The son of friends of ours shot himself dead.
What do you do? How does a parent ever get over that? How do you sleep?
How do you not question everything you've ever done as a parent? How do you not obsess over every slight, every time you allowed your aggravation to show? How do you stop thinking about the times you didn't ask questions, either because you were too tired or too scared of the answers? How do you go back in that room?
We make a deal when we become parents, and that deal is that we will not bury our children. They will bury us. That's the deal, the promise made.
At the end of the Mass, the priest asked, "Are you ready to say good-bye?"
How do you answer that question?
14 hands raised in the air:
Damn. I thought it was bad when a friend of ours shot himself dead. And when that same question was asked, I answered no. I wasn't ready to say goodbye.
I wish I was there to give you a big hug and a margarita because that's the only way to get through that kind of day.
Sending lots of love your way.
I am so, so sorry. I don't think I could ever recover. I will pray for them and hope they can achieve some peace.
You say, "F*ck NO." No one is ever ready and no one should ever be ready.
My heart hurts for those parents. And for those who knew and cared for that boy.
Oh, how awful -- I'm so, so sorry.
i'm so so sorry. i'm sending you lots of love and hugs.
No way. Couldn't say goodbye. Couldn't recover.
And your countdown? Really? I had a student email me (I am looping with them this year) that she would see me in 30 days. I threw up.
Oh, dear.
My grandmother lost her son to cancer when he was 19. She still thinks about him every single day.
I hope I never have to experience anything like that.
I haven't been by in over a week and look at all I missed!
Oh, Miss Cupcake, you are so right about parents and children. My dad was 59 when he died rather suddenly of a stroke. Of all of us, bar none, the one who was most upset was my grandmother, his mom. During the service her fingers felt like a bird's talons as she clutched my arm. Later she told me that you know you're going to bury your parents; you understand somewhere in the back of your mind that you may be widowed, but there is NOTHING to prepare you for burying a child.
In both of Elizabeth Edwards' books (Saving Grace & Resilience) she discusses the defining incident of her life -- the death of her son, Wade. It's clear that nothing that has followed (death of her father, cancer, husband's infidelity) has been as hard to recover from as that. As you wrestle with this, or as your friends do, you may wish to look through her books. (I warn you, she's VERY frank about her suffering, but sometimes that's the best way to clean a wound, you know?)
Cupcake, I am at a loss - I'm so sorry for your loss as well as his family and what they must be feeling.
When my best friend passed years ago from cancer, her mom and grandmom were devestated. You just don't plan on ever saying goodbye to your child.
Recovery probably isn't possible after such a great loss. Learning to live with the wound may be. It all depends, I think, on grace...
oh my god. what awful, tragic news. i am so sorry for you and your friends and everyone who knew the boy. may he live on in your memories.
Oh my God. I don't think I have the answer to any of those questions. I do know that I've been to way too many kid funerals in the past couple of years. The last 2 were suicides. We've got to find a way to reach out. Sending positive vibes your way...
Sad doesn't even begin to describe how you all must feel. Heart ripped out, gaping wound left wide open - no way would I be able to recover.
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