Wednesday's Woe - Child-Loss Grief Compounds with Unresolved Childhood Pain ~Tommy Prince

Wednesday's Woe

Child-Loss Grief Compounds 

with 

Unresolved Childhood Pain

~Tommy Prince

Now that the double doors have been thrown wide open with my Child-Loss Grief, childhood pain spots a weakness in the surface through which it can gush, screaming, 

"Me, too! Me, too!"

All my pain ~ every bit of it ~ now screams for relief...

~Tommy

Wednesday's Woe - Emotional Dodgeball ~Tommy Prince

Wednesday's Woe

Emotional Dodgeball

~Tommy Prince

.

Nothing can get in the way of a joyful reunion in running into an old acquaintance as hearing the question, 

"So, how many children do y'all have?" 

"Three," I said.

"I guess they're all grown?"

(Short Answer) "Yes."

(Inside, I'm dying, pleading, Please Don't Ask Anything Else About Our Children!)

I immediately default to, "We have a wonderful grand baby," which then leads her and her husband  into telling how proud they are of their grandchildren. 

Then five, ten minutes later, by not encouraging her to keep talking about her grandchildren, the empty space was again filled with the dreaded question of,

"So how old are your children… they're grown?" 

Angie clued in to my sudden speechlessness and quickly said, "Yes, they're grown now."

Emotionally, I felt I was in the middle of a dodge-ball game, and I kept getting knocked in the stomach with a ball.

So I defaulted again to stories about our grandchild, which opened the door for her and her husband to tell stories about their grandchildren...

The context was that of being in the middle of a waiting room of a doctor's office, and running into this family whom we had not seen for over fifteen years, so it became obvious very quickly from their questions that they had no idea we had lost Merry Katherine. 

Her husband was in bad shape medically so we knew he did not need to hear any bad news, and I was about to find out what kind of shape I was in medically, so I knew I didn't need to get into anything painful either… 

I've experienced that conundrum many times where in sharing about Merry Katherine, it opens me wide up emotionally and I am then extremely vulnerable. 

I knew this was not the time nor the place for that conversation. But it surprised me, almost seven years into having lived with Merry Katherine's death, I felt so blind-sided that I essentially stumbled through that whole interaction as if I were totally unprepared for it. 

So much for "Time Helps"… We were taken back to square one in no time at all.

Graphics, thanks to Google Images

Wednesday's Woe - The Little Engine that Couldn't... ~Tommy Prince

Wednesday's Woe

The Little Engine that Couldn't...

~Tommy Prince

You've heard of the little engine that could; now we've become the little engine that couldn't. Instead of being like the little engine that could, as bereaved parents, we rather feel like a complete train wreck! In the child's storybook, the message to children is, the little engine thought he couldn't, but when he learned to say, "I think I can; I think I can," he gained the courage to push through and overcome his weakness.

But as one father on a forensics show said tonight, 

"My daughter was killed instantly, but ever since, I have been dying a slow death." 

In the bereaved and traumatized state that we find ourselves in, the brain fools us: we think we can go to a party, or we think we can go to a celebration of some kind, as if we are saying "I think I can, I think I can…" But many times we haven't been able to pull it off. And so, we just have to face our "new reality" that our internal train wreck is still in shambles… So now we are back to  saying, "I thought I could, I thought I could…!"

Images, thanks to Amazon.com and Google Images

Wednesday's Woe - The "Take-Away" of the Special Day ~Tommy Prince

Wednesday's Woe

The "Take-Away" of the Special Day

~Tommy Prince

We learned in math, that in subtraction, 

five "take-away" one equals four, 

or 

five minus one equals four, 

or  

"5 - 1 = 4." 

So, 

5 members of a family minus 1 member of the family = a family of 4. 

But in our case of Child-Loss, it feels more like 

5 take away 1 = "Forever Suffering…"

Having come through this weekend of the Father's Day holiday, in which the focus is on a father and his relationship with his children, I notice that no matter how much I try to delight in, or enjoy, the day, I always end up experiencing more of a "take-away" feeling. I cannot seem to "enjoy" the day, as 

the one "take-away" overwhelms the four remainder, 

so that 

the one is "greater than" the four

Or 

"1 > 4" 

in math terminology, which destroys the whole logic of mathematics. That shouldn't be surprising as the whole order of our family has been shattered as well. 

The sense of a "take-away" is heightened on these special days. No matter how much Angie and I try to be "up," the "take-away" brings us back "down." The "take-away" takes away the desire to even want to celebrate these days. Our hearts just won't do it; somehow our hearts want to mourn, not celebrate… We cannot get "up" because something's been "taken away," and our poor hearts and bodies know that all too well!  

On the surface, we can call them "Mother's Day," "Father's Day," or "Birthdays," but our hearts know they are really "Take-Away" days. 

The "take-away" overwhelms everything else. 

The one "take-away" is going to outnumber the four remaining here on this earth no matter the day, no matter the holiday, no matter how much we may try to "move on."

Playing on the titles of these child-story-books on math, it's as if our hearts continually plummet under death's "Action of Subtraction," and are daily longing for God's Ultimate Day when He performs His eternal "Mission of Addition," when our family will be restored to all of its members, and once again, the sum of its parts will be greater than the whole.

Pictures, thanks to Amazon.com 

Wednesday's Woe - Dream Sapper ~Tommy Prince

Wednesday's Woe

Dream Sapper

~Tommy Prince

I dreamed about Merry Katherine this morning… I don't know exactly what I dreamed. But it takes something out of me, like I'm moving through the day as though I'm walking through molasses. Whatever edge I felt I had is gone. There is a dullness about everything, my thought process, my energy level; it's like the dream has sapped away whatever energy I had been using to barely function. 

In my dream, I am thrilled that there is contact with her, but then there's the "Oh no!" of the harsh reality that I awaken to. It doesn't totally knock me back like it used to; used to, it would take me days to recover from such a dream. But now, it just brings on a heavy dullness. It opens up, or it peels back, the veneer of normalcy, such that the sadness that is always there rises to the surface.

Graphics, thanks to ~Inspirational Quotes to Live and Learn

Wednesday's Woe - When You "See" Her... But It's Not Her ~Tommy Prince

Wednesday's Woe

When You "See" Her... But It's Not Her 

~Tommy Prince

What do you do when you see your daughter's walk, you see her hair, you see her clothes, but it's not her? Yesterday, I saw a girl who from behind was Merry Katherine. I never saw her from the front. Before when that would happen I was so raw I would almost collapse in the store; I would be overwhelmed with a tsunami wave of grief and barely would be able to make it back to the car. 

Interestingly, this time, it was a little different; coming up on the seventh year, it is a little different. I found myself wanting to follow her through the produce; it gave me a little lift ~ oh yeah, that's what she looks like. I guess my defenses are working better because instead of feeling like I was going to lose it, when I noticed a little welling up begin, I was able to break away as soon as I got to the carrots. I was surprised at how much better I dealt with it. 

It was more like a sense of relief that I was able to get a little glimpse of her, and I didn't feel like it was going to devastate me for the next three days. But then again, I'm glad I don't know what she looked like…

~Journey of the Survivor (From Grief to Survival)

The first time we experienced this phenomenon, Angie and I were first taking our walk down the beach after sundown, when a young lady walked past us, a little closer to the ocean than we were. At first Angie didn't notice her, but I told her to turn around and see, and when she did, she mostly could see her long curly hair that was almost the same texture and color as Merry Katherine's. Then we both about fell down in grief. It was in October, just two months after the day our baby had been killed. It was the same beach she had walked many times, and it all just felt so normal and real. It was in the evening, right at dusk and I just cried uncontrollably, but was glad no one but Angie could see. It was instant, and there was no controlling it. Of course, Angie had her own share of tears streaming down as well…

~Julia's Creations

Maya Angelou quote, thanks to ~Out of the Ashes

Wednesday's Woe - Give Us This Day Our Daily Dread? ~Tommy Prince

Wednesday's Woe

Give Us This Day Our Daily Dread?

~Tommy Prince

Merry Katherine's Birthday. Easter. Our Anniversary. My Mother's Death Day… All of these events hit, terribly close together, and we all have had a particularly bad time. There has been no reprieve from one thing to the next. You think you're in the clear for awhile. You're looking for a break, and then you realize that right around the corner is Mother's Day, and then it's Father's Day.

We tend to cope by saying, 

"If I can just get through this, I'll be okay." 

Then we realize there's another tumultuous event just a few weeks away.

Instead of looking forward to celebrating a special occasion, it's looked upon now with a sense of dread… More events, more holidays we can barely tolerate. And this, on top of our already horrendous daily grief…

It's like there's no real break between these seasons, so we find ourselves living amidst an interminable sense of dread...

Wednesday's Woe - Where O Where Did My Good Friends Go? ~Tommy Prince

Wednesday's Woe

Where O Where Did My Good Friends Go?

~Tommy Prince

I called a good friend this weekend, and I ended up going over to his house for a visit over a hunting opportunity we needed to discuss. The last time I saw him was at a Christmas dinner with friends. Which was great, except that the last time I saw him before that was two years ago at another Christmas dinner with friends… It is very unusual for me not to see this good friend as over the years we had pretty much stayed in contact, but I knew he had been very busy with his business and his teenaged children, so I wasn't too worried. 

But he had been one of the few that had kept up with me during that first year of my grief. We would go to lunch together fairly routinely, and he didn't seem to mind asking the hard questions… like, "How are you really doing?" and that was always nice. But it seemed like after the one-year mark hit, he fell off the face of the earth. I chalked it up to his busy-ness, and went on with my life, uh grief, uh life of grief. 

His family was not at home when I went to see him this weekend, so we were able to have a nice visit and even got past all the joking after awhile and entered into some serious talk. He began apologizing to me (which is totally out of character for this cut-up kind of guy) that he has not kept in contact with me any more than he has. His words were something to the effect, 

"I haven't been able to call you --- I've wanted to, but I just haven't known how to comfort you." 

Later on in the conversation however, he admitted, as he is a very honest guy, that 

I really do represent "the unimaginable" to him... 

(as his children are nearing the age that Merry Katherine was when she was killed). 

I reassured him, and pretty much responded to him, 

"To a Child-Loss griever, minimal contact is best. Anything more really feels too intrusive. 

"All I need from you is just an occasional pat on the head  and a little scratch behind my left ear."

Picture, thanks to ~Deeper than Tears: Promises of Comfort and Hope by Terri Gibbs

Friday's Faith - Faith in the Reunion on the Far Side ~Tommy Prince

Safe in God's Keeping

I am Home in Heaven, dear

ones. Oh! so happy and so bright,

There is perfect joy and beauty 

In this Everlasting Light.

All the pain and grief are over,

Every restless yearning past;

I am now at peace forever,

Safely Home in Heaven at last.

Dear ones, do not grieve so

sorely. For I love you dearly

still; Try to look beyond earth's 

shadows. Pray to trust Our

Father's Will.

When your work is all completed

He will gently call you Home.

Oh! the rapture of that meeting! 

Oh! the joy to see you come!

Friday's Faith

Faith in the Reunion on the Far Side

~Tommy Prince

Today, I found out my uncle died. I began to think, he's up there with his daughter, his sister (my mother), his brother, his mother, and his dad. I began to realize the reunion on the Other Side gets larger as time goes on than the family reunions here… My grandparents on both sides, both of my parents, several uncles from both sides, and a cousin have gone on now.

I am looking forward to that reunion with family, but as a father who's lost his baby, nothing compares to the longing for that reunion I'll have with my "baby girl," Merry Katherine. 

I am so thankful for the faith and hope that there will be such a Great Reunion on the Far Side some bright day...

Picture, thanks to ~Journey of the Survivor

Wednesday's Woe - The Eyes of a Bereaved Parent ~Tommy Prince

..........I'm Always Under the Weather When You're Away…

Wednesday's Woe

The Eyes of a Bereaved Parent

~Tommy Prince

We don't see things the way we used to since our child died. 

Child-Loss Grief changes the way we see things. 

Our perspective changes.

..........Our values are challenged...

We have an advantage over the general population because now we know what's really important. 

I caught a glimpse of my face in one of those ipads my son had zeroed in on me; I was surprised at how sad my eyes look. You remember the precious-moments figurines? 

There's a precious moments figurine's expression that's permanently etched on my face...

The brightness is gone. 

..........You were Daddy's Little Sunshine…

It went with her. 

..........You Are Always in My Heart…

I can feel the brightness return momentarily when I see my granddaughter Ellie, 

..........but then it's gone...

Then the precious moments figurine look comes back. 

..........Merry Katherine, 

..............................Baby Girl, 

........................................You Hold the Key to Daddy's Heart… 

Pictures, thanks to www.preciousmoments.com 
Poem - Valentine's Poem to My Daughter in Heaven - Tommy Prince - 02/12/2013

Wednesday's Woe - Looking for the Dead Among the Living ~Tommy Prince

Wednesday's Woe

Looking for the Dead Among the Living

~Tommy Prince

"Oh yeah, I forget I'm not the person I used to be. Oh yeah, I forget that I'll never be the same!"

Driving along yesterday, I realized there's always that invisible river of grief that always flows underneath the surface of my consciousness…

Putting together several good days in a row of feeling good, it's like it fools my system into thinking, "I can still run and jump as high as I used to! I'm feeling pretty good today." This level of denial of my true reality told on me when I was out running errands amidst my "sense-of-well-being" stupor…

I was approaching a traffic light at an intersection, when I looked directly across the intersection and saw a little red truck just like Merry Katherine's and my first thought was,

"Oh yeah, there she is!!!"

(Six years now, and that terrible reality that she's gone still does not fully register in my being.)

That was my immediate response of delight, which just as quickly crushed me in the opposite direction as my hopes were dashed. My system seems to keep looking for the dead among the living…

At the sepulchre when Mary was seeking our Lord's body, the angel confronted her by saying, "Why do you look for the living among the dead?" 

In contrast, I always seem to be looking for the dead among the living.

My own system betrayed me, and once again I was crushed. It seems I've got to live in this somewhat dissociated state to somehow tolerate the pain of her being gone. But then a trigger arises to startle me back into my reality and I realize, "Oh no! What am I living?! She's really not here, and I won't be 'running into her' ever again!!!"

That reality of my nineteen year old child really being gone is just too stark for a mind and heart to fully take it in…

~Journey of the Survivor (From Grief to Survival)

Graphics, thanks to

~Death of a Loved one; Quotes, Poems, and Resources

and
~Journey of the Survivor (From Grief to Survival)

Wednesday's Woe - Which Is More Cruel? ~Tommy Prince

Wednesday's Woe

Which Is More Cruel?

~Tommy Prince

It's come a time when we need to change out her bedroom…

Which is more cruel?

To leave her belongings out to ever remind you she's not here and each of those items could trigger you, or

To go through her things one by one, touching every item with its reminders of her: how she used them, read them, or wore them, etc. while she was here…with you…when life was normal?

Even if Plan B is the better option, good luck getting it done, and staying in one piece to do it.

Risk ~ if you leave belongings in place and you pass by them, you may or may not get triggered. But boxing her things up, having to touch all of her things guarantees you will get triggered…

Wiping tears and blowing your nose every few minutes slows you down, but you bear with that to get through.

The thing that got me was the high school graduation class tee-shirt with everybody's names on the back, and there was her name along with everybody else's …who are… all... still here…

Wednesday's Woe - Triggered Trauma, Triggered Trauma ~Tommy Prince

How We Survive

If we are fortunate, we are given a warning.

If not, there is only the sudden horror,

the wrench of being torn apart:

of being reminded that nothing is permanent,

not even the ones we love,

the ones our lives revolve around.

Life is a fragile affair.

We are all dancing on the edge of a precipice,

a dizzying cliff so high we can't see the bottom.

One by one, we lose those we love most 

into the dark ravine.

So we must cherish them without reservation.

Now. Today. This minute.

We will lose them or they will lose us someday.

This is certain.

There is no time for bickering.

And their loss will leave a great pit in our hearts:

a pit we struggle to avoid during the day and fall into at night.

Some, unable to accept this loss, 

unable to determine the worth of life without them,

jump into that black pit spiritually or physically,

hoping to find them there.

And some survive the shock, the denial, the horror, 

the bargaining, the barren empty aching, the unanswered prayers,

the sleepless nights when their breath is crushed

under the weight of silence and all that it means.

Somehow, some survive all that and,

like a flower opening after a storm, 

they slowly begin to remember

the one they lost in a different way…

The laughter, the irrepressible spirit, the generous heart,

the way their smile made them feel, 

the encouragement they gave even as their own dreams were dying.

We will still cry. 

We will always cry.

But with loving reflection 

more than hopeless longing. 

And that is how we survive.

That is how the story should end. 

That is how they would want it to be.

~Mark Rickerby

Wednesday's Woe

Triggered Trauma, 

Triggered Trauma

~Tommy Prince

Personally, what has happened when we have tried to watch the news about the December 14th tragedy on television, is... Triggered Trauma. We wanted to know what was going on, but we couldn't deal with the magnitude of what happened. 

It is too devastating to take in…

Just like it was too devastating hearing the police officer say that Merry Katherine was killed...

I couldn't function. I couldn't breathe. Everything slowed down. It felt like I had been hit with a stun gun. I couldn't take in the magnitude of what he was speaking. It was difficult to focus. I couldn't complete small tasks. And I was overcome with an overwhelming sense of sadness.

I am experiencing some of the same symptoms after hearing about the December 14th mass shooting. On a smaller scale, but still it has had a powerful impact on me...

I am undone. 

If it has impacted me like this, and I am far away from the location of the tragedy, as I think about the child-loss parents, the surviving children, the surviving staff, and the community around them, I cannot imagine what they are going through. 

But then again, unfortunately, I know something that they don't: 

They Have No Idea What They Are In For In The Days Ahead...

The media attempting to cover the trauma is doing a totally inadequate job of even coming close to capturing what all these victims are in for. The media can never communicate to the country at large (or the world for that matter) what these people are going to be facing in the coming days, months, years, and even lifetimes ahead.

But then again, some things are unspeakable...

Wednesday's Woe - "Look What You Can't Have!" ~Tommy Prince

Wednesday's Woe

"Look What You Can't Have!"

~Tommy Prince

Just before awakening this morning, I dreamed about Merry Katherine… Cruel and inhuman punishment. It's like going to a funeral over… and over… and over.

In the middle of the dream, what happens is, I am felling a sense of well-being. This is the way life is supposed to be… She is here---at home where she is supposed to be---just getting her things organized.

There's an abruptness to it when I wake up. It's like we've talked about before on the blog ~ It's like going to the starting blocks over and over and over… Revisiting that whole thing of, "She really isn't here anymore." And because of that abruptness, it takes me several days just to get back to the functioning level.

One of the many things Merry Katherine and I had in common was a love of good music. In the dream, we were just going through some c.d.s --- I found one that was hers.  

"Here, do you want to listen to this?"  

A normal occurrence that was so refreshing because it was so normal. 

I awaken only to discover I'm thrown back to Square One.

It's as though, like cancer, my trauma and pain goes into remission temporarily, and then it comes back out ~ with a vengeance.

It's like a 

"Gotcha! Look what you can't have!"

Like with Angie…  

She sat down yesterday to have her coffee, and the house was empty. Peace and Quiet. And all of a sudden, the grief surfaces, and eight kleenexes later, she's in a pile, in touch with the abject reality of missing her baby, all over again. (That is the state she was in as she wrote the poem she  put in yesterday's blog post.)

Just now, as she's writing this post, her tears are flowing again; the kleenex come back out. The unbearable pain surfaces as she relives the normalcy of having our baby "back" even as she hears the details of my dream. 

Again, the gut-wrenching tears flow, as if, like a mine-drilling, it's like the "oil" gushes up from the heart of her soul, as her heart and soul dredge up a tiny portion of their pain. . .

It's time to go back to bed. 

Oh wait, now the bed is not a sanctuary for me… Lately, just trying to get rest is the source of my pain!

Whether it's sitting down to the quiet, or having the space in your life to have dreams, it seems our grief will "out"… one way or another. This is a snapshot of grief at six years…

Wednesday's Woe - Avoiding the Blues While Playing the Blues... ~Tommy Prince

Wednesday's Woe

Avoiding the Blues While Playing the Blues...

~Tommy Prince

I find myself being guarded about tonight. I am in a new band and am having a great time playing with all professionals. In our blues band, we have two guitar players, a bass player, a keyboard player, and myself, the drummer; all of us are very experienced in club playing. I want to be excited about our first gig tonight, but… 

There is a guardedness about approaching things toward which I used to have such an ease.  

It's as though I've lost that comfort of knowing what to expect in situations, and even what to expect out of my own body and emotions. 

For example, tonight I go to play in a club for the first time in three years. The last time I played in a club, it was a disaster ~ That night turned out to be a night of horror, When I glanced outside the club's large window, I was triggered like crazy in seeing Merry Katherine everywhere. Inside the club, I looked around and saw Merry Katherine everywhere. I saw her sitting at tables. I saw her laughing with the crowds. I saw her on the sidewalk outside walking by the club. I saw her in line across the street, waiting to get into another club. Every teenager was my teenager. She was everywhere.

Then amidst being triggered, I was trying to somehow finish playing out the required sets so that I could go home and figure out what the hell just happened that I go and get traumatized over something that was supposed to be so enjoyable.

 Looking back, what I didn't know then… as we were just entering into our third year of grief...

 

THAT third year was to be the worst year of all for me of these six years of grief... 

So, will tonight be any different?

Wednesday's Woe Weeping and Gnashing ~Tommy Prince

Wednesday's Woe

Weeping and Gnashing

~Tommy Prince

Scripture's description of Hell...

"They will throw them into the fiery furnace, 

where there will be 

weeping and gnashing of teeth."

~Matthew 13:42

We survived Thanksgiving by being extremely low-key. Literally shutting all the doors, closing the curtains, and turning off all the phones. But, for a Child-Loss Griever, what happens when you have peace and quiet? Keep everybody away... and the grief surfaces. I didn't know how much until my nightmare yesterday morning… 

Hope for our daughter…

Emotionally, we were forever expending energy, trying to help her. Angie and I spent all our emotional, and much of our physical energy, trying to save her from herself...

“Last forever!' Who hasn't prayed that prayer? You were lucky to get it in the first place. The present is a freely given canvas. That it is constantly being ripped apart and washed downstream goes without saying.” 

~ Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek

The Nightmare that Never Goes Away…

I awakened yesterday morning from a nightmare. When I awakened from my nightmare, I didn't experience the typical response of, "Thank goodness that was a dream and not real life!" Usually my nightmares would consist of the typical, 

"I'm on a trip somewhere but I can never seem to find my destination; I am lost." 

Or, 

"I've got an exam coming up in a college class, but I haven't even studied for it." 

…so that, when I wake up, I can breathe a sigh of relief: 

"O, that was just a dream!"

But no. This time, I awakened, as I have over these past 6 years after her death, from a nightmare about her, to an internal scream of, 

"O Hell No!!!" 

And emotionally, I am a mess.

In my nightmare, she had been in some form of treatment, and was home on a pass, but a woman was here with her saying, "She's got to go back---there's a technicality not attended to, so she has to go back 'to fill out a form.'" I was furious. 

What A Cruel Joke:  

"She's here, but you can't have her."

I wake up, as I said, to my internal screams of  

 "O Hell No! 

"Having to live without her is a living nightmare!" 

It seems I've always got a simmering growl underneath the surface. I feel a constant tension in my jaw. Weeping and gnashing are going on all the time inside me at an unconscious level. 

Yes, I will go through the motions of life during my day, but…

My clumsiness tells on me…

High blood pressure tells on me…

Tension in my jaw tells on me…

Nightmares tell on me...

It's like at some deep level there is always weeping and gnashing going on in my heart and soul.

Perhaps this is really "the new normal" for Child-Loss Grievers, better defined as

"The New Hell-on-Earth Normal"! 

Everything in me, for some unexplainable reason, is trying to keep her alive and keep her home, but it's not working. 

My Life's Call: Keep my child alive. 

Mission: Failed.

Pictures - Top, Dark Sky, thanks to Grieving Mother, Nancy Tuz
Below, Climbing the Heavens, thanks to Grieving Mother, Darlene Thomas