Donna writes in: It’s been 7 months since my beautiful little boy was tragically run over by his father’s pickup truck. I have been to a therapist since, I’m in EMDR therapy since witnessing the trauma that followed, I take medication to ease my emotions. But yet, there is no friend, family or therapist who can help me ease my anger and stop blaming my husband for this accident.
My husband is a mess over this and is very fragile so we have only spoken briefly about my feelings, as I don’t want to kick him when he’s down. My therapist agrees. He really is a wonderful man. But he’s “spacey” in general. And to have a 4-year-old little boy in the driveway, and tell him to stand in a spot so he could pull his truck in is something incomprensible to me. He said he trusted him. And in a second’s time my world came crashing down. He was gone instantly. A little boy who loved everybody and loved life and is my heart and soul is gone. My family dynamics have changed. I have my beautiful 7 year old daughter who lost her best friend and brother, and I focus heavily on keeping her well adjusted, and she is.
I am not recovering from this at all and moving through. I still cry hysterically every day. I read spiritual books, grieving books and articles, I’ve tried yoga and meditation, and yet I can’t get beyond the hopeless feeling I have that the rest of my life is “ruined”. Forgiveness is such an easy word to say, but I can’t find it deep inside to stop feeling these negative feelings and “forgive”? Any response would be greatly appreciated.
Fred Luskin, author of Forgive for Good, responds: You forgive because you have no other choice. You forgive because you will never understand why your son is gone and so the only thing you can do is choose to live and love. No explanation will be enough….the only hope is to open your heart back up… You have already lost your son and do not want to lose your husband. That said, it will take time and know that forgiveness only is natural when grief has started to subside.
There is good research that suggests that grief is natural for a couple of years. Until then, have some compassion for both yourself and your husband…..his loss is as great as yours and he also has the almost impossible task of forgiving himself. When it is time to consider forgiveness, my book Forgive for Good may be of help to you….
best wishes,
Fred Luskin
Tags: grief, hope
I can relate to Donna’s ambivilence toward her husband in the aftermath of her son’s tragic and untimely death. In our case, our son died in a car crash at 19 years old. He was driving our van, and his 18 year old best friend died in the crash as well. Mike had hit a tree a few feet from our front yard while speeding home with his friend. The autopsy report revealed that our son
had been drinking. For many months, I was furious with my husband, and angry with myself. I felt that we had failed as parents. I felt that my husband had been too permissive with our son. My husband had often said, “he’s just a teenager–no different than any other, he’ll grow up someday.” “Tough love” was not in my husband’s vocabulary. In the first few months following Mike’s death, I needed an outlet for my anger. I needed to be able to talk about my feelings. I loved my husband, and I didn’t want to lose him. I knew that attempting to place all the blame on him would be destructive to the marriage, and I didn’t want that. When discussing with my husband my feelings of anger and my perception of who was responsible for our son’s demise, I found it helpful to preface my remarks with these words, “my perception of who is to blame is my problem, and not yours–it’s something that I need to work on for myself.” I was allowed to vent my thoughts and feelings, no matter how painful, without holding my husband responsible for the way I was thinking. I was, in effect, taking ownership of my thoughts and feelings, and it didn’t destroy the relationship. Eventually, I was able to give up the notion that my husband was to blame. I could forgive him, and myself, for my perceptions of blame and/or responsibility. My paradigm has shifted. Our marriage is still intact after seven years, and in many ways it is stronger than ever.