Paradoxes

When David died I was full of confusion. This is what I wrote one day in my diary regarding how I felt.

  I see many paradoxes since David died. I will always have David with me and no one can see us together. However, as I drive, I see empty streets and empty everything. New friends have emerged and old ones disappeared. David seems to be more alive now than when he was physically present. I feel him and talk to him. I do the things that I know would make him happy. I see him in nature and every where. 

 Painting of David's Garden

People who have suffered

 

I am discovering that the people who have suffered are the ones who speak the right words and give the very advice that I am longing for. They had to pay a price that made them so skillful in binding my wounds and drying my tears.

I dare not

Whenever I see someone that I have not seen for a while, their only comment is that I look good. It is as if I am supposed to look like a rag because I lost my son. Often people ask me as to how I am feeling. I say that I am fine. It is because I am afraid to tell them otherwise as I would fear that they would use the lingo that I am “stuck in my grief” or I am “not letting go” or that “I should see someone”.  I do not dare tell them about the excruciating pain that visits me on a daily basis. I dare not talk about my swollen eyelids due to the continual leaking of tears on a daily basis. I dare not talk about the deep sense of loss and void that surrounds me. I dare not express the loneliness that fills my heart and soul on a daily basis. I dare not talk about the feelings of despair that come and go. I dare not talk about feeling dislodged from this earth with no roots to hold me down. I dare not talk about the deep longing of being reunited with my son.

I do not understand

I continue to hurt over the loss of David despite the passage of time.

Regarding my grief, my biggest dilemma is not understanding the magnitude of the grief despite my faith and all of God's promises. Why do I hurt so badly and on a daily basis? Why do I feel so lonely and so incomplete? Why do I tear daily? Why hasn't the pain subsided? I am accused of rebelling against God by some and that adds to my pain. I try to hide the pain. I try to pretend that everything is normal. I just don't know anymore.

Necessary Losses

At one of the recent grief groups that I attended the leader had an article on “Necessary Losses” which was the theme for that meeting. I was disturbed by it.

People talk about” moving on”; “letting go”; “the new normal” and using language like “necessary losses”. I do not like the lingo that is being used. Just like there is lingo for alcoholism and drug abuse there is lingo for grief. We seem to be stuck with certain words and do not use our own real feelings to express the truth. There is nothing wrong with saying that you do not want to let go of your child. How could you? He is a part of you. You are forever connected. Yet if you say that in front of others they think that you are” stuck in your grief” and that you are not” moving on”. I continue to work and function as before, but I am not going to pretend that I did not lose my son. I do not consider that a “necessary loss” to make me better and to gain something from the loss. I could gain something from many other experiences in life, but it does not have to be through the death of my precious and only son. Of course I look at life differently and of course I have changed and of course I feel more connected to God and nature. That does not mean that my loss was necessary.

How did he die?

David died of an accidental drug overdose at age 30. As I interact with people I often bring out the fact that I lost my son. As they listen to my story with compassion, some ask me “How did he die?” When I tell them the cause of death, I immediately notice a change in their attitude either by changing the subject or blurting out words such as “What a waste!!” or “Didn’t you know?”

When David died I had no idea that the cause of death is so important to people as to make a difference in whether they feel sorry for him or not, or whether I deserve any sympathy or not. I notice a switch in their attitude from compassion and sympathy to being righteous and judgmental. I do not know if these people who are judging my son did or do drugs themselves and yet they did not die. I often sense a relief on their part that justifies David’s death in their minds. It is as if he deserved to die because he tried drugs. Even family members have reacted in a similar manner and blame David for dying. Yet the woman who overdosed five times and who gave David the drugs did not die? It is the innocent and the ignorant ones who die accidentally. They are naïve and inexperienced and therefore are more likely to die.

I do not think that the manner of death does make a difference to the bereaved parent as to the enormity of the loss. The loss is the same. The emptiness and void is the same. However, it would have been easier to the bereaved parent if society did not distinguish to such a measure as to the differences in the causes of death. We have lost many military young men recently in the Iraqi war. These young men who died fighting a senseless war are heroes who made the ultimate sacrifice. I am sure that their parents are forever proud of them and have every right to be so, and so is the rest of the world. I am sure that the pain is the same for those parents. The difference is that people feel for them and make the parents feel better. In the case of my son, I believe that he is a victim of war, the war on drugs, a war which we are losing and which is claiming our young people on a daily basis. What people do not realize is that these young people do not want to do drugs. They just get tangled in a web and a culture that cares more about money instead of its youth. It is an unforgivable crime that my son was not granted the opportunity for the fulfillment, even in part, of the possibilities of this life. What brought death to David all too soon, and cut his life short when he was in his prime were drugs, a man-made cruelty. This untimely interruption of his life is unacceptable to me. Unlike other wars, this war is being ignored by our government and the rest of the world. When my son died alone in his house, the detective in charge gave me his card and instead of telling me that I could use his card to reach him for questions or help, he told me “I buy houses in case you want to sell his house!!”