Learning to Live With Grief and Not Getting Consumed By It

When I lost my son four years ago, like all parents who lose a child, I thought I would never laugh or have a happy day in my life again.

The negative effects on your marriage are too many to count.

At first, you feel so much anger, and who better to take it out on than your spouse? You experience the devastation simultaneously. The urge to blame is irresistible. You try to make sense of it, but you just can't. That blame turns 360 degrees, and before you know it, you blame yourself. That's when the "if onlys" set in. If I had only done this or that, he'd still be alive.

Unlike physical illness, mental illness carries a stigma. How could my child not be helped when we took him to doctors, psychologists, AA meetings, and rehab facilities year after year? I could be wrong, but if he had died of cancer, I don't think the blame would be such a heavy burden to carry.

But time moves on, and you have to find a way to carry the grief without letting it consume you. That's the only conclusion my husband and I came to after months of suffering. We were still together, and we also had another adult child to parent. It wouldn't be fair to her if I just shriveled up and hid.

A year later, almost to the day, my daughter celebrated her wedding to a generous, loving man whom we adored from the get-go. She chose wisely, and that's such a great feeling. Maybe we weren't such bad parents after all.

I was worried I wouldn't be able to feel joyful during the planning process or that I'd be sad at the wedding itself, thinking my son wouldn't be there for the first big family occasion since his death. Add to that the thought that he would never experience marriage or parenthood himself. How sad for him. How sad for us.

I turned to therapy to help resolve my conflicting emotions. It helped a great deal by changing my perspective. Instead of feeling guilty about being happy for my daughter because my son was gone, I found a place for both emotions to coexist.

It wasn't all roses from there. For the first three years, we ran away every holiday, traveling to various destinations so we wouldn't have to sit at a holiday table by ourselves (my daughter was living abroad). We spent way too much money, but the diversions helped a great deal. I also did a bit of retail therapy and spent way too much money on that, too.

Four years later, we are expecting our first grandchild. New life, a rebirth of sorts. A chance to begin again. Excited would be an understatement for the joy I feel. No, Jack wouldn't be there to become an uncle. And that's sad. But at the same time, I know my heart can carry those opposing emotions. And that's just how life will be from here on out.