The Week

Lisa Thomas • July 24, 2019

Last week was an incredibly hard week for them.  In the middle of it they celebrated their 27 th anniversary.  At the beginning they celebrated the birth of their first born son, 25 years ago.  And at the end they marked his death at the age of 23.  Joy and joy . . . overshadowed by immense sorrow and grief.

So how did they acknowledge these anniversaries?  Well, a short trip was in order to celebrate their union.  For their son’s birthday they hosted a party of 150 of his and their closest friends—a party held in his memory to raise awareness and donations for a charity he supported in life . . . and now in death.  And that most somber of days?  How did they acknowledge it?  Just like they do every other day.  Just like they will from here to eternity.  It’s just that on this one day, it hits harder than on all the others.

Even though it has been two years it might as well have been yesterday.  There are days the memories overwhelm them . . . and days when Life imitates normal and they move with relative ease through the muck of grief.  They are some of the fortunate ones.  They have each other and they have their other children and they’ve managed not to lose sight of those blessings.  Granted, there has been family counseling and couples’ counseling and individual counseling—all of which proved beneficial in facing their loss.  But the important thing through it all has been not to lose the strength of their relationship, to support one another on the bad days and to hold on to their faith as they hold on to each other.

Unfortunately, not all marriages or families survive the loss of a child.  Many parents blame each other, even though there is no blame to be assigned.  Many parents lose sight of those children who remain—living, breathing human beings who are also hurting and looking to them for guidance . . . and for an understanding of all the whys.  This couple knew the dangers that lay ahead in their journey, and they actively took steps to prepare for those, to meet them head-on and to prevail.  Is it easy?  Of course not.  Are they traveling this road side by side, at the same speed, footstep for footstep?  Of course not, because although they are two united as one, they are also still individuals with individual fears to face and obstacles to overcome.  Initially, she began counseling first but he quickly saw that it would take both of them to survive the loss and both of them to pull their family together and then hold them there.  So he also began and it made a world of difference in how they approached the future.

Another key component of their survival is their willingness to be open and honest about their loss.  They are not afraid to talk about their son, to acknowledge his life—and his death—and  how they have struggled with his absence, but they do it in such a way that those around them never feel awkward or uncomfortable in the conversations.  They have taken their grief and used it for good, encouraging others while still trying to walk the path themselves.  It is a journey that will never end but as they move farther and farther away from that terrible day, they have chosen to look for the joy that could easily and understandably have been left behind.

No one should ever have to endure the trials and tribulations of grief alone, especially when mourning the loss of a child, and when you have a partner in life, those trials and tribulations should be more bearable.  Not necessarily easier or less painful, but able to be withstood because the pain is being shared—but that only happens if you face them together.  That requires a conscious decision that each partner must make, and it must be made every minute of every day.  To do anything else is to risk failure . . . and the loss of so much more.

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