On the day Nicholas died, as I stood in my bathroom mindlessly trying to pack a bag to get on a plane and go to him, I asked a friend, “what do you pack to go and pick up your dead child?” I don’t recall her answer. Maybe she had none.
I now know that question was the precursor to, “how do I go on living when my child resides in a box?”
This reality changes the course of one’s life.
Years later, the pain of losing a child does not fade. In truth, the child that died is more present in a parent’s mind than any child still living. Their child who lost a future is always immediately beneath the surface of existence, sleeping or awake.
It takes an enormous amount of energy to manage grief, and this is what grieving parents do every day. I can’t fault people who have not lost a child for assuming that life goes on. Or that a grieving parent who is mobile and engaged with life is “doing better.” However, I ask you to rethink your assumptions.
Remember, grief has no rules.
Sadly, grieving parents adopt new habits for living after losing a child to “fit in” with societal norms, keep others from discomfort, and avoid judgment. For example, we might renounce music to prevent emotional triggers, thus making others uneasy because they don’t know how to respond. Though their memory is vital to our survival, we may stop talking about our child who has died because we’re weary of the fear and dismissal of others. Or, we might learn to segregate memory from emotion so we can talk about our child in hopes of escaping awkwardness and judgment.
How do I go on living when my child resides in a box?
What advice would you offer that question? Perhaps, “Your child would want you to move on and enjoy life again.” Or, “Your child wouldn’t want you to be sad.”
I ask, how do you know what my child wants?
The people not living with the uninvited energy vampire named grief don’t recognize that it’s taken up permanent residence and wrongly assume engagement and action are signs of “moving on” or “acceptance.”
How do I go on living when my child resides in a box?
It takes constant vigilance to dodge grief’s assault during one’s waking hours. Other activities may be tiring, like exercise, working, and tending to relationships. Still, not one of those things is possible if you can’t or won’t avoid the grief that threatens to eat you alive if you let it.
How do I go on living when my child resides in a box?
The closest thing to an answer I’ve found so far is breathing.