There Were Aggravations... in Understanding the Unthinkable

Revised: 09/06/2015 10:32 p.m.

  • Sept. 5, 2015, 1 a.m.
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  • Public

…those don’t stop for something as insignificant as death. Nick’s financial troubles were catching up to him and he was about a month away from finalizing bankruptcy. When bill collectors find that out, they circle like sharks. The 8 am robo-calls drove me nuts. When they learned of his death, they tried to dive into his estate. He died intestate, but the lawyer said to do nothing since Nick had no assets. I sent out the lawyer’s “To whom it concerns” letter along with the death certificate and that seems to have settled the issue.

When you hit a block wall, you learn to be kind to yourself. Another lesson learned about death. This roadblock reminds me of another lesson: the road to healing is bumpy and full of U-turns.

Some thoughts about death and the lessons learned: Extended hugs are draining. I know that the intention is to somehow transfer enough love to fill the hole, but it can’t. A warm hug, an “I’m so sorry”, “I love you” helps. While relating a story about a death you experienced is meant to convey empathy, it becomes overwhelming. While YOU are only telling one story, the person grieving is hearing ALL the stories.

On the flip side, death is not a competition. So many say “but it’s nothing compared to what you experienced” and my heart aches. All death is equal. The loss of your beloved pet causes just as much pain as I feel from the loss of Nicholas. I am not saying that human life is more or less important than an animal’s, I’m saying the hurt is equal. I am also not saying that death is the same. The shock of losing Dad, the struggle with Mom, my brother who died too young, the sadness that washes over me when I think of my majorly cool welsh terrier that died several years ago just before Christmas, were all different hurts/pain/loss, but each death was devastating.

The loss of my child is the loss of part of my body, like I’ve lost an arm and it’s so unfair because I was taking good care of it and I was the above average mom and how could someone devoted to nurturing have that snatched away?

Now I am going to share some personal beliefs. You may not agree. That’s fine. I’m not out to convert you. I live my life and tell you how I see things and that is my witness and my testimony. Take it for what you will. While I realize that not all my friends are Christian, I do think most people want to know three things about death that are oftentimes not addressed well:

Why did God take my father/mother/brother/sister/friend?
Where is this person who died?
Is the person I loved okay?

Firstly, I don’t think God “takes” a person. Lifestyle choices certainly can change the odds of a long life, as can unknown genetic problems. Consider too God’s view of death. I don’t think He sees it the way we do. For our Creator, Nicholas has simply returned home. Do you know why death stings so much? I do. It’s because we were not created to die. Our bodies are marvelous machines capable of rebuilding itself through cell regeneration, the heart a pump that should never wear out. We were created to play naked in the garden all day.

The answer to the second question is disputed within the Christian community. Some say we die, get buried and sleep until the Resurrection, others say we walk streets of gold in new bodies. Then there’s the Catholic belief of purgatory. I’m of the belief that we are reunited with loved ones after death, based on Jesus’ word to the thief hanging next to Him, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.” (Luke 23:43) and reference to a natural body and a spiritual body:

“So will it be with the resurrection of the dead. The body that is sown is perishable, it is raised imperishable; it is sown in dishonor, it is raised in glory; it is sown in weakness, it is raised in power; it is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body. If there is a natural body, there is also a spiritual body.” (1 Corinthians 15:42-44).

Is Nick okay? I believe he is. I’ve told you about the dreams I had and the dream his best friend had. I believe his soul is intertwined with those who have passed before. I feel they are close, but the veil of death prevents us from seeing.

The loss of a child upsets the balance of nature. Dogs have short life spans. Parents are supposed to die first. But the truth is that death does not discriminate. Your time on earth is finite. How you use that time matters. It matters to the One who created you for this purpose, be it serving others or allowing your creativity to blossom. Are you going to waste it by wrapping a cloak of self-pity around you? Who are you? Do you conduct your life with integrity or do you take advantage of friends or family, determined to have the upper hand? Do you build or destroy the soul of others? Do you cheat God or celebrate the creation that is uniquely you in the way you choose to live your life?

I am very kind to myself these days and my viewpoint has a new perspective to it. The temptation to withdraw is great in the grief process. I needed a lot of quiet time. But I also knew that I had to balance that time making connections, so I returned to writing web pages for lawyers and doing office work for our business and tying up the loose ends of Nick’s life. I will miss Nicholas for the rest of my life. When I am alone, I sometimes just cry out, “My baby boy is gone!” It is always there, just below the surface.

I was told that 80% of couples who experience the death of a child break up. Early on in this process called “grieving”, my husband and I made a pact: no matter what we learned, we would not allow it to separate us. We were a team. Nobody else could outrank us. What we shared or did not share would be decided by us and us alone. We both agreed that we did everything we knew to do and if we made mistakes, it was not intentional. No one is to blame.

We still have two living sons who need us as much as we need them. So we are now working on picking ourselves back up and learning how to celebrate what we still have, and that, my friends, is a LOT.

So I face the storms, riding them out, one by one: the major multi-church 111Project dinner (125 people!), the refinance of the house, and other necessary duties, done, done, and done as more obligations pop up. We’ll be slipping away next week, first to Topsail Island, NC, then on Rockport, MA to see Step Mom and reconnect with childhood friends. It is a part of the process of healing.

Nick was a lively, fun-loving, big-hearted guy. He spun out of control for a while, but had found his way back in the end. Even his death has given us a gift: greater awareness of thyroid disorders. It was my honor to be his mother. And now I’ve written it all down. It required an entire box of Kleenex.

“- But yet, continued Gabriel, his voice falling into a softer inflection, there are always in gatherings such as this, sadder thoughts that will recur to our minds: thoughts of past, of youth, of changes, of absent faces that we miss here tonight. Our path through life is strewn with many such sad memories: and were we to brood upon them always we could not find the heart to go on bravely with our work among the living. We have all of us living duties and living affections which claim, and rightly claim, our strenuous endeavors.
- Therefore, I will not linger on the past. I will not let any gloomy moralizing intrude upon us here tonight. Here we are gathered together for a brief moment from the bustle and rush of everyday routine.”
James Joyce, Dubliners

1 Corinthians 15:55New International Version (NIV)
“Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?”


Last updated September 06, 2015


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