Reflections

"A parent outliving a child 

-- it's one of the most unspeakable things there is."

The above quote, which speaks for itself, is from a recent article regarding the deaths of mother/daughter Debbie Reynolds and Carrie Fisher, opining that Reynolds died of a broken heart.

I have often hoped that if other bereaved parents came upon this blog, that they would recognize it for what it has been for me, a means by which to come to terms with unspeakable grief.  Longtime readers will note the dearth of entries this year.  For the benefit of other bereaved parents, I thought that for this year-end posting, I would share my reflections as to why that is so.

First and most obvious, there is no "closure, healing or moving on" when experiencing the loss of a child.  As we are about to enter the 10th year since John's death, the grief and pain are as intense today as they were in the beginning -- perhaps even more so in that the body does not have the benefit of shock to help deaden the senses.  Not a day goes by that I do not shed a tear -- some days a whole lot of tears.  Furthermore, simple things can serve as triggers to bring back memories as real and vivid as when they were initially happening.  Just the other night I found myself driving behind an ambulance which brought back to mind that fateful trip of April 7, 2007, when we followed John's ambulance back to DC in an early Spring snowstorm.

Yet, during this same period of intense grief, John's mom and I have been able to experience the tremendous joys that life has to offer; the marriages of John's brother and sister to a wonderful daughter-in-law and a great son-in-law; the birth of our grandchildren; John's mom's retirement; my embarking on a new and fulfilling career; the initial formulation of a soon-to-come life of retirement; and other significant life events.

And therein lies the paradox for me -- as joyful as the above events are, they are also exceedingly painful since they serve to emphasize JW's absence.  When John first died, I avoided focusing on the life that could have been since I believed that to do so would be disrespectful of the full yet all too short life he did live.  However, as life continues to move on, being mindful of what could have been -- what should have been -- is unavoidable.  Which brings to mind an earlier post I had made to this blog a number of years ago but for which I have since come to an even clearer understanding of what it means:

There are two responses to trauma:

to hold onto it in all its vividness and remain its captive; or

without necessarily "conquering" it,

to gradually integrate it into the day-by-day.

Thus, whereas this blog has served as an outlet for my grief, that same grief and pain has become an indelible part of who I am today.  It can't be taken away -- if it was, I would not be who I am today; I'd be someone entirely different.  Whether I wanted it to or not, the trauma has been incorporated into my day-by-day.

In keeping with the theme of that earlier post, I've discovered another song which addresses the circle of life -- this time from the perspective of an old man with a granddaughter -- thus even more relevant than the earlier referenced songs.  Although I've heard this song before, it was only while driving to John's brother's home to see my granddaughter and grandson on Christmas Day that I really listened to the lyrics. This latest song, The Perfect Circle, is by a group known as Good Luck Mountain.  It can be listened to below:



The lyrics, as I can best decipher, are as follows:

The Perfect Circle

Knocked out loaded

Trying to get some sleep in a room of someone else's dreams

Messed up scene

And it rained all through the night

But the day breaks a real beauty and we are on our way.

The loss of mobility detailed in an old man's letters left behind in a drawer

Time advances

His granddaughter dances under a sprinkler on a hot summer lawn.

Let the good times roll

Let the hurting behold

You got to let that little girl carry on

Watching while the wheels go round

Get it before your deal goes down

Watching while the wheels go round and round and round and round

Get it before your deal goes down.

All eights and aces

We had a drink at the oasis

And by the time the queen had hit the river

The smoke had completely cleared

She was pretty as the day is long and strong

Make you forget everything you ever loved or feared

And when it rains

A perfect circle around the Kingston Dome.

Like we was saved

Once lost and wasted souls and welcomed home

Watching while the wheels go round

Get it before your deal goes down

Watching while the wheels go round and round and round and round

Get it before your deal goes down.

A shooting star

The arc of a whole lifetime in one moment

Bright stars above

These diamond days will be gone too soon

Good night my love

He kissed her forehead and he left the room

Watching while the wheels go round

Get it before your deal goes down

Watching while the wheels go round and round 

And the wheel keeps going around.