I never gave up.
In my darkest moments, this is important to remember on today, Bereaved Mother’s Day. Mothers, parents, grandparents, and siblings who have suffered through the unimaginable pain and loss will experience different stepping stones in their grief journey.
In my almost five years as a bereaved parent, I have faced other hardships, such as my husband, John’s, stage 3 colon cancer diagnosis. I am aware that some people wanted me to transform quicker into someone else I could not become. Bereaved parents, grandparents, and siblings are not transformers. We are all on different walks in our journey.
I have repeatedly written of what comes with being a bereaved parent, including:
- Loss of friends, (This is a given because you have changed, and some will leave you.)
- But you make new friends; some of whom you never expected,
- Loss of yourself,
- Dealing with how your spouse and any remaining children handle grief different from you, (My son and husband’s grief journeys are very different.)
- Finding new ways to deal. (For me, this involves gardening.)
Grief is not the deepest darkness where the wild things are, but the recognition of the greatest love. Our journey with grief may take us to the deepest darkness, but with support, we will not stay there.
I began packing away some of my daughter and son’s childhood books this weekend. I never thought I could do this. I kept a few out that stood out for special reasons to me. We ate out at seafood restaurant John’s father always loved, and we took the children when they were young. After we lost Corrie, I could not stand going back. We went on rare and special occasions.
Letting Go in a Different Way
I am not an expert, but I have struggled, especially in how to gradually let go of my other child. Our son, Hayes, is growing up, and will enter high school. He has struggled emotionally through middle school, in addition to his AuADHD diagnosis. John and I have often heard of what he cannot do.
I come in determined and battled scarred because I have had to fight as a parent for so long. He was all I had left after the world seemed to end.
Over the past month, something has happened. Hayes has shown growth in a good direction. He is already taller than me. I am 5’11.” One teacher truly ignited a spark in him, and I will never forget that as we head into Teacher Appreciation Week.
Hayes is the kind of student that if a teacher really digs in, helps him manages his behavior, and helps him grow, or they are never going to see eye-to-eye. Throughout elementary school, Hayes was blessed with amazing–and I mean the best–special education teachers and grade-level we could ask for. His two elementary schools set the bar high.
I remember his second and first time around third grade teacher calling John and I and said, “I know Corrie had a light in this world, but never forget the light Hayes has. It is bright and will shine.” I remembered this in my darkest times. I remembered how if we were experiencing some bad moments during middle school those words.
Now I owe so much to his drama teacher. My son was not the “main problem,” and he was not someone we were in a hurry to get out of the classroom. She gave him confidence and ambition.
“Hayes can’t read on grade level.”
This week, Hayes memorized a half-page monologue for his audition for High School Musical 2.
“Hayes can’t remember what we learned. His scores are low.”
Hayes memorized every line of not only that monologue, but the first verse and chorus of “Green Fields of France.”
Hayes’s drama teacher will remain my favorite teacher at our middle school. She is Teacher of the Year one hundred times over. She invested energy, and he found an activity to make him confidence. Drama fed into his imagination and desire to tell stories in beginning to write scripts seriously.
Hayes has started singing with just me in some lessons I have done with him. I grew up in musical theatre, and I originally majored in Voice Education in my first go-round during college. I got him to sing in his range with vocal warm ups, and I discovered we have something to work with.
Awakening
While I could not watch his audition, I felt proud of the practice that he and I had done together. I had said that I would not sing after Corrie graduated to heaven. Every so often, I’d sing in the cemetery, and while Hayes was ages 10 to 11, he asked me to sing still. With Hayes entering musical theatre for his interest in one day “making movies,” I put my fingers on a piano again.
I played the notes of “Do, Re, Me …” on the piano. I helped my son, whose voice is changing, learn to sing in a tenor tone. Between the gardens and Hayes finding his interests, we’re coming alive.
I know I will have to let him go in four years, and this is a different way of letting a child go, but at least, I get to see him grow.
Corrie's Season 