I shouldn't be happy.
As soon as the thought entered my mind, I felt frustrated and so burdened by my guilt. How could I enjoy something as trivial as this painting when my son lay buried in the ground? By the end of the day I was exhausted from running around town, and again my guilt attacked me.
How could you just go spend the day doing silly things like antiquing and stopping for Starbucks while your son is dead?
I fell asleep feeling very uneasy, and for days continued to wrestle with these emotions. Smiling and laughing felt (and sometimes still feels) so unnatural, almost wrong. Which that in itself isn't right - although it's okay to allow yourself to experience your emotions to their fullest, however it may look, it once again doesn't mean there's legitimate truth to what you're feeling. Feeling something and experiencing emotion is not always the truth of a situation. Yesterday's post is a prime example - I feel guilt over what happened to Emmett, but there's not anything I'm actually guilty of.
Each day that I've struggled with my guilt, I've also struggled with feeling nervous about what people would think of me doing "normal" things, or being happy. I thought I had conquered my fears of what people think, until I started walking through this process. Suddenly I found myself wondering what people would think of me if I chose to smile, or just be happy - would they think I'm "over it"? Would they wonder about what I had thought about, as in how could I allow myself to be happy while my son lay dead? It sounds silly, and to an outsider, or someone who has never walked this path, it seems like one of those things that we would want to respond with, "People would never think that/They're praying for you/They're hopeful for you/etc."
This week I was telling a friend how much I have had to fight my fear, and learn to let go of worrying about what people may think. I shared with her how there have been days when I have struggled with feeling okay about having joy. Isn't that sad? It feels pretty sad. What makes it even more sad is talking to all the other moms that I've met recently, who are walking the same lonely path of losing a child, and knowing that they struggle with it too. While it helps to know that there are other people out there struggling with the same guilt, it also makes me sad that we have to deal with it at all.
On the flip side of this process, when you're the one who is watching someone else go through a loss, you should rejoice with them when they have their good days. We shouldn't want someone to wallow and live in sadness - what kind of life could that even be considered? It's so easy to say, "I'm praying for you." It's so easy to have the "head knowledge" that we want people to be happy, but in the same instant, how often do we find ourselves thinking, "Why are they on vacation? Why are they smiling?" Before going through this loss, I looked at others occasionally and wondered how and why they were acting the way they were acting…go ahead and judge me for that. I was wrong to do that.
As far as feeling guilty about feeling normal goes, I believe it's an ongoing battle I will fight for awhile. Since I lost my son, and won't see him again on this side of eternity, I believe the hole he left in my heart will be a permanent aching reminder. This means that I will struggle with his absence, and do my best to find joy without him here. Although I will never forget him, I will try to keep moving forward. Each day, moment by moment, I will try to choose joy. When I feel guilty for feeling normal, I will remember that my "normal" is different now. My normal now includes the lifelong process of healing from one of the worst possible experiences I believe (and pray!) I will ever go through. Normal now includes missing my son daily, but trying to hold onto the hope that I have in knowing that I will see him again one day.
To those who are walking alongside of us who have gone through A Great and Terrible Loss (it just feels like it should be capitalized, go with me here), please be patient with us. Please don't judge us when you see us acting normal; understand that our normal has completely shifted, and we are learning to love, or maybe just endure it. When you see us laughing, laugh with us, and rejoice in knowing that we are giving ourselves the room to do so. When we cry two minutes after laughing, be gentle with us, and know that this emotional roller coaster we're on is not of our choosing, because if it were all up to us, we would have our babies and children in our arms. If it were up to us, we would have never had to walk the path of experiencing A Great and Terrible Loss.
To my fellow parents who have experienced A Great and Terrible Loss, let's choose joy together. Even though we're hurting, let us try to honor our children by choosing happiness, and allowing ourselves to live. Our children may be separated from us for a time, and while that hurts beyond belief, we can still choose joy. Doing so does not lessen our pain, nor does it cast it aside, but it allows us to truly honor our sons and daughters. For me, I know that had Emmett lived here, and grown up, he would not want me to walk in sadness. I know the same to be true for you too. Our children want us to be happy; they want us to feel joy. So let's do that - let's choose joy, let's discover our new normal, and let us do our best to learn to love it for what it is.
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