I don’t think anything much helps at first. You just somehow manage to find the strength to go on.
People may try to give you lots of advice. I know you need comfort, not advice. But I’m going to tell you some of the things I have gone through in the two months since my son’s journey to Heaven to be with Jesus. Maybe my experience can prepare you for some things.
I know asking “Why?” doesn’t help. I don’t think that question will be answered this side of Heaven (when it won’t even matter to me anymore). But I still keep asking “Why?”.
My mind tries to replay the last hours and moments of my son’s life over and over. I try my best to not to let my mind do that. That is the best and most practical thing I have learned to do to keep myself sane. I’ve lived through that hell once. I try to stop my mind from making me relive it over again.
I’m no longer surprised when people I thought would stand by us don’t. And I’m no longer surprised when people I never dreamed would stand by us do. And the creepy people in my life didn’t stop being creepy.
People don’t know what to say, because there IS nothing to say. So sometimes they say stupid, thoughtless things.
I know it’s OK for me to be angry at God. If someone ever tells me otherwise (no one has so far), I will turn my back on them. They don’t know what they’re talking about. How could I NOT be angry at God? I’m still angry at God, but I am gradually coming to understand that the anger will eventually go away if I let go of it. I also know that I can still pray even when I’m angry at God.
I am surrounded by a world that keeps reminding me of my son. It doesn’t matter where I am or who I’m with, there are always reminders and memories. I’ve learned not to lose it when I can see the memories coming. But I can’t always see them coming. And I lose it. Also, I still quite often think of something I want to show or say to my son. And then in an awful moment, I realize I can’t.
I still don’t know what to say when someone I don’t know asks me if I have children. “Yes, we have a daughter“? But do we still have a son? Should I say “We have a daughter but lost a son“? Do people WANT to hear that? (Answer: No.)
The question my wife hates the most is “do you have other children?” Each child is irreplaceable. Ryan didn’t have a “back up.”
Is my grief getting less intense? No. But it comes less often.
The day after my son’s death my wife woke up with the strangest scripture in her mind:
“Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal; but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” Matthew 6:19-21
All I could tell her was that one of our dearest treasures was now in Heaven. That’s true now for you and you wife as well.
I don’t think this will help you now. Come back in a few weeks. Maybe it will help some then.
I shall pass this along to my folks. Time doesn't heal all wounds, it's true.
Thank you, Semi Civil Servant. I have learned a lot from you and Siobhan this day. I am so grateful there were those who did have words so full of faith and charity and hope as to serve OxfordMovement long past this, the saddest day of his life.
I'm so sorry about your son and shall pray for you too.