When the kids were growing up Pam and I always assumed that Jonathan would be forever the adventurer and that Christian would stay close to home. But during their college and post-college years it became clear that just the opposite was true. Christian was our adventurer. Jonathan liked to travel -- but he loved being home.
I know that people are mobile these days, and that kids frequently move away -- even out of state. But I hate the idea of it. Frankly, I think the loss of family intimacy caused by a mobile society is at the root of many of our social problems. It is why so many of our elderly are lonely and so poorly cared for.
To be honest, the thought of Christian living away from us broke my heart. He is such a great young man. But Jonathan being close at least made the thought tolerable. At least I would have one son nearby.
Of course, at the end of the day Pam and I want Christian to pursue his dreams. And, we will encourage him to do just that. At the same time, it wouldn't bother me a bit if he met a nice Texas girl who he could not live without!!
In any event, it has been an emotional week -- as every week has been since the first Sunday in February. And, I don't see that changing any time soon.
That said, for some reason I have felt compelled all day to express as best I can some of the various feelings and emotions that I have been experiencing the over the last several weeks. I have to say at the outset that I am not sure why. While I am sure that everyone who experiences the loss of a child shares some common emotions, I also think that no two people can have the same experience. Even Pam and I are in very different places much of the time.
Nevertheless, I guess it is my hope that someday someone who has suffered a horrendous loss will read this and know at least that they are not alone. Maybe they will at least see that there are others who understand their grieving, and others who have survived.
So, in no particular order, here we go.
ALONE
I am a pastor in a mid-sized church. The support we have gotten from our family, friends and church family has been nothing short of amazing. There are plenty of people who are willing to spend time with us and to help us in any way they can. It is an incredible blessing, and a really good reason for you to consider becoming part of a church community of you are not already.
Still, in the midst of all these people and all this support much of the time I still feel incredibly alone. Pam and I certainly can be a comfort to one another, and we pray together more than we ever have before. But she is his mother, and I his father. It may seem odd if you have never experienced this kind of loss, but we do not, and cannot, fully understand each other's pain. Although I think Jonathan is constantly on both of our minds, we focus on different things.
When I get into the car to go to work each morning, and again when I return home, I pick up my cell phone and think about someone I might call who could help. Anyone who might have the right words to bring a little peace into my life. But, no one ever comes to mind. There is no one.
The only two people who I think might have the right words are my father and Jonathan. But they are both with God. I am convinced that they have all the answers -- the problem is that when I speak to them neither answers back.
FRUSTRATED
If you were at Jonathan's memorial service or you have been reading this blog you might have the wrong impression of Jonathan. He was all the things that have been said and written about about him, but he was also human and imperfect. He had his victories and his defeats just like anyone else. He had his flaws and weaknesses just like anyone else.
But, whatever ups and downs Jonathan had in his life none were insurmountable. Either he could solve the problem himself or Pam and I could help him through it. If he cut his knee as a little boy Pam could put a band aid on it, give it a kiss and everything was alright. More recently, if he got stressed at work or needed financial advice or even help we could work our way through it together.
Although I am not sure Pam and I discussed it directly at the time, during the last several months before he left us we both were thinking to ourselves that he had gotten to the point where we really didn't have to worry too much about him any more. It was time to focus our attention on the other two. He had a great job and a great life.
And then this. It was the first time that I had no ability to intercede -- no ability to fix the problem. And there are times when I am just plain overcome by feelings of helplessness and frustration. I am his father, and fathers are supposed to be able to fix everything!
ANGRY
Anger is, at least in my case, a close cousin of frustration. There are times when the feeling of helplessness leads me to a place where I want to scream or, better yet, break something. So many times I have wanted to pound the steering wheel or punch a hole in the wall.
Most of the time my anger has no particular object. There is no particular person, thing or organization that I desire to be the recipient of my wrath. I have never been angry with God -- nor has Pam.
Jonathan's death was preventable, and there are times when I, oddly enough, find myself angry at him for not taking the proper precautions. If he could have anticipated this outcome, and if he could have comprehended the horrific suffering that would result for his family and friends, I am sure he would have been more careful.
ANGRY
Anger is, at least in my case, a close cousin of frustration. There are times when the feeling of helplessness leads me to a place where I want to scream or, better yet, break something. So many times I have wanted to pound the steering wheel or punch a hole in the wall.
Most of the time my anger has no particular object. There is no particular person, thing or organization that I desire to be the recipient of my wrath. I have never been angry with God -- nor has Pam.
Jonathan's death was preventable, and there are times when I, oddly enough, find myself angry at him for not taking the proper precautions. If he could have anticipated this outcome, and if he could have comprehended the horrific suffering that would result for his family and friends, I am sure he would have been more careful.
But again, most of the time my anger is undirected. It is raw emotion with no one and nowhere to vent it.
ANGUISH
By far, my most common emotion is simply anguish. I can define it for you easily enough. Anguish is defined as "severe mental or physical pain or suffering." Synonyms include agony, pain, torment, suffering, distress, angst, heartache, desolation and despair."
I can define it, but I cannot explain it. I cannot help you to understand what it feels like or to experience it. It comes in waves. It comes when it wants -- when you least expect it and when it is inconvenient. It may be triggered by a place, a song or a picture, or it may just come -- seemingly without reason.
From what I am reading, the anguish will likely never go away. The waves may come less frequently, but come they will. And that is an exceedingly unpleasant thought.
Now, I know that some of you are wondering how someone who has the hope of Christ can have such a negative outlook. Well, the answer to that is that I don't. I believe with all of my heart that God is going to bring healing to me and to my family. I believe with all my heart that my passion for serving God will continue to grow and that He will use this tragedy for our good. I believe that we will all find joy again.
But my feelings now are real and, more importantly, they are normal. I get that at some point I need to move forward and return as best I can to the world of the living. But honestly, the timing of that is in God's hands. I just don't have the inner strength to get there on my own.
9 comments:
The pain of losing a child occupies every molecule of your being, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. It's a crushing weight that is impossible to imagine. I never knew there could be so much heartache.
You are right that we are all alone in our grief, but there is some comfort in knowing that there are others who understand. I know what you're saying and I would suggest that this is so early for you that the only thing you need to worry about is yourself and your family. Just be kind to yourselves, don't expect much, cry as much and as often as you need to, and talk about Jonathan. And if you feel like writing, I'll be here, along with others, to read.
We love you John and hold you and your family close in our hearts. Don't stop writing and expressing your thoughts and feelings. I believe God looks favorably on this way of reaching out. This is a way of slowly healing and moving on. I use to work for a Christian Marriage and Family Counselor. He had people write out their thoughts and feelings everyday. When my daughter's husband was murdered, I had her write him a letter. I told her to talk to him as if he were here. To tell him everything she was feeling....Some people laughed at this.....but you know what, It really helped her. She expressed her anger at him, along with all the other pent up emotions she was feelings.. It took a long time for her to heal, but eventually she was able to let go of the pain. She took that letter outside and burned it, as her symbol of finally letting go and moving on. She will never forget him, and she will never be the same woman. But I like to think that she is a much better person because of what she has gone through We will always be here to read and hold you close in our hearts. God Bless You. Joyce Waterfield.
This grieving mom was so touched by your post! And how I can identify with all the things you wrote about, especially the anguish. Today is the 4th anniversary of my daughter's death from cancer and your words came at just the right time! I am obviously farther along in this journey (at least in time) than you are, but as you say, it never gets easier. As I like to say, it just gets easier not to "go there". "There" is the darkness and pain that I can never forget.
I would suggest that you read some of the blog posts at Refuge in Grief such ashttp://www.refugeingrief.com/2014/03/to-bless-without-blesssing/#more-1913 and http://www.refugeingrief.com/2014/03/lessons/.
Suffering the untimely and horrific loss of a child does not make anyone a better person. That is a myth. We have no choice but to go on and live, but in many ways we are diminished. Any lessons we learn we would gladly trade to have our children back.
Judy, I am so glad you were touched by the post, and so sorry about your daughter. Praying for you and others who still feel the pain four years later. God bless you. Please reach out if there is ever anything I can do.
John
I will definitely take at look at these, and so wish none of us had to endure this kind of pain. Know that you are in my prayers.
I agree with you that experiencing the untimely and horrific loss of a child does not somehow make anyone a better person. But, in my own time of contemplation, it has occured to me that it does not prevent us from becoming better people either. That remains a choice.
Its funny, but people often tell me how much they get out of my posts about Jonathan. They are words I recieve with very mixed emotions. On the one hand, I am determined to make Jonathan's life continue to count -- which is the main reason for writing. On the other hand, similar to your sentiment, the cost of whatever anyone gets out of it is so out of proportion to the benefit (at least from my earthly vantage point).
God bless you,
John
This is a delicate concept to state and I only mention it hopes of it being a small part of diffusing some of the anger you classify as having no object. As crazy and irrational as it might sound, it situations like this, the living person often experiences anger at their loved one who died, because they feel rejected and abandoned because after all, their loved one "left" them. If this is off the wall for you, please put it in the dust bin, as the Brits say. I know that you know I don't want to do anything to add to your pain. You are my dear, dear friend! With love, John
Thanks, John, for your comment. Actually, I think you are exactly right, as I reached that same conclusion days ago. I just want people to know its "normal" to feel that way. I really want him to come back. It's hard to believe that wont happen.
God bless you my friend, and thank you so much for everything.
John.
Just now reading this.... It is so absolutely true that no two people, even spouses, experience even the same loss the same way exactly. Yet when I read your blogs, the overwhelming commonality of the emotions involved in grieving the loss of a child is somewhat astonishing to me. I know this doesn't help (nothing helps right now,) but just know that others have walked this road and understand better than you can even imagine what you are going through. We are praying for you and Pam and asking our prayer group to continue to do so.
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