Wave Crash, 11/3/09
Grief is as powerful and unpredictable as the ocean, and I find myself riding the waves and sometimes getting pulled under.
Last night I attended a bereaved parents group (The Compassionate Friends) after a mixed day. It started out rough, crying uncontrollably about something I didn’t think was going to “get” me. I used to have a family. After Chuck and I got divorced I grieved the loss of the family unit; we had had a late miscarriage when Jason was 4, so our family wasn’t meant to be large. Then for a few years I didn’t think about it much, because Jason and I created such wonderful extended family with Kule and friends and my mother and siblings and Chuck, who will always be family. Jason was the heart of my genetic family, and yesterday it felt like I was grieving double, for the loss of him and the loss of our family.
I broke down crying when it was my turn to introduce myself in the bereaved parents group – I lost my only child.
I didn’t see that wave coming. I had been content with having one child, and when Jason passed I felt I would always be a mother of an adult child, now in spirit form. All my life I never felt attached to raising a big family, with grandchildren and all; Jason told me he didn’t want kids so that gave me more fertilizer to grow that non-attachment. When Chuck and I got married we didn’t know we wanted kids; we decided to “let it happen” if it was meant to be. Jason chose us as parents because we weren’t attached; his soul knew he wouldn’t be here long. We were also told by several psychics that Jason wanted to be an only child in this lifetime because in his previous life he was in a large family and didn’t get much attention.
I’m an awesome mom; Jason chose well, because I knew how to nourish his spirit in life. He was very stubborn in getting what he wanted, and I understand that concept (sometimes to a fault!) I empowered him to be fully who he wanted to be, and I am grateful that he is grateful. We hung out on the healing table with Patrick yesterday, reminiscing about his childhood and how much we played together, feeding my inner child. He reminded me he is always with me, and I shared that at last night’s support group. Today I feel fulfilled in having been his mother and continuing our spirit relationship. I miss him, but not always painfully.
So I’m not crying anymore; that particular wave subsided and perhaps will not return. I pray and trust I can ride the next wave when it comes.
P.S. The best part of my evening last night was a dinner meeting, before the support group, with Kule and our new friend Dave, who we met at last month’s Compassionate Friends meeting. We talked about how we still connect with our departed children and how spirited they were in life as well as after life. We shared our Buddhist beliefs and how helpful this has been, experiencing the gifts. I left dinner and arrived at the support meeting feeling uplifted and grateful. This is the type of support group that I am wanting, and know I am attracting to support my process. I will continue going to The Compassionate Friends to be with others who understand that losing a child is so different than any other loss, and it helps to know we are not alone even if we are all very different; we support each other. I am grateful for the service the organization provides, free to all.