As I open the new 2012 calendar I purchased at the mall, I think about where I have been and where I am going. Is my life what I thought it would be?
Absolutely not! Not since the death of my 20-year-old son, Clint, 6 1/2 years ago. After Clint died, I knew I wanted to find some way to make a good life for my family and myself. I was not sure how we would get to our new normal, but that was the goal. Many times I have asked myself the phrase many moms and dads have heard on road trips, “Are we there yet?”
The heavy weight from the early years has lifted and I even experience moments of joy. Days and even weeks can roll by when all of a sudden something sparks those precious memories and the tumble begins. The bad days return and I wonder, “Are we there yet?”
Where is this place for which I strive? Where is there? Do I put too much pressure on myself when I wonder why I am not there? Maybe I do. Maybe I need to relax and just be. Be what the moment brings. Accept that I am where I am. Some days will be good and some days will be full of sorrow.
Maybe there is a place in my heart that holds all my memories, the happy ones and the sad ones. For the new year of 2012, I will continue to strive for my new normal and to find ways to process the loss of our son. I will stop putting pressure on myself to reach a certain point, and instead accept that my new normal will be made up of many moments.
Written in memory of my son, Clint.
Debra Reagan 2011
Debra, I am so sorry for your loss. Though our children were different ages when they died, your son at 20, my daughter at 45, we have common thoughts. More than four years have passed since my daughter died, yet grief can still catch me unawares. Two decisions have helped me immensely. One is something I call Action Memorials. I focus on some of my daughter’s positive traits and make them part of my life. For example, my daughter had a marvelous sense of humor, so I gave myself permission to laugh more. In 2012 I have decided to focus on decisions that would make my daughter proud. Like Action Memorials, this keeps my daughter in my life. You and I are both here, alive, and I think we should make the most of each moment.
Harriet,
Thank you for your words of comfort and encouragement. I am sorry about the death of your daughter. The age of the children does not matter to a mom’s heart. They were and will always be our children.
I think your idea of Action Memorials sounds like a wonderful way of honoring your daughter’s life. I would love to hear more about it. Our children will live on in memory through us and others that love them.
Gentle Hugs,
Debra Reagan
I am glad both of you can do wonderful things for your daughter and son. My son Travis died march 17th 2009 he was 26. A wonderful person my only son. I have done many things in memory of my son. Nothing helps it still hurts and will hurt until my death. Your parents die you lose your past, your child dies you lose your furture. I don’t think the pain ever goes away from losing your child. Somedays you just do better. My smiles are not the same and how can they be. Death is forever and they are not here for you to love and worry about. They will be no wedding or grandchildren. What is so great about all of that.
Diana,
I am so very sorry about the death of your precious son, Travis. You are so right. There are times during this grief journey that nothing seems to help. Our children are gone and all we want is to turn back the clock and be with them. It has been 6.5 years for me and I can say that now I have the energy to re-invest into a new normal. My heart still hurts for Clint and I long to see him again, but the weight isn’t so heavy now. I can picture my Clint’s sweet smile and imagine him encouraging me to be happy. I will never be the same person I was before Clint’s death, but now I can say that I have small moments of real joy. It may be joy just inches away from sadness, but now days I will take my joy anyway I can get it. It has helped me to get together with other bereaved moms from time to time. You and Travis will be in my thoughts. Thank you for sharing with me. Hugs, Debra