I am finally here! It really is miraculous that I'm telling my story, today. I truly never thought that I'd ever find my way, or become a real grief survivor. However, I am so very grateful to say that I am, now.
The moment that my greatest life challenge entered my life, was the moment that my survival journey began. 19 years ago, my first born child, my four-year old little boy, Kyle, left this world...but surely not my heart, or the hearts of others that loved him so. After a mere five-month, but intensely fierce battle with leukemia, Kyle's frail, tiny, cancer-damaged body could fight no more. His shortened life, and very unwelcome death, has laid so much of the groundwork for the way I now choose to lead my life. But, until the last few years, I didn't see Kyle's life-changing reminders, at all.
The pain that comes, with the death of a child, is nothing other than indescribable. There are no words, or feelings, adequate to describe what such a painful experience, and loss, does to our hearts, our souls and every part of our being. Yet, the love, and the memories, are truly the gifts left behind.
So, how do I describe what we ultimately learn from our greatest pain of all? Again, there truly are no words... But, in order to help "others" understand such an unwelcome journey, and to help others "like me", I will try.
Somehow, you will survive your child's death, too.
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Try To Imagine
About two months after Kyle was diagnosed with leukemia, a dear friend of mine's two-year old little boy, Ryan, was also diagnosed with leukemia. What an terrible coincidence. And, by far, the worst common denominator to share with a friend.
Ryan's treatment started, and ended, even quicker than Kyle's did. After only two months into his cancer journey, Ryan's compromised body faced an untreatable fungal infection, that ultimately took his life. So, there were his grieving parents, making the most dreaded plans of their life, their own child's funeral arrangements. And, there I was, with Kyle, fearing I'd be doing the same, soon. Kyle's bone marrow transplant process started just a couple of weeks before Ryan died. So, the life-threatening effects were already taking place, and Kyle's little body was starting to crumble. On the day of Ryan's visitation, I so struggled with being with Kyle, and also being by Diane's side, while also saying "goodbye" to Ryan. I decided I would go for just a little while.
On the way there, I was trying to imagine what Diane, her husband and all of their family were feeling, and going through. It really wasn't hard to do, because in all honesty, I terrifyingly thought that Kyle, and I, were just a few steps away from them, anyway. I thought about what I would say to them. What could I say? They were burying their child the next day. The more I thought of all of this, the more I cried. When I got there, all I did was hug Diane, and her family. There truly were no words good enough. Because there was nothing anyone, or I, could say that would ever make them feel better, again.
Then, only five weeks after Ryan was gone, my worst nightmare, and greatest life challenge, came to life. Cancer took my precious, little Kyle, too... The pain is nothing short of indescribable. It is physically, and mentally, crippling. And, no matter how "prepared" I thought I was, nothing could have prepared me for my child leaving my world, breaking my heart and changing my life...forever.
I looked back, then. And, I look back, now. That night, that time, when I thought I could imagine what Diane was going through. I was nowhere close. When it finally happened to me, it was a million times worse than even I could have imagined. Even though I thought I truly could.
Ryan's treatment started, and ended, even quicker than Kyle's did. After only two months into his cancer journey, Ryan's compromised body faced an untreatable fungal infection, that ultimately took his life. So, there were his grieving parents, making the most dreaded plans of their life, their own child's funeral arrangements. And, there I was, with Kyle, fearing I'd be doing the same, soon. Kyle's bone marrow transplant process started just a couple of weeks before Ryan died. So, the life-threatening effects were already taking place, and Kyle's little body was starting to crumble. On the day of Ryan's visitation, I so struggled with being with Kyle, and also being by Diane's side, while also saying "goodbye" to Ryan. I decided I would go for just a little while.
On the way there, I was trying to imagine what Diane, her husband and all of their family were feeling, and going through. It really wasn't hard to do, because in all honesty, I terrifyingly thought that Kyle, and I, were just a few steps away from them, anyway. I thought about what I would say to them. What could I say? They were burying their child the next day. The more I thought of all of this, the more I cried. When I got there, all I did was hug Diane, and her family. There truly were no words good enough. Because there was nothing anyone, or I, could say that would ever make them feel better, again.
Then, only five weeks after Ryan was gone, my worst nightmare, and greatest life challenge, came to life. Cancer took my precious, little Kyle, too... The pain is nothing short of indescribable. It is physically, and mentally, crippling. And, no matter how "prepared" I thought I was, nothing could have prepared me for my child leaving my world, breaking my heart and changing my life...forever.
I looked back, then. And, I look back, now. That night, that time, when I thought I could imagine what Diane was going through. I was nowhere close. When it finally happened to me, it was a million times worse than even I could have imagined. Even though I thought I truly could.
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