Mother’s Day Grief
Mother’s Day Grief
Today I write for my daughter, but also for my friend, a neighbor, and all the other mothers whose precious child is no longer in this world.
Trying to understand my daughter's experience when her daughter died, and how I could help, I’ve found myself reading many books on grief. Often these were books gifted to me by friends who have also lost a child, or books that I stumbled upon while doing searches on grief and unexpected deaths.
All the books agree on a few key things: that losing a child is considered the most devastating and painful experience a parent can undergo, and that the grief is so profound it can be lifelong, impacting not only the parent but the whole family.
With time, some bereaved parents will go on to do great things, such as create memorials, raise awareness about child illnesses, inform people of the dangers of fentanyl or of driving drunk. But many will drag themselves to work each day like they are missing a lung, stumble through, and then come home and fall into bed exhausted. Everyone’s experience is different.
It’s unnatural for parents to outlive their children. It’s not how it’s supposed to be. The future they imagined for their child, with their child, with their grandchildren, will never materialize, and it leaves a huge, gaping hole.
When a child dies, often core beliefs and life expectations are shattered, which impacts the parent's identity and even the security of the family. Siblings are also thrown off course.
Instead of being happily anticipated, holidays are dreaded. Traditions that once brought joy now bring sadness.
Today is Mother’s Day, and all I can think of is my daughter’s grief over never seeing her daughter again. I’d like to think that someday she will, and that I will too—that we will all reunite with our loved ones.
But today, I’m here. My daughter is here. And you are here. If you’re a member of this club that everyone hopes to never be in—the “my child died” club—I am so sorry.
Grief can be intensely painful, producing shock, deep sorrow, regret, and an irreparable sense of loss. You can no longer believe in life’s most common things, like someday seeing your child go to prom, graduate, get married, have children of their own… It’s not something a parent will get over, and it must be gone through—there is no going around the loss of a child.
The pain of a child’s death may soften with time, but the loss will be felt forever.
So today, on Mother’s Day, I’d like to acknowledge my daughter's loss, friends’ losses, my neighbor's, and all the other mothers whose child has died before them.
