Different Griefs – Losing a Child, Losing a Mother

Isabella’s death irrevocably changed the way that I understand and view loss. Not just her death, but my thoughts on death in general including that of grandparents and parents. After she died, my husband and I frequently discussed how losing a child was changing our perspective of losing a parent. While we all recognize that death is the enemy, there is a visceral recognition that burying a child is wrong and in no circumstances are we supposed to outlive our children. On the other hand, we expect to bury our parents. Burying a parent while still a child is a tragedy because children need their parents. Yet as adults, we anticipate someday standing beside our parent’s grave.

Losing a child and losing a parent were both hard. But one was expected, although the timing and method was a shock. After losing a child, I recognize the grace that in burying my mom, she did not have to bury us. Anytime adult children bury their parents, it means that mother or father did not have the agony of organizing their own child’s funeral.

Every day I miss both Isabella and Mom. And the griefs are different. The death of a child is the loss of dreams before they can be realized. Dreams of firsts – tooth, step, laugh, cut, day of school, driver’s license – and dreams for their life apart from you – first day of college, apartments, career, their kids. It is a loss of innocence and a brutal introduction to the fact that nothing is guaranteed. The mom friendships I expected to develop while our kids parallel played will not happen with Isabella. It is the death of a piece of myself and the future.

The death of a parent is the loss of the past and the sorrow for future events they will never share. It’s mourning the conversations you’ll never have, the triumphs and pains you cannot tell them about. It is also the abrupt exit of the person who has known you since before you were born, who knows what you were like as a child, remembers your firsts, and loved you unconditionally. It is the recognition that no new memories will be formed. Whatever unresolved issues existed will remain that way. Unsaid words will remain unsaid.

I’m grateful I had over thirty years with Mom. She watched my firsts, held me through joys and tears, and knew me as an adult. By God’s grace and intentionality in my relationship with Mom, I have no regrets. I miss her and I will see her again. My heart aches, but it was not shattered with her death as it was with Isabella’s.

My husband and I daily pray to be spared tragedy for a while. We also pray that we will bury our parents, for we do not want them to bury any of their kids. Will our hearts hurt when they die? Yes, I’m sure they will. And we will rejoice for the decades of shared life.

Another daily prayer is that we will never bury another child. Coinciding with that is the prayer that our children will bury us, many decades in the future.