I’m sorry if I’m not sad enough for you….
Dear Stranger,
I want to start by saying that I truly love my job, nothing will ever change that. I love waking up every morning to do something I love, to be creative, to make memories and most of all to spend time with the family I waited for such a long time to have. I am so grateful to have been able to share our journey with others, to make some wonderful friends along the way, receive such incredible support, and know that there is such kindness in the world at the times we have needed it the most. And I hope you feel the same way about your job, I really do.
But every so often I am reminded of the downside when others feel the need to message me and comment on my life style or my parenting skills, on the paid promotions I do to support my family, or to cast judgement on the decisions I make for the benefit of my children. And most of the time I will shrug off those comments without a second thought, reminding myself that negativity often comes from a place of sadness, or jealously, and I will try to sympathise with those who feel the need to be deliberately hurtful. And yet sometimes those comments will strike a chord, creeping into my thoughts in the early hours, causing me to pick apart my choices, to worry about the opinions of others, until eventually they start to eat away at me until I finally address them. And so here I am.
A few weeks ago you sent me a message on Instagram, a complete stranger to my family and I, to state that you were unfollowing me on my social channels. Now I am all for filling my Instagram feed with the things that make me happy, to learn more about the places I want to visit, to nosy around the the homes I aspire to (and yet know I never will…). I am all for scrolling through my social media feed and seeing positivity and support, to share in the highs and lows of the families I resonate with, to follow the people who lift me up rather than bring me down. But in all my years on Instagram, whenever I have chosen to unfollow an account, as we all so naturally do, I do it silently with no explanation needed, knowing that my personal reasons are always enough. And yet here was a message to tell me that not only were you unfollowing me but you went on to list your reasons so I knew, in no uncertain terms, that it it was purely because you felt I didn’t seem sad enough anymore that my son had died.
Now I’m not even sure where to start with that in all honesty, torn between feeling heartbroken that anyone would assume I was no longer sad at the death of my son, and complete and utter shock that someone could be so hurtful to even suggest it. And rightly or wrongly I allowed your comment to occupy my thoughts for far longer than you deserved, to make me question how others may view my role as a bereaved parent, almost fifteen years since the loss of my child. I allowed your throwaway comment to make me question whether I was letting down my son, that beautiful little baby who I would have given my whole world to take home and watch grow over the years, and then I no longer felt sad at all, just angry.
The truth is, perhaps I just wasn’t aware that others needed me to remind them of my grief quite so often? Perhaps I wrongly assumed that the fact I have to wake up every single day without my child was enough for others to see just how broken my heart is, for always? Perhaps I was naive enough to believe that the death of a child, at whatever age, in whatever circumstance, was enough to represent a whole lifetime of sadness and loss, without the end to say it out loud every second of every day?
It would be very easy for me to sit here now and tell you all the ways in which I am still so sad, to remind you that the things I share on social media are just a tiny snap shot of our lives together. It would be easy for me to tell you that although my arms are so very full in all of our happy smiling photographs, a piece of my heart will always feel empty, always wondering what if? It would be easy to sit here and try to justify my sadness, to quantify my grief in ways you could compare to others, or compare to yourself, but surely we can all agree that grief doesn’t work like that? There is no quota to fill, no measure of who is the saddest or who grieves for the longest, there is no definitive criteria to meet to prove your heartache or your sense of loss. And perhaps the truth is that I no longer feel the need to express just how sad I am at losing Joseph because it simply goes without saying that my life will always be filled with sadness now that my child has died.
But just know that when Joseph died and I hit rock bottom, when all I wanted to do was close my eyes and be with my baby, through those long lonely nights when I scrolled the internet looking for those in the same situation, I would have loved to find an account such as mine. I would have taken huge comfort in seeing a bereaved Mother with her arms so full and her smile so wide, to see the adventures they shared together and the life they had paved, to know that there was still so much hope of happiness ahead of me.
I would have given anything to be able to see into the future and know that this sadness wouldn’t be all consuming for always, that there would be so many more moments of joy and laughter and a reluctant but calm acceptance, to know that although this was not the life any of us had planned, it would still be a happy life none the less. I would have loved to read through our posts and scroll through our photos and see those beautiful little rainbows who brightened the very darkest of days, to imagine holding my own little ones in the future when my arms physically ached for that promise.
I would have loved to have found someone whose whole world had been turned upside down, in just the same way as mine, who had found a way to piece all of those shattered fragments of her heart back together again, however many cracks lay beneath the surface. I would have given anything to have hope that one day, there would be more good days ahead than bad.
And you know what? I’m glad that I don’t appear sad enough for you anymore. I’m glad that my smile hits my eyes and my laughter comes right from the belly, that I’m both mentally and physically stronger these days, that I don’t rely on a cocktail of drugs just to put one foot in front of the other to simply get through my day. I’m glad that I can talk about my son with love and with pride and share what an incredible honour it is to be his mummy, that I can look at his siblings and feel so completely grateful for the healthy children in my arms without solely feeling sadness for the one who is missing. I’m glad that our lives are so full and so fuelled by love and happiness and adventure, that we do everything in our power to live a wonderful happy life for the seven of us.
I’m glad that I don’t appear sad enough for you anymore, because the son I knew, and the son I love and honour every second of every day, would want nothing but happiness for all of us, I’m sure of it.
Please be kind, to yourself and others,
Joseph’s Mummy, always.
x
good for you! how dare they even comment on how sad you are expected to be after losing a child, no-one can even begin to understand what the pain is like to endure the loss of a child, and to live with the daily guilt knowing we are alive yet they are not! No-one knows what lies underneath the mask we wear for the world as our grief makes them feel so uncomfortable, we shield them from our suffering, we are not looking for pity, merely an understanding of how fractured our hearts are living every day without our child. So many have said “I don’t know how you coped” and I always reply “I did not have a choice!” we have to continue our life but they are always with us, in every breath we take, in every second of every day, cherishing every precious moment as we realise how it can be snatched away at any moment and do not take a single minute with our loved ones for granted! How dare they judge us, we have gone through more pain than most can even endure, so goodbye and good riddance to that thoughtless person.
Thank you Maria, I really appreciate your comment and your support with this. I hope those who feel the same way as the lady in question find this post and read these comments and learn a little about compassion and loss. Lots of love to you. xxx
Dear Stranger with an open heart,
As someone who has felt immense loss, I applaud you for being so open. You are right, someday, the right person will read this and it will help them on their own healing journey.
I do, however, want to return your power to you, because your personal grief should NEVER have to be explained to anyone or compared to anyone else’s, it is our grief and it is personally unique to us.
This was beautifully written and I wish you all the best!
Thank you so much for your comment, I really appreciate it. I would never dream of questioning another persons grief, as you say it is such a unique and personal experience! Joseph would be fifteen this July and I have had a long time to learn to live with this sadness in a way which still allows for us to live a happy life together. The internet can be a strange place at time but then there is so much kindness and support out there too, I really do appreciate that. xx
Wow – you hit the nail on the head. We live for them and they are in our hearts always. I am sorry someone felt the need to do that to you. What they did is no reflection on you but the result of their own issues and insecurities. Your grief is your own and you do not need to share it unless you want to or need to. Sending love xxx
Thank you so much, it did take me by surprise but I found it very therapeutic to write this post. We honour Joseph with our happiness every single day and although there is still so much sadness he can’t share our lives with us, he is never forgotten that’s for sure. xx
Whoever wrote that doesn’t understand that courage is invisible.
I love dipping into your blog, reading your posts and seeing photos of your lovely family. Keep up the good work. x
Thank you so much, I really appreciate that. xxx
Wow, so sorry to hear that a stranger was so mean, judgemental and thoughtless to you. My mum lost two children in infancy and I would be infuriated if anyone dared to judge her for being happy and enjoying life despite her sadness that will always be a part of her. Grief is such a personal thing and no-one should ever judge someone on how happy or sad they think you should act/be and if you choose or choose not to talk about it… I completely agree that your son would absolutely want you to live a life full of joy and happiness (and ignore the haters)
Thank you so much. I’m so sorry your mum lost her children, that must have been incredibly hard for her and still is I am sure. I think Joseph would be very proud of us for the way we have found happiness, both his Dad and I separately and together, and would be so glad that I went on to have more children who love and honour him every single day. He is such a HUGE part of our family, I’m sad if that doesn’t come across, but those who have compassion and understanding will never need reminding of our sadness. Thank you again. xxx
As per I put on your Facebook post I will state the same for anyone who reads here and I hope the person does
💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖
OMG! They are the one with the problem. Not you! No one but no one has the right to judge you on how you grieve
I haven’t lost a child, though it came close when we finally got a diagnosis of Bipolar for my 2nd son. We nearly had to lose him to get what was wrong with him diagnosed. I’ve also had two miscarriages.
I lost my husband, best friend and soul mate 3 years ago. I can only think of one thing worse and you know what that is. You are living it daily.
I had some crazy stuff said to me but what’s been said to you is beyond crazy.
It says more about her, than you. The person is a nasty piece of work. To say that to someone who has lost anyone let alone a child is utterly beneath contempt.
“Don’t judge anyone until you have walked a mile in their shoes” would be my reply to her.
How the hell does she know what you go through everyday! How does she know how you are and feel. She doesn’t know you and feels the right to do this.
Oh boy! She is to be polite a very unwell person to even think of sending such a message.
Apart from anything else you wouldn’t have a successful blog/business if you went around living in the problem of the loss of your son all the time. People would tire of it. Your not here to advertise your grief either for the whole world to see.
It would not be honouring your son to do that. People don’t seem to realise grief lasts a lifetime.
I say this when asked how long I will grieve my husband? I ask a question back with “How long will I love him?”
They shrug and say “All your life”
“Correct” I reply ” Love and grief becomes companions” grief is the limp you get used too.
It doesn’t get better. It gets different. You will love and cherish your son all the days of your life findung ways to include him naturally in your life in spirit.
I have, not that you need me to say it, however I will, much respect for your dignity, grace and honouring of your family, even though we have never met
With much love 💘 x
Thank you so much for sharing this here too. I hope anyone who feels the same way as this lady reads this post and sees your comment and learns a little more about the nature of grief. Thank you again, your comment really helped me. xxx
Sending hugs, some people just don`t get the sorrow of the dagger through your heart every day when you lose a child. Take care.
Thank you so much. I think those who have lost a child know too well that the pain lasts forever, even when we carry it so well and we may appear to have moved on. It never goes away. Lots of love. xx
How dare someone judge the degree of grief that you or anyone else is or is not visibly demonstrating?
Thank heavens they have unfollowed you – much better off without them!