Grief doesn’t mean I lay in bed and cry all day. That’s not my style. I try to support other grieving mothers as much as I can, but nearing the two-year mark sometimes it’s a slow foggy process. I decided to make a video for Chad. Yes, I did a lot of crying as I worked through photos, and videos, some I’d never seen. When I got to his graduation and the camera was on him as his choir sang these words: “Somewhere in the Night. I’ll Be Here For You” that took me under. That was nearly three months ago and I’m still crawling from the pit. I’m working on many different projects, but my most important project will be what I leave behind.
This quote came to me when I was having a particularly bad day. I miss Chad so much, and the pain of how he left this earth and why, and the cruel reactions I’ve received for only wanting to talk about the truth is in God’s hands. Thus far, I’ve kept my integrity. I don’t hate anyone, and I keep forgiving, but I’m human and only God can bring me through this.
6 replies on “The Pretender #pray #childloss #quotes”
I think you will do what is best for you Kathleen. Everyone handles grief differently. You do what you think is best for yourself.
If you want to tell the world what you think really happened then do it. It doesn’t mean you are condemning any one. If that helps you and gives you some peace then that is what you should do. Don’t keep it bottled up. We are hear to listen, and to wipe your tears away, to hug you when you need a hug. We are not here to judge.
Take all the time you need, talk about it when ever you feel you want to, cry when ever you have to. We are here to wipe your tears. Love you. xo
Patricia, God knows I needed to hear that right now. I believe it’s an answered prayer. No matter what, I just needed to hear that. This last year and a half I’ve received more answers than I ever imagined possible, and at least one in the strangest of ways, though this one is the toughest.
What came to mind was Maya Angelou’s quote about the agony of bearing an untold story. Although and even greater agony is losing a child. I’ve thought about why it’s so painful to internalize, and it struck me that maybe it’s part of our nature to express ourselves so that lessons can be learned. It’s strange, but about five months before I lost Chad, I read a book called, Intuition. The woman said to listen to the voice in our head regarding our children. I think I would have taken it more seriously if it hadn’t been fiction and been more specific to what was going on with Chad.
Anyway, I do have to think about everything very carefully, and I do appreciate your input very much. Love you friend
I agree wholeheartedly with Patricia. I believe you are a strong woman, Kathleen. Sometimes it is hard to hear that because we do feel like a “bag of bones” most days, but in our weakness, He is our strength. I am gently reminded of that often in my own writing ministry. It takes courage to delve into the past through photos and videos. So far I have chickened out. I have not tackled his baby book with all the pictures to place in there and I am way beyond the 2 year mark. I can still drop to the bottom of the well and hate the depression that attacks me there, but lately I have been seeing that position in a different way: if/when I find myself at the bottom, I ask God to lift me out, and while He is slowly accomplishing that, He’s right down there with me. We are never alone. Blessings
Hi Gracie; Sorry I didn’t get back sooner. I understand now those waves of grief I heard about early on. Phew!
I can imagine how difficult it is for you to look at your son’s baby photo album even after all this time. I think it’s hard for others to understand because when anyone other than our child dies, it hurts terribly for about six months and than we may still feel sad, but we’re able to move on. Not with our child though. It’s incredible how different the loss is; it’s another entity.
Most of the photos of the period when my children were young were lost in a flood. I try not to think about it. Still, when I work on Chad’s photos I try not to look in his eyes. I still can’t accept.
I did feel comfort in words you’ve written, although I lean more on that our souls go directly to heaven, and that our renewed bodies meet up with our souls again when Jesus returns. Hopefully very soon.
Oh yes, and when I get it together more, I’m going to have the writings of my partners in this journey on my blog/The Color of Loss. I’m trying to get my posts from this blog moved over in order, but don’t know if I’ll lose the comments or not. Taking a website class to learn how to work it better is probably the best. I’ve spent too much money on it.
Take care. X0
You’re doing good, Kathleen. There’s no time limit on grief. I think it’s a noble thing for you to make a video, and I can’t even begin to imagine the pain. Hopefully it’s a healing process for you. God bless you, dear girl. And it’s nobodies business about the particulars. You tell only what you want to.
My heart and prayers are with you always. <3
Thank you Joyce. That video has a long ways to go because I’m splicing in other video’s with the photos. My wish would be to tell everything. Being able to talk about what happened would at least be a step forward. None are perfect, and I’ve always been easy to forgive, but to condemn a mother for wanting to talk about what happened to her son is beyond understanding. Thanks for your understanding. I know it seems to some that I should be getting better, but I don’t see that happening. I just push through and work very hard to concentrate on other things. Hope you’re doing well dear friend. <3