Unsolicited Advice from a Shattered Heart

December 4th is quickly approaching, a day I have come to dread for the past 4 years. An anniversary of sorts that isn’t celebratory but marked with profound sadness, a harsh, unnecessary reminder of the trauma and heartbreak that would nearly kill me. It’s been 4 years since I learned of the passing of my beautiful daughter, Madison, and her loving and amazing boyfriend, JonPaul.

I have learned a lot through this journey through the dark valley of child loss, and yet I have so much more to learn. Just when I think I have a firm grasp on surviving, grief comes in a rips that carpet out right from under my feet again. It’s a sneaky bastard, often attacking when I least expect it. It never goes away; it just goes into hiding and pounces like a leopard eyeing its prey.

Too often, I have been told, “I don’t know how you do it!” “I can’t imagine what you are going through.” And while I often struggle for a proper response, there are some things I have come to realize.

To explain what child loss is like for the grieving parent, I invite you to think about what it feels like when someone asks about your child(ren). When asked about their child(ren), you see a glimmer in their eyes, and a huge smile creeps across their face. Their skin becomes a bit brighter, and their chests puff out with pride. That, that my friends, is unconditional undying love. One that happens when you learn of the existence of that child from the first positive pregnancy test, and is enhanced even greater when you first hold them in your arms.

Now, imagine tragedy striking and that child is called home to Heaven. The grounds fall out beneath you as you start grabbing onto any tangible things that is theirs, holding tight in a desperate attempt to keep something, some piece of them, from being taken away. You keep their things, maybe even odd things, things you can’t part with but can’t explain why. It’s because letting go of those things means letting go of them again. If their clothing is no longer hanging in the closet, that's just one more part of them that has gone away. It gives you a sense of control in a situation where you have no control. You couldn’t stop their death, but you can ensure their things remain - little reminders of them, pieces of cloth that still carry their scent. You smother yourself with it, inhaling it, followed by bursts of seemingly endless tears as your broken heart falls apart piece by piece, beat by beat. That love, that undying love, doesn’t go away - it consumes you.

They say there are different stages of grief when you lose a loved one, but when you lose a child, it’s more like different levels of hell. You bounce from one to another like falling from the top of a tree and hitting one branch after another as you desperately try to grab onto the limbs to help break that devastating fall. You never truly feel any triumph or satisfaction of achievement. It’s survival, it’s surviving and wandering, searching, hoping, and wishing to fill the gaping hole in your shattered heart. You roam the earth with empty arms that became oh so very heavy as they wait to hold that child again.

You don’t know your name anymore, because when they were born, your identity changed, you became {insert your child’s name]’s mom or dad, but when they die, you die too. A huge part of you dies, that person you once were, “[insert your child’s name] ’s mom or dad” and you are so very lost. Not an orphan, not a widow or widower, just simply a devastated parent whose child no longer walks this earth. Serving a life sentence for a crime they did not commit, no possibility of parole, no early release from this hell. Living the reality of every parent’s absolute worst nightmare. No assigned title or name, just an empty, broken, and grief-stricken shell of a person who once thrived. Carrying yourself through minute by minute, breath by breath, forever wandering the earth and wondering how you got here. Why me? Why my child?

I consider myself fortunate to have a strong faith basis. I encourage you to explore the same if you do not currently have one. Prayer is a form of meditation and clinically proven to support positive mental health and reduce your stress level. When it feels as though all hope is lost, you are lost, wondering what to do, give faith a chance. When you lose the most important person in your life, the one with whom the sun rose and set with, what more can you possibly have to lose, give God a chance.

I believe God wants us all to be saints with him in heaven, and to achieve sainthood, you have to reach greatness, but no one saint has reached greatness without struggle and pain. One’s soul needs to be purified and ready, and through that purification comes trial and tribulations. I believe that parents who lose a child start their purgatory now so that when our time comes to be home with God with our children, we will be ready with no more delay in healing that shattered heart and filling those empty arms.

Some may be angry with God, and I can understand that. I also believe that God, who is all-loving and forgiving, understands it too. This is where forgiveness comes into play. This part is among the most difficult, and for some, it is something that may never be achieved. There is no right or wrong way to grieve, and if you cannot bring yourself to forgive (if forgiveness is needed in your given grief journey), that is ok too!

Forgiveness will set you free, whether you need to forgive yourself or someone else. For me, this was needed in several ways. I had to find a way to forgive myself for the unreasonable guilt I laid upon myself. I questioned so many of my choices while trying to find answers to why this happened and why my child. I had so many “what if” moments, as if exploring the answers to them could possibly change the horrific outcome. And then the biggest one of all, forgiving the one who caused my daughter’s death. I was so very angry, infuriated, and often it was paralyzing my grief. It took a lot of time, reflection, and prayer to get to the point of forgiving him and even praying for his soul. Here is the funny thing about forgiveness: you can forgive, but you do not need to forget! And forgiving isn’t saying it’s ok that this or that happened, it’s saying “I’m not going to be held down by the chains of the pain of anger or inability to forgive and I’m not forgetting how I got here or why this happened and I’m not putting myself in a situation where I have to keep finding a way to forgive.” If you can do this, I promise it will truly set you free.

Unsolicited advice from a shattered heart…

Thank you,
Jenifer, Madison’s Mom 💔