Little Boys who grow up and die
Just sayin... I went home for lunch (a block away) and ate in front of the TV. We have only a few video tapes of the kids when they were little. We had no money and it was all pretty new and expensive in the early 80's. I treasure the 3 that I have. I watched the one from the summer of 1986 in Phoenix. Andy and Byron were so adorable. (Larry and I were so young.) It makes me feel good to see that they had such a happy home.
It's a good thing we never knew what was up ahead. Well, I sort of suspected. By the time Andy was about 10 I had this feeling that we would lose him. Have any of you ever had that chilly thought? I thought either drugs or HIV or a random accident. I never dreamed it would be cancer in his twenties. I'm still in shock about that. (Ask me in 10 years -- I think I still will be, then.)
Losing any of our kids is brutal and unfair. The sudden industrial accidents and overdoses and drunken driving deaths are terrible nightmares... I hurt for you and your loss. I am so sorry you had no chance to say good bye. I can hear in your words how hard that is. I read your stories and hurt all over.
And then there's the the other way, a long slow agony of a disease like cancer, a pulling down into death over a year and a half, oh god. Such slow-mo hell. I'm not saying it's better or worse than suddenly getting taken, just different. Maybe harder for the person who is dying than a sudden ending? What would it feel like to know for a year and a half that you are about to die?
I think it will take me a long time to cope with all that fear, all that pain, all that sorrow. I'm not talking about my own. I'm talking about Andy's. What he faced. I would have done ANYTHING to alleviate his suffering. If you want to know what Oxycontin and morphine are for, keeping it real, that's what. So that young men who are dying, and know it, can escape it for a few freaking minutes.
I hope that your sons and daughters were given as much as they needed. If I had it to do again, I'd give him even more. There isn't any 'point' to suffering, you know? It doesn't get you a better seat on the bus. When it's over it's over and I know that Andy's courage was unparalleled, even as he kept himself as high as the prescription doses and insurance program would allow. No regrets, Annoo.
I also am still not over the sense of relief. For the first month, it's pretty much all I could feel. I felt almost no gasping shrieking pain... just numb shock and relief that his suffering was finally over. Emotional, spiritual and physical: he was at peace. I am still giving thanks, today, that the suffering is over. But I'm beginning to feel my own loss... my own pain.
Here with you.
Sarah
It's a good thing we never knew what was up ahead. Well, I sort of suspected. By the time Andy was about 10 I had this feeling that we would lose him. Have any of you ever had that chilly thought? I thought either drugs or HIV or a random accident. I never dreamed it would be cancer in his twenties. I'm still in shock about that. (Ask me in 10 years -- I think I still will be, then.)
Losing any of our kids is brutal and unfair. The sudden industrial accidents and overdoses and drunken driving deaths are terrible nightmares... I hurt for you and your loss. I am so sorry you had no chance to say good bye. I can hear in your words how hard that is. I read your stories and hurt all over.
And then there's the the other way, a long slow agony of a disease like cancer, a pulling down into death over a year and a half, oh god. Such slow-mo hell. I'm not saying it's better or worse than suddenly getting taken, just different. Maybe harder for the person who is dying than a sudden ending? What would it feel like to know for a year and a half that you are about to die?
I think it will take me a long time to cope with all that fear, all that pain, all that sorrow. I'm not talking about my own. I'm talking about Andy's. What he faced. I would have done ANYTHING to alleviate his suffering. If you want to know what Oxycontin and morphine are for, keeping it real, that's what. So that young men who are dying, and know it, can escape it for a few freaking minutes.
I hope that your sons and daughters were given as much as they needed. If I had it to do again, I'd give him even more. There isn't any 'point' to suffering, you know? It doesn't get you a better seat on the bus. When it's over it's over and I know that Andy's courage was unparalleled, even as he kept himself as high as the prescription doses and insurance program would allow. No regrets, Annoo.
I also am still not over the sense of relief. For the first month, it's pretty much all I could feel. I felt almost no gasping shrieking pain... just numb shock and relief that his suffering was finally over. Emotional, spiritual and physical: he was at peace. I am still giving thanks, today, that the suffering is over. But I'm beginning to feel my own loss... my own pain.
Here with you.
Sarah
Replies
I had a dream a couple of years ago that I couldn\'t see Jeremy as an adult. I woke up crying, it was intense. My husband told me it was just because he was still so young that I couldn\'t see him. I knew different, I just knew. It breaks my heart that I coundn\'t do anything about it. Sending love and hugs your way, Angela
My heart breaks for you and what both you and Andy had to go through. Thankfully someone did discover the pain relieving drugs that are given to relieve a person\'s pain but why is it that the diseases these pain relievers are used for ever existed in the first place. The whys, even when someone is sick, are still there. May we all find some type of peace in our hearts to help us to get through these days. I am so sorry for your pain. Truly your friend, BarbaraWawa
The loss of a child is so painful no matter the circumstance. If it is prolonged, you get to say goodbye but you endure seeing the suffering. If it is instant, you wish for the goodbyes. It\'s all so unfair as you say. I will never understand why so I just work each day by trying to make life liveable and finding joy again. A tough job most days. Your son was such a courageous young man and he endured till the end with dignity. I pray as you feel your loss in the days ahead you will draw strength and courage from him as he did in his battle. You will honor him by finding happiness again. Much love. Robin
Dear Sarah, I am crying for you, crying for Andy as I read your journal. I am relieved for him that he is no longer in pain & suffering and relieved for you that you do not have to watch your beloved child suffer any longer. My heart goes out to you as you begin your journey of loss and I pray it will also be a journey of healing. Much love & understanding to you, Linda
reading your journal. so deep. I don\'t know how you got through that year and a half of cancer. I would not find the strength. And now to face the loss. It\'s really awful. There is no remedy. If there was one we would find it. We understand love and family, hope and future thought. I had lunch the other day and at the next table were some young women with a little baby. i wanted to tell them it was no use, you birth them, rear them, give them everything you have, and then they die. I didn\'t say a word. But that\'s what was in my heart. I feel selfish and angry and confused that so many bad people live and our children didn\'t.
Bless you for sharing...very wise words...and who knows IF there is a better or worse way to lose a child...what we know for sure is that losing a child is the worst thing that can happen to a mom. I am sure that in you relief that your son\'s pain...the reality of his absence and your own sorrow is becoming visible...hugging you so tight...Karen
thank you Karen... thank you for understanding that I am truly not saying there\'s better and worse or anything of the sort. As you said it\'s all the worst thing. I\'m feeling sorrow for everyone of us. xox sarah
And I wonder: DID any of you ever suspect or have a strong feeling that your child might not grow old? I really did. It wasn\'t a thought I welcomed or liked but I did always have the sense that our days were precious and that we had to always keep our priorities straight.
No, I have no thought, no clue, that Kala would leave her human experience at the age of 17. But our founder, my precious friend, Barbara (EvansMom) said she knew. I\'ve thought about the differences between the \"knowing\" and the sudden/unexpected. For me, only for me, I feel as horrible as it is, I was spared a greater tragedy of watching my child slowly, painfully pass. The night the officers knocked on my door, I was left is total shock. Unprepared, unable to absorb their statements. I ache for my child, I forever will, but I also ache for the many moms, such as yourself who lived a daily life of watching their loved and treasured child endure that which I cannot begin to imagine. I\'m so very sorry dear friend. My heart, my soul, truly aches for you. \"MY\" worst happened....so did yours. When I cleaned my daughters bathroom for the first time after her accident I opened her CD player and took out the CD. It\'s title is THERE\'S NEVER A RIGHT TIME TO SAY GOODBYE. I know also, there\'s never a right way. Peace, hugs, and love to you...Teri.
I would never in a million years have thought that my daughter would not get to grow old, or be there for her children. Even during the time she was sick I refused to believe she would not make it. I remember being told I was in denial. But I was also told after she passed to \"snap out of it\"
Losing a child is the absolute \"worst possible\" regardless of how it happened. I relive those days over and over again. Hugs and love to all of you.
Susan
I don\'t think I ever felt that we would lose Corrie at such a young age though I have been tormented by the thoughts of wondering if she knew. It seems to me in retrospect that she may have. I wrote about it once in a journal. She was so wise beyond her years ~ an old soul who seemed to know more than any of the rest of us in our family. Though she was by far the youngest she often took charge and told us what to do.
I agree with all the other Moms that there is no \"better\" way to lose a child. The end result is the same. Completely out of the blue senseless tragedies like Corrie being killed by a drunk driver in what many directly involved in the tragedy have described as a \"one in a million\" random occurrence or watching your brave Andy fight his losing battle with brain cancer. Our grief was certainly more unexpected and sudden than yours, throwing us into the shock and numbness that you are just now beginning to feel after an agonizing year and a half.
You are so dearly loved and held in the tender embrace of the Universe of Love.
Sending my love and hugs of tenderness and peace ~ Debbie
Debbie, shock and grief... yes. They say when your loved one is in a terminal illness journey, you are in \'chronic grief\' or \'anticipatory grief\'. The shock just keeps going, and going, and going, whatever the grief, and no matter whether you had ten seconds or ten months to absorb the shock of the bad news. It\'s almost like SHOCK is not the right word for it, you know? How about devastation. : (
Thank you for the tender hug; I feel it. : ) Back to you!
The last time I saw my daughter, she told me she didn\'t think she would live to grow old, she just had a feeling...I dismissed it and told her not to talk like that...I tried to put that out of my mind...you described the experience so well...brutal and unfair...sending a prayer your way...Michelle
Your entry encourages us to feel and that is what this time seems to be for us. Allowing everything to come in as it needs to and I was told that \"grief will wait for us.\" There is no way around it is there? I had a \"knowing\" that my son would not be here for long... I even shared those deepest feelings with him as no mother should ever have to and he was stunned. Reassuring me that he still had so much life to live. We\'re all here doing the best that we can each moment and only we can truly understand how that looks for us. My heart aches with you. Thank you for sharing your innermost stirrings as that is how we all heal one breath at a time. Peace this day dear Sarah. Love, Joanie
Dear Sarah, I relate to you more than you know. I, like you were and perhaps still are some, am mostly numb. The moment that I heard Tara Lynn take the first of her last few breaths, I felt joy. Joy that she was leaving her pain-riddled body to go to heaven. After that, I felt nothing, or at least nothing that seemed appropriate and still don\'t. Just once in a while I will cry. I\'m sure I will journal this and more when I am ready. But I too know about feeling your Andy\'s pain for it was Tara Lynn\'s pain, sadness, fear, regret, etc...that was what was ripping me to shreds more than my own. I\'m sorry. I don\'t know how else to say it. I say it so much but can\'t mean it more. I\'m sorry.
Gale Sue