My cushion
They say when you lose a child is like being thrown into a deep dark pit or hole or very deep valley. None of which you can see your way out of. And those are all true.
The day the surgeon called me and my close family into that room and said those words,, " he is no longer alive" my world was pulled out from under me,,,and I fell. I fell into that hole, pit, valley. And I have wondered how I didnt die at that moment. I think I know why now.
Because I had a cushion at the bottom of my pit. I didnt know it at the time because of how broken I was. My life,,my spirit, my heart is shattered. I hurt agonizingly but Im still alive, I hurt so much I want to die,,,but I live. Yet I know now that it was because of the cushion. Now my cushion is not filled with soft, comforting material such as foam or feathers or even air. My cushion is filled with denial, disbelief, shock and the false knowlegde that this is all a nightmare. That my son is going to walk in the room and flash me that beautiful smile and give me one of his amazing hugs and I will hear his wonderful laugh. That I will walk into his room and he will be there,,playing xbox and raging and cussing at the game.
But it seems my cushion had a small hole in it. It took months but it has slowly deflated. I now know that all this is all too real. That in this lifetime I will never again feel his hugs or hear his laugh of see his face. Now,, and only now,,,,am I at rock bottom.
The day the surgeon called me and my close family into that room and said those words,, " he is no longer alive" my world was pulled out from under me,,,and I fell. I fell into that hole, pit, valley. And I have wondered how I didnt die at that moment. I think I know why now.
Because I had a cushion at the bottom of my pit. I didnt know it at the time because of how broken I was. My life,,my spirit, my heart is shattered. I hurt agonizingly but Im still alive, I hurt so much I want to die,,,but I live. Yet I know now that it was because of the cushion. Now my cushion is not filled with soft, comforting material such as foam or feathers or even air. My cushion is filled with denial, disbelief, shock and the false knowlegde that this is all a nightmare. That my son is going to walk in the room and flash me that beautiful smile and give me one of his amazing hugs and I will hear his wonderful laugh. That I will walk into his room and he will be there,,playing xbox and raging and cussing at the game.
But it seems my cushion had a small hole in it. It took months but it has slowly deflated. I now know that all this is all too real. That in this lifetime I will never again feel his hugs or hear his laugh of see his face. Now,, and only now,,,,am I at rock bottom.
Replies
OH how real your description is to me....to all of us I\'m sure....
Yes, my first cushion was Shock and Disbelief....and like you, slowly the air was let out of that cushion and I found myself at rock bottom...in the deepest pit I\'ve ever known.
Then, I discovered ropes being tossed in my direction to help me climb out of my black pit. At the other end holding those ropes were the moms who\'d walked before me. I wasn\'t always able to grab hold and even when I did, I wasn\'t able to climb too high and more often than not fell crashing back into my pit time and time again....but I began to notice something....I had new cushions waiting to catch me. Cushions of LOVE and compassion and understanding that somehow, these miraculous women had managed to slip under me. The falls still came, but the brutality of the fall wasn\'t as great as that first fall.... As time has continued for me and as I\'ve been able to build upon those first cushions and gain strength to hold on tightly to those ropes, I\'ve managed to climb out. And all the while Kala, my precious beyond precious Kala, has been both in the pit and standing on the edge of it encouraging me to just keep trying...
I\'m sorry you heard those words. I\'m sorry for the fall into your pit. I\'m sorry for the life shattering change that was forced upon you. I\'m sorry you can\'t feel Jeremy\'s hugs or hear his laughter or see his smile. It sucks!
All I know to tell you my precious friend is even in the pit, at the lowest of lows, there is hope for peace and comfort and you can, I promise you can, slowly begin to climb upward and outward.....and believe it or not, you already are...
I love you and I sent all the love energy I have to you in this very moment~~
you are not alone,,,too many moms here that know and share your grief..
love ya!
Your words cut so deep. Not that I\'m not experiencing exactly what you described but to read anothers pain as you so eloquently described - this is exactly where I am at now. My \"cushion\" is denial, and the emotions that come crashing in on my ability to live in denial like a tidal wave that can blind side a sleepy little village that never thinks something so unimaginable could ever happen to them. I love your words RememberKala, I love that you have the strength to gently guide us who are newer to this nightmare, in a direction of tomorrow. Of hope, of perhaps one day... so that when the emotion of being \"stuck\" surfaces, there is proof that there is a gentler time ahead.
I too am at a loss as to why I am still living. If this is what my new living is all about, then my question is why? Why live?
And yet, here I am.
gentle hugs as we function through our days and drowned our nights with tears and unanswered questions...
Your journal brought tears to my eyes. That seems to happen when I read about someone\'s intense pain over the loss of their child.....and I too know that pain.
I can relate to hurting so much that it seems like not living anymore may be the solution to take away that pain. But....we go on.....and before we know it some time has gone by & our pain is a tiny bit less. For me it\'s only after time has gone by that I can look back & see that I have moved forward some. You too may look back & see how far you have come, even though you don\'t feel yourself moving forward now. It most likely is during these times when we feel such pain & so stuck, that our \"sisters of the heart\" have such a positive impact on us. It may be all we can do to come here & read other\'s journals & that\'s ok. Some feel able to journal or possibly send hugs, some don\'t. But that\'s the beauty of FMO....we take what we need & give IF we can.
Take care dear friend. Hugs of understanding.....Vicki
I hear you and I understand what you are describing. I think that cushion is filled with what is needed for a very long time so that we don\'t implode. Denial gets a bad rap, yet it is what has kept many of us facing another day and is that cushion you describe.
Others become our bubble watchers and rope throwers and you are not alone as you bottom out. BE there as long as you need to be and when you are ready we are here for you. No fixes, no answers, no solutions... Just a group of loving women whose hearts have been broken open and feel very deeply for you and one another.
Read, receive, absorb, throw away, share, cocoon, reach out... All of it becomes our world and I\'m so sorry any of us have to know this anguish. Deepest of sighs... Yet, somehow one moment at a time we are still here as are you. Together we are stronger and can make it. I have because of each of YOU who have been my anchor places along the way when I\'ve needed to tie up for awhile and rest before I set out once again in the choppy sea of life.
Heartfelt hugs and care~
XO Joanie
I have been where you are but in a different place. I was with my first wife for 17 years and when I was 34 she died. My best friend, my lover and my soulmate. I almost committed suicide on several occasions. I struggled to keep going and struggled to keep working. My brain started to shut down to avoid the pain. Sometimes, I even forgot to breathe! I also tried one-night stands with women I cannot even remember, now- just to ease my suffering.
I survived and if I can, then so can you. My friends were around for me to talk to and I am here for you. My Yahoo e-mail address is the same as my screen name here. If you want to share, ramble or scream, I am here.
I will close by telling you that I am praying that God will comfort you in your grief.
Glenn