Eighteen months ago on August 13, 2009, my sweet son left this earthly world. The pain of losing Nick continues to be a part of my every waking moment.
The events leading to Nick's death haunt me and and remain in the forefront of my mind. While it seems an eternity since I have seen my sweet boy, the days, weeks, and months that have led to this point seem like just yesterday. They are as fresh in my mind as the day they happened. I struggle to make sense of a "senseless event." Let me rephrase that, I struggle to make sense of the traumatic nature of Nick's journey through the world of leukemia and bone marrow transplant. I have no way to explain the ongoing anger and regret I have about so many things that happened at the hands of "world renown physicians" in their world renown hospital. I am like a rat trapped in a maze. The horror movie that Nick lived runs through the theater of my mind on a continuous reel. I feel helpless and hopeless to conquer these feelings. How am I supposed to go on living my life with this cesspool of emotions fermenting in my brain?
I continue to have disrupted sleep patterns. I don't want to go to sleep because when I lie down in my bed the thoughts, the memories, the SADNESS becomes overwhelming. I have memory issues and I cannot focus. I am easily triggered to a raging, angry, cursing maniac or a blubbering idiot over the least little thing. There is no rhyme or reason to this roller coaster of emotions. I don't know what people think, I only know I put on a mask when I go out the door and I pretend until I can come home. I am not fine. I am not OK. I know I will never be the same.
I continue to grasp at anything that will "help" me. I read books on grief and loss. They validate me and find solace in the pain of others. I go to my Compassionate Friends meetings and I go to their on line chat rooms. They have been a lifeline to me. Although, I have learned that the pain of this loss will never go away. If I am lucky it will "soften" with time...years and years of time. If I am gracious and wise, I will learn to accept that those who have never lost a child will never understand. Most times I am not gracious and wise, I am just angry and frustrated that I must live the rest of my life without my son. My heart is forever broken and the scars are carried for a lifetime. My world is dark and gray.
Last night I started to read another book called "Lament For A Son" written by Nicholas Wolterstorff. Mr. Wolterstorff lost his son Eric at age 25 in a climbing accident. I was only into the preface when the tears started flowing. After about ten more pages I had to stop reading. The words he wrote about his son touched so many places in my heart, I could not stop crying. In those few pages, Mr. Wolterstorff's was so on point to the issues a parent experiences when losing a child, I just want to type the whole book right into this blog post right now. I had the same feelings with Dr. Gordon Livingston's book, "Only Spring." Dr. Livingston wrote this book about his son Lucas who died of leukemia at age 6 after a BMT at Johns Hopkins!! Talk about deja vu reading that book! It is not a very long book but it took me forever to read it because I could not stop crying!!! Now there's someone who understands what it is like to lose your child to the horrors that go on with leukemia treatment, and in particular, bone marrow transplants! Lucas had his transplant eighteen years ago and it sounded like the science hasn't progressed at all.
Here is a quote from "Lament For A Son" that I think really says it all:
"Grief is existential testimony to the worth of the one loved. That worth abides."
When a parent loses their child, they must OWN their grief. That is all that have left to pay tribute to their child, to acknowledge that their child existed in their lives. And so it is for me.
As Mr. Woltertstorff states so perfectly, "I own my grief. I do not try to put it behind me, to get over it, to forget it. I do not try to dis-own it. If someone asks, "Who are you, tell me about yourself," I say - not immediately, but shortly, "I am one who lost a son." That loss determines my identity; not all of my identity, but much of it. It belongs within my story."
Every parent who loses a child struggles to find this new identity. Who am I now that I have lost my son? Who am I now that I have buried my future? How will I find a way to weave this loss into the fabric of my life going forward? How long should that take a person? What is a good time frame to redefine everything you thought you knew about your life? It has taken me the better part of a half century to get to this point in my life. I thought I was on cruise control...I was ready to watch Nick's life as an adult unfold. I was not ready to lose this wonderful and marvelous person from my life!! How dare anyone think I should be ready to "get on with my life?" I feel as if I have been pushed off a high cliff and I am free falling into a dark abyss. Where is the bottom? Do I want to pull my chute? How do I find the cord? What if the chute doesn't work? Will I be able to go and see my boy again? As Sara said to me today, "I want my old life back." Me too Sara...me too!
I love you my dear sweet boy. I want you back so badly. Please come home soon so I can hug your neck. I miss you more than all the start in the sky. Mom
4 comments:
I was one of the nurses who admitted Nick to the hospital the very first night of his long fight. I, as we all did, followed his illness anxiously, hoping for the best for him. I know that there are no words that can heal, but I wanted to tell you that he is still vivid in my memories and still is remembered. I continue to pray for you and your family and in not forgetting hope to continue to honor your son.
Dear Diane,
You are so right, those of us who are so blessed to have never suffered losing a child, can not even begin to imagine that horror. I never ever want to experience anything like that. The only thing that I can think to do is pray for you. I imagine it takes a lifetime for one to learn to accept and move on. I know I never could. I guess one can only hope as time goes on there are more good days than bad days, but I am sure the pain will be with you the rest of your life. You have been cheated and we will never know WHY. You and Nick have taught so many of us lessons so you will always be in our hearts. Nick's impact on this earth is much greater than I think you realize. You were blessed to call him your son. Your son who I never met, has impacted my life by the events of his fight to survive. I have a greater appreciation of the love between a mother and her child. I do not take that for granted anymore. I cherish it more each day because I know how lucky I am to have healthy adult children. Diane, all I can do is pray for you, but always remember you did everything you could, and your son knew how much you loved him and still do.
Mary E.
My sweet friend. I do know your sorrow. I lost my son in 1994 - he disappeared - and of course it was very much do to with errors of the established care system. I cry daily - it only gets different - not better. I have 2 wonderful sons that continue to bless my life so for that I am grateful. I lost a baby boy also and that loss hits me at the oddest times - but like your Nick - my oldest was my best friend. I too am a nurse and pour myself into my work - especially since my husband died of ALS in '08. So the losses pile up but life goes on. I wonder how sometimes but it does and we continue. I have always thought that service to others is the only way to loose some of that sense of grief. Continue on my dear - know your on line world loves you and prays you will see light at the end of the darkness.
Mrs.Diane there are no words. With every blog post I understand your pain and suffering a little more. Truly horrified by your experience, I deeply hope that someday you will find solace although I know that can never happen. I hate that you have to hide your grief as if it's an eye sore to others. Please know that you don't have to do that with me but I understand why you do.
Love Em
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