Editor’s Note: The following essay was written by a member of the Alliance of Hope Forum in response to a question asked by another member. It has been reprinted with permission.
Tomorrow, Christmas Eve, will mark seven years since we lost our son. I like to think that your question has given me an opportunity to honor my son. My last post was 10 months ago, and I am sporadic about logging in to the Alliance of Hope Forum. I am glad I logged in and, hopefully, can provide some assistance by answering your question.
You asked, “How did I heal?” I am still healing. However, I want to assure you that there is hope and life again. You must be patient with yourself as you walk through the early days/years of grief. For the first 2 years, I believe I was fairly numb and on auto-pilot. I continued to work, which was a bit of a reprieve from dwelling on our loss 24/7. I looked and researched every angle of what I could have missed. I spent an enormous amount of time looking through our son’s cell phone, reading and re-reading things—looking for clues. I was able to get a better sense of my son’s life at college, but the real answers remain a mystery.
I had to search until I needed to search no more.
My mind was on a constant loop of playing and replaying the last 6 months of our son’s life. Some may not need to do this—my husband did not. I sought various therapists for short periods of time; some were better than others. One thing that resonates with me is what our first therapist said: “You can’t rationalize the irrational.” And that is true. I have never been able to find the answers I was looking for in the first two tormented years of information-seeking and replaying of events in my mind.
I looked at our then-16-year-old daughter and realized that I had an opportunity to model how to deal with this agonizing loss by not giving up and by finding the strength to move forward. She needed that, and she needed me and my husband. She is now 23, and while we all miss Kyle terribly and always will, she is healthy and happy. She has a wiseness and compassion that is extraordinary for a 23-year-old. I am certain this has been, in part, shaped by our family’s loss.
I sought out books on overcoming adversity. Finding others who lost a child and were able to turn their pain into purpose inspired me and gave me hope. One example is the book “Through the Eyes of a Lion: Facing Impossible Pain, Finding Incredible Power” by Levi Lusko. This was just one of many books I searched out and read on “overcoming.” I am still drawn to books about people overcoming adversity. It gives me hope that I am not alone and can do this. And you can, and you will. The Alliance of Hope has been wonderful as a forum of people who understand and who you can lean on.
We can’t control yesterday, but we can control how we decide to move forward. This is very hard for me to do and practice, but it is true. We must remind ourselves of this. We choose right now how we are going to respond. Please make no mistake: I still have days that bring me to my knees, and I have to adjust my thinking back to what I CAN control.
Getting out into fresh air, exercising, or brisk walking have been important steps in getting through this. Having projects (e.g., a book to read, a garden to plant, a room to paint) to give you breaks from the grief helps. Time is a great healer.
I have become a believer in “God-winks.” There have been many times I have felt Kyle’s presence—things that have happened that were too coincidental or extraordinary to explain. That has helped.
Helping others, in whatever way that may be, is soothing for one’s soul, too.
Thank you for your question. Having received this question on the Eve of the day we lost our son seven years ago; I take it as another sign that there is some good that can come from tragedy. My heart is with you as you navigate this most painful time. I am there for you; this wonderful group is there for you.
You are not alone. Keep putting one foot in front of the other. I am wrapping you in a warm embrace.
K’s Mom
