Each of the cards, notes, and e-mails that arrived following Joseph’s death was appreciated, but a few touched us deep down where our souls bled. Those came from fellow grieving parents.
We quickly learned that we are all members of a secret society because, unlike the rest of the world, each of us has buried the most precious part of ourselves. We are Grieving Parents: the Club Nobody Wants to Join. Our club hates welcoming new members because we don’t want anyone else to know this searing pain.
There are no barriers in our club. Race, denomination, political party, and social status do not matter. Each of us has been stripped bare of pretenses and our vulnerabilities are exposed. We’re all one, living the most unthinkable nightmare together.
Our new friends assured us it was indeed normal for us to weave in and out of the stages of grief and that God could handle each raw, ugly emotion. They dove back into ugly, dark, grief places with us and assured us that we weren’t losing our minds. They wrapped their arms around us and didn’t judge the groans spewing out from the depths of our souls.
Since Joseph’s death, we have met hundreds of parents who have buried children. Some have horrific stories: children who were murdered, children who committed suicide, and circumstances that now involve costly lawsuits and families ripped apart. Some have lost multiple children.
Despite differing circumstances, there is a common thread that weaves us tightly together. We’ve each lost a child, and our hearts and souls ache.
A few of the parents we met were bitter, believing God did this to them. For the sake of our sanity, we found it imperative to avoid bitter people while deep in the throes of grief.
We asked our kindred spirits questions no one else could understand or answer: How do we survive our son’s birthday? What do we do on the anniversary of his death? How do we get through Mother’s Day / Father’s Day? What do we do with our son’s room and belongings? How do we make people understand that we’re still the parents of three sons? Will we ever stop wanting to die?
Phil and I attended The Compassionate Friends and GriefShare, which are wonderful support groups. Although heart-wrenching, meeting with others walking this unwanted journey was cathartic. We found healing in sharing our stories and bearing one another’s burdens. Each of us was fragile and vulnerable, yet somehow strengthened by our common emptiness. We remain permanently bonded.
A personal note …
Friend,
Are you new to Grieving Parents: Club Nobody Wants to Join? If so, please know that you are not alone. Know that we are many who pray for you regularly. Know that God sits with you, suffers with you, and will sustain you. Hang on tight. Lastly, read my letter, Dear Newly Bereaved Mom, written especially for you.
Shelley