"Are you sitting down?"
No hello, or how are you. "Yes, I can sit down. What's wrong?"
I sat on a chair in the store. I remember nothing about the chair, only that I was sitting when I heard the news.
"Eddie's dead."
Eddie - our eldest son. Dead.
I remember we talked about how my husband heard the news, and we talked about telling the other kids.
I left the store without purchasing anything, and the rest of the day, even the next week, went past as a blur. The birthday tea party, Christmas, New Year's Eve, my birthday, the private memorial service - everything went past in a blur, as I learned to live without getting phone calls from Eddie, learned to live in a world with no Eddie. We discussed death with the other kids, and let them feel whatever they felt. We packed up Eddie's stuff - pictures, school papers, ... - and put it all away in storage.
We survived.
Now, the anniversary of his death approaches, and I wonder what to do. I know that grief is a strange thing, and I have a narrow walk to go on. On one side, I fear that no mentioning his death, not acknowledging the event, will be disingenuous. It happened - Eddie died.
But on the other hand, I don't want to linger over his death. Sadly, I know several people who lost children, and I have seen the effects of lingering. I know people who constantly think about their dead child, wondering what that child would be doing now if only he/she hadn't died. These people spend their life in a sort of fantasy, daydreaming about the dead child, talking to the dead child, and living for the dead child.
That's just not me.
I think I'll do things a bit differently. I am thinking I might use Eddie's death as a day to write down Eddie stories, so my other kids have something to remember his by other than his death. Or maybe I'll find someone who needs help and lend a hand.
I don't know. But I do know that life goes on. In the end, that's what counts.
That's just not me.
I think I'll do things a bit differently. I am thinking I might use Eddie's death as a day to write down Eddie stories, so my other kids have something to remember his by other than his death. Or maybe I'll find someone who needs help and lend a hand.
I don't know. But I do know that life goes on. In the end, that's what counts.
Oh my gosh...Kathryn, I don't know that I ever knew you lost your oldest son. Words can't even begin to describe how sorry I am for your loss. I'm just read about the Lincolns losing one of their sons and how Mary Lincoln could not get over the loss (and got into mysticism that way). I pondered how I would handle such a loss...would I be like Mary and go off the deep end, or would I be like the nurse who had helped care for their child (who had lost 5 kids of her own but was still functioning).
ReplyDeleteI just want to reach out and give you a huge hug to let you know how much I admire your resilient spirit and resolve to carry on.