Life has been altered for our family by the death of our oldest child, Kate. I probably would have passed over a post like this a couple of years ago. But now, I am turning aside here and there, seeking wisdom others may have collected on this road called grief.
I’m not shooting for profound anymore. When your child dies, and your reality is rearranged, profound isn’t worth the effort. Instead, I find myself challenged by a statement my son made. He has faced his demons and is facing his sister’s death the way he is facing all of life these days: head-on. He encouraged me not to run away from things, not to try to escape the pain. Going through brings light. So, when I binge watch Netflix, I am escaping. But this sharp-edged piece of broken glass in my heart reminds me, almost hourly, that there is a loss.
I told 150+ people at the celebration of her life, that we should be identified by her life and not by her death. Wasn’t that noble of me? Wasn’t it positive thinking that pointed us all to her goodness and light? Except, the pain, the insistent and unrelenting pain seeps back into my awareness constantly. So, go ahead, everyone else and take my advice. But as for me, I will forever be identified by her death. I am a mother whose child died.
The unnatural way of things. I was supposed to die first. Three years ago, when she was diagnosed with BRCA2 gene breast cancer, I simply believed she would survive. She was 40. There was no doubt, in either of us. Oh, sure, she probably had her days when an ache here or there sent a shiver up her lovely spine and suggested maybe the cancer was back. And being so committed to wellness, organic everything, yoga, spirit life, and more, there seemed no doubt that with the help of Western medicine, this powerful woman would live, and outlive me.
Two weeks before Kate got her devastating diagnosis, my husband also got his. Colorectal cancer. We were just beginning to really have fun. We were not quite retired, but living part of the year in Ireland, and the rest back in the U.S. And then, within two weeks, our family had two cancer victims to deal with.
Then, in 2016, my husband’s brother died of tongue cancer. In 2018, my mother-in-law passed away, with a diagnosis of cancer. (She was in her 90’s, but still). This demonic horde has devoured my family. I feel helpless. And going forward in my life, I am examining this helplessness, this great weakness, as a way of life.
So, I think I will write more as the days go on. I have spiritual things I am exploring and want to share. Not sure who will listen, but they’ll be here in cyberspace for whosoever will.