Sharing my mourning journey as my family learns to live a new normal after the death of my 19 y.o. son in an auto accident on 10/12/08.

Contortion

Jordan's Candle burning in remembrance

Jordan's Candle burning in remembrance

The death of your child twists your body, soul, life into an impossible shape and posture. People who have suffered the loss of a child can try to describe this pain to you. If you haven’t experienced the loss of someone dear then your typical responses are “I can’t imagine what you’re going through” or “I wouldn’t be able to make it, you are so strong”.  (Those responses were ones I felt and uttered out loud.) The truth is until you lose someone you love there is no way to understand how contorted your life becomes and just how much pain you can bear.

As impossible as it seems, there you are forced into pain, twisted into a body and mind-numbing position that you feel will last forever. Every time you try to untwist yourself it doesn’t work. All the sighing, the praying, the unconscious shaking of your head to clear your mind so you can figure out, “ How did I get to such an awful place, I’m in a nightmare? “ or “How could my child be gone?” No matter how hard you try, the questions of how and why don’t have acceptable answers.

The next step is to find a way to fix the situation. There has to be a way to relieve the pain. A way to get your life back the way it was before you felt shackled and twisted by pain and grief. You try, but nothing works. Busying yourself, pretending things are as they were doesn’t work. No mystical or magical tactics come to your aid that will unlock the secret to releasing the pain.  Denial fails every time. Avoidance of your new reality only leaves you at the end of the day with a racing mind and a heart so heavy that the ache threatens to push you over. “How did this happen?” “How can I get out of this awful position, this painful pose?”

Repeatedly you retrace, and don’t give up. You still keep trying because there has to be a way to undo what’s been done; even as a part of you whispers “there’s no going backwards” and further tries to reveal the energy you’re wasting on the impossible. You are stubborn and resolute. Going backwards has to be possible! Backwards is where the life you cherished is,and where all of your children lived safely. All you have to do is figure out how to turn back time and carefully free yourself of what has happened. That can’t be impossible. It has to be possible because you want things the way they were before your child’s death forced you into this awful, ugly, painful pose. You will figure it out. You have to make things right again.

Then, one day it happens; weariness sets in and you run out of ways of figuring out how to unclench, untangle, undo what has happened. There is the moment you realize that all the things you’ve tried don’t work because you’re trying to retrace your steps, go backward and somehow in reverse undo the torture that has contorted your life, your family, and your soul. A new strategy reveals itself. There is a way out of the pain and the numbness, but it means moving differently. It means believing that to untangle is not a backwards movement of retracing, but a forward movement of assuming a new design, a new normal. It is accepting that some parts will always feel a little twisted, will hurt and never be the same. Acknowledging that help will be needed to untwist and unclench what the contortion of death has imposed. As you slowly unclench and breathe, you recognize that this path is the way the pain will lessen.

You will always look back, but you begin to understand you can’t go back. All those days, months and yes sometimes years of being contorted have taken a toll. All the time spent trying to recapture and redo the past has changed you. Little by little the pain starts to subside. Almost against your will you unfold, stretch. You feel the laying on of hands that helps ease you out of your painful pose. You realize you’re still here and you have to say goodbye- As many times as you need to. You believe in the word eternal and you call out to your loved one everyday. I love you Jordan. You will always be my boy. I miss you. I love you.

Advertisements

Comments on: "Contortion" (5)

  1. Edna Williams said:

    Dear Jackie, as a mother who has been in your shoes, I do feel your pain. Talking about Jordan is one of the ways to release the heaviness of the heart. When Renee passed and I stayed in N.J. with th kids, I always expect Renee to come in about four o’clock. The reality of this not coming to fruition was like a stab in the heart. Although it has been almost eleven years, since we lost her I still have my days, when I cry.
    There is no special way one grieves for their love ones, so whatever gives you a sense of relief for the moment DO IT.
    Love You,
    Aunt Williams

    • alwaysmomof4 said:

      Thank you Aunt Williams. As October 12th approaches relief is all I am hoping for. Just surviving the day. I know that I’m changed forever and will think about Jordan everyday.

  2. Beverly Lyles said:

    Please let me know when you post a new entry for your Blog. I missed this one and I want to read them on the day that you post them, if possible. There is nothing wrong with sending me a personal email if you remember to do so. I think you are amazing in your expression. You get me and take me there -everytime. As you write, there is no way to know the impact of a child’s death on his mother, family, father… unless one has experienced, and then, for each person, that affect, and the grieving process, is different.But when you write, I can relate to the sorrow, the disorientation, the wanting to go back and the “why me, or us” that I have experienced in my own life. I just thank you for the communion you have brought through your honest prose.

  3. alwaysmomof4 said:

    I’ll make sure you always know the day of a new posting. Your opinion and support mean so much to me.

  4. I am just now, first time reading the blog…even though I have been aware of it for some time. I knew it would take time and breath to feel. So I get to this entry and finally comment. Cuz I get the pain of the contorted pose. I sometimes live in the achiness of it. The New Reality– I like to call it. I appreciate your honesty, your candor, your spirit in trying to understand the reasons and live in the aftermath. Keep writing and sharing your experience…..
    beth

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: