Grieving Parent

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  • It Seemed SO Real

    It Seemed SO Real

    Since Richard’s death I haven’t dreamed about him. There was the one weird dream about him making comments on Facebook. But he hasn’t been in my dreams in person.

    Until last night.

    It was one of those incredibly vivid dreams. The kind that seem so very real. Intensely real. And Richard was there. Alive.

    I was standing there talking to him, in what seemed to be a kitchen, but it wasn’t our house.

    I remember telling him, “You really shook us up there. You’re kind of important to us, you know?”

    And he said, “Yeah… I know.”

    I’ve read many accounts of people claiming after death communications with their loved one. A lot of them see the person with maybe only an upper body, or opaque so they can see through them. And most have light radiating out behind them. This wasn’t like that at all. It was Richard in his normal body. No Hollywood lighting effects.

    And he didn’t come to tell me that he was happy where he is now and it was OK, like most of the other people have reported. He was just back, and alive.

    And I remember hugging him. And hugging him. And then I got Debbie to come over and join in. We had a big old group hug. And Richard hugged back. And didn’t protest. That should have tipped me off right there I was dreaming. Richard would never have gone along with all that huggie-wuggie stuff in real life.

    And I felt such intense joy.

    I joked with him that he’d have to come visit me in prison because they’d probably lock me up for insurance fraud now that he was alive. And I wondered who or what we actually buried out there in that big oak box anyway?

    I told him, “We have to tell everybody you’re back and alive,” and he said, “Nobody cares about that.” I assured him many people did care a great deal, such as his big sister for one.

    I don’t remember when Richard left my dream, but I know I dreamed more stuff and he wasn’t there.

    And I woke up. It took several seconds to realize I was in my bed. It was dark out. And then I knew it had only been a dream. And I was honestly stunned it had been a dream. It just seemed so incredibly real – the most realistic dream I ever remember having.

    I’ve posted this story in the “Comforting Thoughts” category.

    Yes, I was very disappointed when I finally realized it had been a dream. And the nightmare of Richard being dead again was disheartening.

    But seeing and talking to Richard in my dream, touching him, brought me comfort even when I was awake.

    And I don’t understand why.

  • Footprints

    Footprints

    I was in town this morning, so I went to the cemetery.

    The cemetery had been closed on Sunday because of the snowy weather. Today it was open again.

    As I left my car and started walking down the hill to Richard’s grave I looked out over the snow covered ground. There was one set of footprints. They led down the hill and turned to face Richard’s grave.

    I was struck by the scene.

    Here was a picture of the never ending and lonely love of a mother that has lost her child.

    You could feel the coldness of her sorrow in the snow.

    And yet the beauty of her love is there as well.

    It was a powerful picture.

    But of course I didn’t bring my camera. And I forgot my cell phone too.

    So I had to find a stock photo to use for this post. It’s not near as good, but I hope you get the idea.

  • Ambush

    Ambush

    Debbie needed something for show-and-tell time at the next Compassionate Friends meeting. She was supposed to bring something that was important to Richard or something he was proud of. The idea was for everyone to show their item and tell the story about what it meant in the life of their child.

    She asked me to think of something.

    Later I remembered Richard’s Frisbee in the trunk of his car. A lover of all sports, Richard often played Ultimate Frisbee. I thought about him smiling while he went all out, full speed ahead, trying to win.

    And wham, the tears started running down my cheeks.

    I wasn’t expecting that. But that’s how it still is, even after 8 months.

    You just never know when it will hit you or what will trigger it.

    I looked out the kitchen window and saw several bright red cardinal birds sitting in the lilac bush. From the sunroom windows I could see a cardinal on each of the bird feeders in the backyard and several more on the ground and in the trees nearby.

    In a Kentucky Wildcat Big Blue family, Richard professed to be a University of Louisville Cardinal fan. I think it was mostly fake. He followed UK closer than UL. But he loved to aggravate his uncle Stuart, his grandpa and me.

    Could all the cardinals have been a sign from Richard that he’s OK?

    Probably they were a sign that it was cold and snowy out, and they were just getting some food where they could.

    But who knows, I’m keeping an open mind.

    I miss you kid.

  • You Have No Idea How Much

    You Have No Idea How Much

    front of b'day cardGot snowed in today.

    Debbie took the occasion to clean out the drawers in the kitchen cabinets.  In one of the drawers were many old greeting cards.

    She handed me one.

    It was a birthday card from Richard to me. The front of the card is above. The inside is below.

    Birthday greetings from Richard.

    Yes Richard, it does get me right there.

    I miss you kid.

  • On Grief and Grieving – Book Review

    On Grief and Grieving – Book Review

    Dealing with the loss of a child is exhausting. After reading On Grief and Grieving"On Grief and Grieving" book cover by Elizabeth Kubler-Ross and David Kessler I understand why. Grieving is hard work.

    I never knew there was so much to deal with.

    First the authors outline five stages of grief:

    • Denial
    • Anger
    • Bargaining
    • Depression
    • Acceptance

    I think that last one is misnamed. I would call it Resignation. I may have to resign myself to the reality of Richard’s death, but I’ll never accept it. It’s unacceptable – I just can’t do anything about it.

    Unfortunately this list isn’t a follow-the-dots pathway to healing. We are all different. We grieve differently. These are just general guidelines of what to expect.

    Then there are what the book calls the “Inner World of Grief.” This section of the book goes through the many different things we grieve for when we lose someone. This shows why grieving is so hard – it’s just so complex.

    The section on regrets hit home for me. There are the obvious regrets of not doing something to prevent Richard’s death. Of not seeing the signs. But there is also the regret of what will be missed.

    I didn’t just love Richard, I also liked him. I enjoyed being around him. If I had been his peer instead of his parent, I’m certain we’d have been pals. I was looking forward to that time when our parent – child relationship could change to a friendship. That transformation had in fact already begun. I was looking forward to going to ballgames with him, and maybe doing a business venture with him.

    That lost future is a big grieving area for me.

    The book also covers the “Outer World of Grief.” About dealing with the rest of the world while we deal with the pain. About anniversaries, holidays, health changes and more.

    The authors then cover some specific circumstances such as death and children, suicide, sudden death and others.

    It’s a detailed look at grief. It covers a lot of ground and I’m sure many of the topics will bring you insight.

    The biggest lesson I’ve taken from the book is to not look for the easy out. There isn’t one. We have to find our own path, and we’ll stumble and fall many times along the way. Our society doesn’t support grieving people very well. We all think a person should “be over it” in a few months. We won’t.

    Reading this book could help you deal with that.