When you think of the commonalities you share with another person, what comes to mind? Most likely, things like interests, hobbies and passions.
Can we bridge the gap in areas of emotional distress? Why can’t we talk about death or tragedy without people feeling sorry for us or reluctant to welcome a difficult conversation?
Common tragedies bring people together from a sense of knowing. Compassion, empathy and patience are automatic.
The more we talk, the more we gather, the more we grow.
I would be remiss without referencing the inspirational, M. Scott Peck’s poignant words from The Road Less Traveled, “…we must live with the knowledge that death is our constant companion traveling on our left shoulder.” Important words for the future whether you have lived through a significant death or not.
I originally wrote this in the summer of 2021 after lunch with two former high school classmates. I was so troubled and moved by their shared tragedy, I went home to write this for them.
Sadly, in the time since that day, there are other friends who, tragically and with great despair, have reluctantly joined the club.
This is for anyone who has lost a child.
I recently shared a meal with some high school mates among whom time and distance has put a few decades of space between. Life happens and so does death. How did we move from the bleachers of our high school gym to a table in a restaurant discussing the death of each of their sons?
Catching up on our years since takes a vastly different direction when one has lost a child. I only know this from afar because not only have I never lost a child, I do not have one to lose. In the reminiscent realm of these gatherings, ‘yea, me too’ is not something one might consider hoping to share.
I do know death intimately, though. We are old acquaintances. I have felt the air sucking deflation of every ounce of purpose and faith. When I met death, disguised as hope and a glimmering light, it felt like falling off a cliff waiting for the bone crushing end that continued in perpetuity.
A bone crushing crash that never ends. Yes, can you imagine?
This is a path where second guessing intersects why me. A winding path full of questions that offer no answers and ends in a place where the entrance to the club requires a secret handshake.
They know the nature of fragility. They met at a dead end road.
They remain in turmoil while they stumble towards peace. They seem to rationalize the absence but not the loss.
How does one even reconcile the loss of a child?
How does one not say, ‘God should have taken me?’
They have asked those questions but find no answers. They choose to live despite them. They know time fleets, wanes and is a gift wrapped in a constantly unraveling bow.
As an empathetic spectator, it moved me to witness the grace with which they each shared their grief and pain, and ultimate compassion for the other’s loss. A sense of knowing that doesn’t emerge until you walk in another’s shoes.
Interestingly, they both attended the Catholic elementary school together but admittedly struggled finding solace in their faith. I imagine a loss so great cannot be reconciled in any form intended to comfort.
It is there that we break bread with dead people. Where shared tragedy bridges decades long gaps instantly exchanging what truly matters, for what truly does not. Tomorrow isn’t what it will be without yesterday. Forward our only choice.
My old acquaintance taught me this, and apparently, it taught my friends the same.
Perhaps, this club is not for everyone. It requires great strength, resilience and fortitude to enter and stay, but true unwavering perseverance to leave, to seek and find peace, to hope and breathe again, and ultimately, to find the parachute’s cord before the bone crushing end.
If you know someone who has lost a child, meet them at the dead end road. Welcome a difficult conversation. Check in, be present, listen and support.
If you are the surviving parent, keep them close. Live within, through and beyond their absence and loss, ‘always traveling on your left shoulder.’
Peace and love for a memorable, reflective and joyous Thanksgiving to all.
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