John French

My name is John French. I was born in January of 1968. I own and operate a small remodeling company in Highland, MI. My wife Michelle and I married very young and we celebrated our 20th anniversary in May of 2009. We had two amazing children: Veronica, who is 20, and Brandon, who was 17. We worked very hard to build a life that would afford us the luxury of giving them all the things we never had, including a stable home, committed loving parents and every material thing imaginable (within the means of a middle class family, I should add). Over the last few years, it seemed we had finally arrived, and living was easy. Then Brandon passed away in August of 2009 from an undiagnosed heart condition. The devastation of that one single moment has crushed our view of reality and cast us down into a state of perpetual winter. I’ve been writing all my life, though not publically. Brandon’s death has so overwhelmed me that I can no longer contain my thoughts. Although my stance is undermined by despair, and frosted by the bitterness that follows the loss of my son, I will labor to plant some seeds of promise in the barren future that I'm so unexpectedly tilling. Perhaps something beneficial will stem from my mourning. If you can gather even a grain of hope from my reaping, it may help to sustain you through your own emotional storm.

Articles:

Winter Without Son is Lusterless

When your child dies, the holidays quickly lose their luster. The entire spectrum of lights is muted to a dull gray, while the endless barrage of seasonal music only brings out the blues. When you combine that with freezing temperatures and the whirlwind of activities, it can lead to treacherous living conditions. Additionally, a string of silent nights bring neither comfort nor joy. I spend a tremendous amount of time and effort during the holidays trying to block out the past and ignore the present. Why? Because all the great memories reiterate how much I have lost. But without them, […]

Five Years After Son’s Death, Dad Wonders if ‘the Blue Skies are Coming’

As the weather finally begins to catch up with the seasons, I find myself looking back. Beyond the still blue waters and flowered meadows. Back to the time when the only contrast to the vast expanses of ice were the dirt streaked mountains of accumulated snow. When I think about this year’s record snowfall and sub zero temperatures I can not help but see the similarities between the brutality of winter and the unrelenting nature of grief. The bitterness and isolation, the amassing woe and the agony of every step. It will be five years in August since my […]

‘Splendor to Offset the Gloom’ – Even After Childloss

I miss my son, beyond imagining. Compounded by the memories that continue to amass. Additionally, the past has become a Menagerie. Expounded by moments that have already passed. As Time moves on, slow and emphatically. I can not bare to consider how long I might last. Because the loneliness is so immense, it is staggering. And the emptiness is exceedingly vast. It has been almost two years now since my son Brandon passed away. That in itself is confounding. In some ways, it seems like mere moments. In others, it has been an eternity. Grief is so overwhelming that it distorts my […]

In Barrens of Grief, Hope Still Blooms

Losing a child is like falling into a fathomless pit, a deep well of sorrow that leaves an enormous void in the center of life. One moment, you are on top of the world, an instant later you are plummeting into the deepest depths of despair. Tumbling like a stone into utter desolation. Where sorrow pours out in a cascade of memories and mixes with the deluge of tears. The pressures are immense, and the solitude is unbearable. Since my son Brandon’s death in August of 2009, I have been struggling to pull myself out of this dreadful hollow. But, […]

Poem: Music In Mourning

~~Music in Mourning~~ Oh how misery sings to me, in wailing moans of agony. With shrieks and groans as overtones, within a dismal symphony. And woe; it rings from somber strings, and echoes with the winds. It rumbles like a perpetual storm, amidst weeping violins. And lo, how confounding it can be. Deciphering tones that lack rhythm and flow, and trumpet the disharmony. And though, it plays for me alone, the constant mournful steady drone, is an endless tribute unto thee. John French 2011 =

Taking the Plunge to Honor Son

It has been a well over a year now since my life suddenly plunged into despair. Losing my son was devastating on every level, and life continues to spiral out of control. Every day, I fall a little further from the height of my elation. From those glorious days when I was on top of the world. Now, I struggle just to maintain my composure. There are days when I feel that I am regaining some stability, and moments when I plummet into a boundless despair. Everything seems so distant and distorted. I can’t look to the past or ponder […]

Despite Pain of Child-Loss, ‘Surrender is Beneath Me’

I am hastened into facing another day. Woken by the onslaught of my mourning. It is a struggle to keep the sorrow at bay, as it strikes me without warning. The terror impacts me the instant I wake. But I must keep fighting for sanity’s sake. Through the relentless oppression of laughter and song. To the constant regression as the war rages on. No source of shelter offers any relief, my only protection is the Armor of grief. In the daily battle with my emotions, I often feel overwhelmed. I find myself wallowing in the murky trenches of grief, at […]

Despite Spring Thaw, Bereaved Dad Feels the Cold

The wheel of time can spin sunshine into a frozen shroud, making the heart cold and weary and the eyes reluctant to look upon the day. As the spring begins to unfold, I can see how degraded the fabric of my life has become. It is unbelievably frayed; in fact, it is completely unraveled. I still have the yarns that attest to how amazing it used to be. Although they are just tiny fragments of a continuous strand, each vivid memory is a testament to life’s former grandeur, the grandeur that preceded my son’s death last summer. Today, I can barely […]

Child-Loss: When the Heavens Go Dark

Out beyond the silence of eternal night, within the void of voiceless echoes, between the folds of dark and light. In somber streams of starlight. In the waves of ebb and flow. Heaven exceeds eternal planes. Though, it remains closer then we know. There was a time when the stars were a great source of inspiration and contentment for me. Their slow, predictable progression seemed to calm some of the anxiety brought on by a chaotic world. The incomprehensible distances and incalculable numbers were a humbling reminder of my insignificance. While at the same time, the vastness and complexity made me […]

Taking a Rest on the Journey through Grief

Grief is an incredibly difficult venture, a monumental climb from the pit of despair. It is an absolutely exhausting venture that drains you physically and weighs heavy on your mind. As I look back on the months following my son’s death, I’ve come to realize that I haven’t moved at all. Even though others may perceive me to be progressing, my movement is lateral at best. As the span of time increases, it becomes more and more difficult to lift myself up. The days slip by, but the moments never escape me. The more I struggle to hold on, the […]

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