responses to your post, so that’s mine. Incidentally, if it helps anyone, I think the most useful thing I did in therapy was really clarifying my values, which helped me move forward in a way that made sense and creating meaning, despite my mood. This work still helps me everyday now. Thanks for your post – I hope it gets read by those poor mums suffering from similar tragedies. Best wishes, Suzy
Thank you, Suzy. I find it less helpful when I compare tragedies with someone else, too. We just each get our bucket of stuff and then we get to use that to help others.
I LOVE that you have figured that out.
Jen
Someone shared your site with me via Facebook. Death as we know it is cessation of our mortal bodies to live. When a trauma is so devastating that it changes our DNA, death, again, is the only word to encompass the loss. I just published my memoir, Something Beautiful at the Dump, which validates that abuse carried out under a cloak of religion generates woundedness only God can make whole. He honored my trust with astounding events too precise to be accidents and brought an outcome far more amazing than I could ever have imagined. Only now am I able to understand how something so painful as to have me crying out to God for death then can bring such joy when spoken of today.
I LOVE the name of your memoir. Congratulations on turning something so horrid into something of use for others.
Jen
Dear Jennifer,
I have not endured anything close to what you and many others here have, so I am a little reluctant to respond. But because your post gave me a tremendous rush of much needed tears: What I find is that my life has become a series of one knock-out after another, with little to no relief. It’s affecting my health and, worse, my “will.”
Here’s what you wrote that pulled me out of my near-despair:
“If life has knocked you down, please take a deep breath and then CHOOSE to rise. I can promise you that there is someone close to you RIGHT THIS MINUTE who needs the wisdom and strength only you can provide.”
Yes, I get it. Thank you, love.
Breathing…choosing…
Tracey
xoxo
Good for you, Tracey. Try not to compare tragedies and difficulties with others. When we do that, we generally feel “guilty” for feeling bad and that guilt just creates another layer of difficulty.
Jen
Here’s to your health and your shining example of spinning the gold from life’s dross!
blessings,
Patty
Thank you, Patty.
J
Like most women “after tampons”, I’ve experienced plenty of heart break. Loved ones lost (sister, she was only 6 & a brother-in-law unexpectedly & instantaneously at 42 were the hardest). Lovers lost to time or circumstance as well.
I never learned coping skills. Was never allowed to talk about those sad and stressful things life gives us, even the stuff that stings a 12 year old heart. Home wasn’t emotionally safe that way. So it’s taken me way longer than most to figure out how to decide to thrive despite that happening.
I’ve become a quick learner as the Universe has been sending me Master teachers of lateboth in my love life (oy!) and personally. (Making up for lost time!)One of my current teachers is my sister who is undergoing treatment for ovarian cancer. She’s in the midst of round 4. Her strength and courage have made a deep impression on me. She said to me last week, “You just can’t give into it or it will take you down.”
Thank you Jen for sharing your heart and wisdom and for not letting your sorrows take you down.
Hugs,
Ann Marie
Ann Marie, I agree completely. We can learn this stuff later in life, but it is tricky. Sounds like your sister is AWESOME. J
Just over nine years ago my life changed forever…I had no control in that destiny but I’ve always had control in how I travelled along my new path. I had just found out I was pregnant with my second child!! My husband & I thought we would wait until my first ultrasound to share our news but I had this NEED deep to my core to call my parents. DH agreed & completely understood so I called…my Mom was happy for us & said they had been wondering when we’d be making an announcement!! That was 3:30pm in the afternoon…the phone rang at 5:30pm…my brother was hysterical…my Dad was DEAD!! How could this be?? I just talked to Mom & he was on his way home. I was in disbelief, denial, numb!! He had suffered a massive heart attack & passed away on Jan 7/2004 just 3 weeks before his 52 birthday.
Much of the next few months were a blurr & it was difficult to ‘enjoy’ my pregnancy. I worried what the stress could be doing to my unborn baby…would I loose this baby? My daughter was just over 18 months by summer & it was becoming apparent that she was not ‘healthy’. My family doctor was concerned as well & decided to run some tests. On July 7th our world was rocked to the core…our daughter was diagnosed with Cystic Fibrosis! It was exactly 6 months to the exact day…how could the universe do this to ME?? I didn’t want to be pregnant anymore, I couldn’t do ANY of this!
On Sept 21 our son was born & he was perfect!! He was a chubby little guy, HEALTHY & so easy! I truly believe THIS baby was given to me for a reason…I don’t know how I would have coped if he had CF too. He is named after my Dad & is now a vibrant 8 year old FULL of personality!
The following spring my father-in-law was diagnosed with lung cancer & passed away in August 2005. We suffered so much in those years!! From the loss of parents, the emotional diagnosis of a terminal disease for our daughter but through it all we have stayed strong! Most relationships end over simpler life challenges but we are approaching our 12 year anniversary (14 years together). I could feel sorry for myself every minute of everyday but I only allow those for brief moments. I have my cry & thank God for the gifts in my life! My daughter is 10 years old & is a strong young lady…I finally admit she gets it from me!!
Charlotte. Another one of my regular readers has had to deal with CF. If you write me at jennifer@lifeaftertampons.com, I’ll connect you.
Jen
I am 11 years post an injury that left me paralyzed. I serve others to concentrate on the positive of life which then allows me to forget my own pain. I will endure and can’t complain about the new great life and perspective I’ve now seen given! xx
Yowza!!! Oh, my, thank you for writing in. I LOVE that you are “hot wheels,” by the way. Jen
Dear Lovely Jen:
Thanks once again for giving us all a platform for growth! You are so gifted at providing to us the things we need to let out the pain and get on with it! Life can really be the sh*ts sometimes, and yet it can also be the beautiful, wondrous and happy product of a full heart. I will think long and hard about the people that can benefit the most from your post and all of the wonderful comments after it, and send it on it’s winged way to them!
Warning: Another uber-long Sandy story coming right up!
In my own life, even before I had graduated from High School with poor grades and much struggling, I had decided that, for some reason, I had not been shone upon in a benevolent fashion by whatever spirits do that kind of thing. For some reason I had no friends, people didn’t seem to love me, except my parents, I didn’t have a boyfriend, I wasn’t gorgeous and popular, and I had hardly anything to show for my time on the planet.
I tried several times as I was growing up to get somewhere and nothing seemed to ‘take’. I never really seemed to ‘blossom’, and even when I did find a guy and got married he treated me horribly. We stayed together through 20 years of fighting and scrabbling, and each year I wondered how I had managed to keep him that long.
Every job I ever had seemed to be a bad fit and I always hated going to do someone else’s work when it seemed as if I had so much work of my own to do at home. I never kept any job for very long, either getting fired or quitting because I couldn’t stand it one more day.
It always seemed to me that life was something that happened TO a person, not the other way around. By the time I was in my 30′s I had already endured losses and horrible life experiences that some people had not even had to endure in a whole life time. It was not lost on me that somehow I was to blame for it all, and therefore, there must REALLY be something wrong with me. Otherwise I would be MUCH more loved and successful and less of a total FAILURE than I really was. So I survived a young pregnancy, an abortion, an abusive relationship, drug addiction, many, many jobs, and on and on. Not as many horrible things as some people, but surely a lot more than most, in my book. I felt as if I were a NORMAL person, I would have probably killed myself by now, and maybe I should have in my own mind, but I was a MOM and I wasn’t afforded that selfish privilege, so I plodded onward, having another son and trying my damnedest to be the best mother, wife, and ‘whatever’ to ‘whomever’ I could possibly be. I could never really say that I was happy for the longest time and spent years under the burden of depression and the affliction of not being Good Enough in my own eyes, much less anyone else’s.
One day I decided to go to college, and I can say that for the first time in my life, I was actually GOOD at something. No one was more surprised than me! Oddly enough, you would think that the happier and more independent a wife is, the happier the relationship would be, but not so with us. As I traveled on the upward path, I excelled with honors in a difficult program, and went on to tutor and teach within that program even before, during, and after graduating from it. Because I helped so many students I became loved by more people than I thought possible. Despite my success in my professional and academic life, my marriage was falling apart. I refused to believe it until he admitted that he was having an affair with one of my best friends.
During the next few years throughout the divorce and subsequent battles with my ex, I thought over and over again that things could not get any worse and of course I was terribly wrong. I had to draw upon every grain of strength I had ever gained in my life to handle every possible left turn as they came one after the othe, things spiraling ever downward until everything I had ever gained was destroyed. I lost 6 jobs in 3 years, even eventually my beloved college job. Some were due to the economy and some to the fact that I was too emotionally fragile to work. One car was stolen, I was involved in a couple of wrecks that weren’t my fault, and I finally totaled my car (that one WAS my fault) and had no money to buy another. To top it all off, I was in the only car that was damaged and I got a big whopping ticket that I couldn’t afford to pay. I was riding the bus to the crappy little jobs I was reduced to. I maxed out all of my credit and was in danger of losing the only thing I had saved from my ruined marriage, my house. I had gone through several psychotic roommates and crazy relationships with some guys and some wonderful ones with others. I had finally come to the point where I was just putting one foot in front of the other, trudging from day to day, trying to pull myself up at least one step before falling down two.
Suddenly one day I laughed. I realized that if I were to write all of this crap into a play no one would believe me! It would HAVE to be a comedy! Another thing that I realized is that life hadn’t killed me! If ANYTHING, it was more resilient. By God, regardless of all of the crap I had been through, I actually Loved. My. Life. For absolutely no reason. Bill collectors? BAH! The power gets shut off? WHO CARES? Not enough money for groceries? Trip to the Food Bank! I have to ride the bus for two hours a day and barely make enough money to buy a pass? At least I can get some books read! I had my son to come home to every other week, and my dogs to hug in the mean time, and lived in an area where I could walk and walk and walk whenever I had the time. Who needs cell phones, alcohol, and cable TV? Suddenly I was INVINCIBLE. I had no more time to cry and feel sorry for myself! And then? I met the man who would become my husband and together we started going up more steps than the ones we fell back down. Yes, things leveled out, and you might say that now they are downright boring, but I rather prefer them that way.
My husband and I moved to Northeastern Washington State to live and help out my parents in their old age about 6 years ago. They both weren’t doing too bad, but we could tell that they needed help, and they were still in good enough shape to help us get started. My husband and Dad became good friends and were doing lots of stuff together when suddenly one day Dad fell and broke his neck. The last 5 years of Dad’s life were just one struggle after another until he finally passed away last October.
During Dad’s last few months I got to thinking of how his life had been no bed of roses either. He had slogged through mountains of poverty and hard work his whole life and had never had that great of health, had always had lots of pain and physical suffering but he was always a joker and a smiler and just kept on plugging away.
Come to think of it, if I were going to try and come up with one word to describe my Dad it would have been Courageous. He wasn’t a fancy man, or showy. He was pretty clever; he could always make something useful out of ‘baling twine and chewing gum’, as he always said. He was a master of ‘making do’. He didn’t have a very high opinion of himself, and didn’t do well in school either. As a matter of fact, he quit after the 6th grade to do the work of a man to help support his ageing mother who had given birth to him late in life. He had taken turns living with each of his 4 siblings and his father had died when he was young. His family? Hardship multiplied on hardship. What did he give me? Smiles, joking, laughter, a love of nature, and lots of good simple living. He may have not given me much materially, but I thank God every day that he had what he gave me; Perseverance, inventiveness, love, kindness. The ability to keep on keepin’ on.
In the end, if it had been up to him, he would have never let go. He was just too stubborn, just like his daughter, whom he taught to just put your head down and do the work to get through it. As he was fading I told them to give him the morphine to ease his pain and held his hand while he closed his tired blue eyes for the last time. “It’s ok, Dad! We can take it from here! You taught me how and we will all be just fine. You gave us everything we needed and now it is up to us. You rest.”
And he did, and I am still happy!
I just got this off my neice’s facebook page shortly after I hung up from my friend who lost her husband 15 days ago who is in terrible pain. I was contemplating where I could get a book for her to help her with her grief when I saw this on facebook – nothing is a coincidence. Her husband, Greg, was my husband’s best friend and both of them are deep in the throes of grief. We often don’t know what to say when those we care about are suffering from grief, but your words have helped me see that all we have to do is be there and wait until they’re ready to implement the strategies you’ve listed. My own brother passed away almost two years ago from lung cancer. He died 13 days after diagnosis and ever since our large family has fallen apart, with a huge rift between many of the siblings. I look at what you wrote and think about his life and wonder how others can’t move on and learn from the losses we experience. But I’ve also seen that we don’t have to stay down with them, we can rise above the pain and loss and use it to live life fuller, sweeter and more lovingly. I have done this and found such peace and serenity and I often feel him by my side as I deal with life’s trials. I will share this with my husband and friend to help them lessen their grief and move on in to honour Greg’s memory, the way he would want them to, thank you.
On May 3 I too will celebrate my Gracie’s birthday. She would have been 25. Gracie was my third child and the one I counted on to finally squelch my desire to keep having children. She was to be the baby sister to my older two children and the two human beings that made my life complete. Unfortunately Gracie was born with a chromosome deletion, when finally diagnosed on her first birthday, my reality changed. I thought my life was close to perfect but overnight this mom became some fierce advocate that went from doctor appointments to early intervention specialists to geneticists to occupation and physical therapists, began all-nighters (she did not sleep), and my quest to make life “normal” for my other two children. The spiral to the bottom of the black whole came when Gracie turned three. I was convinced that we should place her in a children’s nursing home.
Gracie’s was diagnosed with Angelman’s Syndrome which was rare and not enough information known to be able to know what the future held for her or for us. But what we did do is love her unconditionally. Her beautiful face, fantastic hair and contagious laughter were magnets and she became a poster child for the Providence Child Center in Portland, OR. She was great at letting others know how a life that does not progress beyond the mental age of only a few months can still bring laughter, joy, endless amounts of love and continuous memories and smiles.
Gracie died of a lung infection after surgery just after her 14th birthday. All of our lives have changed – I am no longer married to Gracie’s dad, but have found new love. Her sister is married and has two beautiful children and her brother is married with one amazing daughter. Gracie and all the love and grace she brought with her lives on in all of us and I will always be Gracie’s mom.
Um. Wow. Completely choked up here. Thank you, beautiful Dana. Truly. Thank you, Gracie.
As I sit here, trying not to focus on what day it is…the day before mothers day, I realize that I am supposed to be happy…I have many blessings,
but I can’t help it….5 years ago we lost Scotty, 21, our middle child, self-proclaimed “golden child”, beautiful inside and out, to the unspeakable…..SUICIDE.
How does this happen to a deeply connected family? A family where we were open with the “i love You’s”, shared our deepest thoughts, felt like we held our family together with our shared faith, our deep-rooted values…
I know I need to put these feelings aside and celebrate with my husband and daughter tomorrow, but right now it seems un-doable.
I am so very sorry for your loss, Mary. One thing I try to do when I get into a difficult patch like this, is try and drop some of the “supposed to’s” from my thinking. You aren’t “wrong” for missing your son and wondering what the hell happened. I hope that you are also reaching out to others who have experienced a similar loss. You need and deserve support. And I am so keeping you in my heart.
Jen