Tuesday, September 23, 2008

When words fail

Last week really sucked, from start to finish…which while rather bad for free writing time was awesome for building a list of future post topics. From returned paychecks to flat tires, being stood up on interviews, I had developed a list of good blog fodder that could have kept me in posts for weeks.

With a single, simple email from my mother in law, they all became impossibly trivial.

Last Friday, my brother and sister in law lost one of their children. She was a beautiful young woman, just stepping out into her adult life. So full of promise, so full of hope, so full of good things to come.

What happened isn’t completely clear. It never will be clear. It may or may not have been an accident; it may or may not have been suicide.

We’ll never know.

I can’t seem to do much of anything without thinking about my brother and sister in law right now. What they’ve lost is…unspeakable. Unthinkable.

And yet…there it is. Undeniable.

Unbearable.

Often we think that whatever we’re going through is the worst possible thing. Our woes seem vast and our worries important ones and our trials a terrible unwieldy burden…

Right now, the worst of my assorted pain-points seems so trivial I’m embarrassed to even admit it exists.

I’m not even sure I know what pain is, right now. I can’t even imagine the kind of pain searing through my brother and sister…

I’m hugging my Denizens a little tighter right now…and aching all over thinking of parents who can’t do the same tonight…dear God, it’s just…there’s no…how do you…is there any way to…?

Words fail.

All that remains are mute tears only God understands.

33 comments:

ccr in MA said...

So, so sorry for your loss. By all means, hugs all around.

Anonymous said...

Oh, I'm so, so sorry for your loss :(

Anonymous said...

Oh, I'm so sorry.

You're right. Words fail.

{hugs}

(formerly) no-blog-rachel said...

I am so, so sorry.

*hugs*

Anonymous said...

I'm so very sorry. There's just nothing else to say. Every parents worst nightmare. *hugs*

Kali said...

I can offer only sympathy for you and your family, along with prayers, hugs, tears, and time to get past the freshly raw pain of loss.

Lisa T said...

I'm so sorry for your loss

Science PhD Mom said...

I am so terribly sorry for your loss. I pray you find comfort.

mama edge said...

Grieving is exhausting work, so take extra special care of yourself in the coming days.

And don't feel guilty if you still need to vent about the "little" things going on in your life. That's what the blog is for, right?! We won't judge.

Anonymous said...

I am so sorry for your loss. God bless you and your family with his comforting presence.

21stCenturyMom said...

That is the worst nightmare of them all - the very worst. I'm so sorry to hear this horrible news.

Cargo & Lene said...

I am so terribly sorry.
There are some things we humans just cant do anything about, but those things are usually the ones we would like to avoid at all costs :(

Anonymous said...

I am so sorry for your family's loss.

Anonymous said...

I'm so sorry. Prayers and hugs.

Louiz said...

I'm so sorry for your loss.

Kate Linnea Welsh said...

I'm so sorry for your loss.

Anonymous said...

Oh, I'm so sorry. Please know my family and I are thinking of you and yours. Peace to you all.

Iron Needles said...

Sending thoughts your way.

I lost a teenage nephew years ago. My heart broke for my sister.

Donna said...

As a mother who has lost a child, let me say that you are right, in one sense, that there are no words. There are no words to describe the sense of loss, the psychic pain so excruciating that it seems impossible that there is no grievous physical wound to bind up. There is no way to "make it better."

But I found in the early-going that the people I wanted to be around (truly, there was no "comfort" any one could give)were the ones who were also grieving for my daughter. In retrospect I suppose it's possible that they were grieving for me and my husband, but I read it as grieving for my child and that's who I wanted to be with.
And, for what it's worth, many many people said "If there's anything I can do, just let me know." I know they were sincere, but it was nearly impossible for me to identify and articulate what I needed to have done--it required being too much in the "exterior world" when all of my being was centered inside. The one thing that I recognized I needed was to have my house cleaned, but when I stated that desire, it was ignored, probably because I was (still am 23 years later) a notoriously bad housekeeper. But I craved order during that completely disordered time, and it would have been a blessing if someone had followed through.
Other words of advice: don't think you are being kind by NOT mentioning the child's name in her parents' presence. It's not like they wouldn't remember her or their loss if you didn't bring it up. The child is already physically gone; it is heartless to erase their presence totally.

And finally, in a month or so, you might suggest to your brother and SIL to find a support group of grieving parents. I am not the support group type, and I still don't quite know why I continued to go for more than a year after my daughter died, but in some bizarre way, it was helpful to me. I don't remember the exact statistic, but divorce rates skyrocket after the loss of a child--my guess is because grieving is a very individual and lonely process and husbands and wives often do it much differently. Helping your family be proactive in understanding this may help them be patient with each other. Sometimes I think the only reason my husband and I got through it is that neither of us had enough energy to initiate a divorce.

Tola said...

prayers to you and your family. and to Donna, im sorry nobody took you seriously about cleaning your house. please, lets all take a small lesson from her story.

Anonymous said...

I'm so sorry...

Anonymous said...

hugging my children a little tighter today ...

and sending thoughts and prayers to your family and all others who have lost a child.

Anonymous said...

Gulp. I'm sorry...what an awful thing to have put other crappiness into perspective...

Going to pick up small child from school and you can bet I'll be giving her a massive hug.

Take care.

Jeanne said...

No words. Even "I'm sorry" doesn't cut it. But I am. And I send my most heartfelt sympathies to you and your family, and pray for your comfort.

{{{{{hugs}}}}}

Anonymous said...

Dear Ms. Chaos, Please accept my heartfelt condolences. (((((Tama & family)))))

peanutty

Crowzma said...

Full stop. Somehow, we bear the unbearable. Life is never the same again.

You are all in my thoughts.

Rebecca Jo said...

That is horrible! Prayers go to you & your brother's family. There is nothing than a sudden tragic loss of a young life!

Barb said...

I am so, so sorry.

Anonymous said...

Words are inadequate. I'm sorry for your loss, and I wish you and your family well.

Peace,

Brian

Moira said...

hug the kids for me and let us know if we can do anything.
So very sorry there are no words.

Yarnhog said...

Words do fail. I'm so sorry.

PipneyJane said...

Oh, God! Tama, I'm so sorry for your loss. Words can't express it.

(((((((((((Tama))))))))))))

- Pam

Kris said...

Please convey our condolences. This week, we nearly found ourselves facing this same thing. I know how much we ache for our son, I cannot imagine the pain of losing him entirely.

Hugs