Silent Grief

It is hard to remember that in our silent grief, others are grieving too. I cannot tell them that my grief is greater because I am his mother. We all grieve. There is no yardstick to measure who grieves harder than the other. It is not a contest to be won, it is a shattered life. I would gladly give it away except I don't want someone else to feel what I feel every moment of the day. It is why I try to keep my grief silent. I don't want to share it with anyone and see them break down too.

When we say we died the day our child died, those are not just words to be said. We did die. The who we once were is gone, never to come back again. So we silently grieve the loss of ourselves as well as the loss of our child. Others keep saying they are waiting for us to be our old selves, not believing that person is gone. Some will stay and accept who we are, many will not. So we grieve that loss too. Our lives are full of loss of so many things. They live in our silent grief.

Silent grief is painful. The triggers are still there that make the tears fall, so we leave the room and go to our safe place to let the tears flow. The come just as hard as they did the day our child died. It does not matter if it is one day or a hundred years, the loss will always be raw. We cover it up and get on with our lives as best we can, or so it would seem to others. Sometimes, we are just going through the motions of living. We do learn to smile and laugh again, but the sadness stays, always just behind the mask we wear.

My youngest, my only son, is gone. I will never see his smile again or hug him. I will never hear his voice. The never goes on and on in my silent grief. Jan 5th will be 5 years. So with the holidays and his death so close together, it is hard to hide the hurt, the sorrow of my loss. So many of us want to sleep through it all but, of course, we can't. We have to face it all and put on a smile while our silent grief grinds us into the ground.

My oldest grandson lives with us now, having him here has brought me a different kind of joy. He is so like his Uncle at times. So I have two grandsons that my son lives on in. At times it is painful and other times, it helps me move forward. I will miss my grandson when he moves away, he had brought so much noise and laughter to our home. My youngest grandson comes once a month, he is my sons son. He brings with him so much joy and laughter. Our lives are full, yet empty.

I try to live in the moment now. Each moment with those I love are very precious. They have no idea how much they mean to me. I tell them I love them, but it goes beyond that because I know great loss. To lose them would be to lose myself again, there would be no coming back from that. It is hard for many to understand what we went through and what we are going through in our silent grief. We have to learn to walk again. It will be the hardest thing in this life that we do outside of losing our child. Learning to live without our child.

For those of you who are suffering, remember, there is still joy and beauty in the world. It will take time, but if you open yourself to it, it is there. Our silent grief is the badge we wear for our deep love. Yeah, love hurts, without it, we are nothing. I will continue to carry my silent grief for as long as I have to. We know that it will be with us until our dying day, but we do learn how to life again. I wish I could take your pain away and give you a blanket of love. You will be okay. I promise. With all my love "Forever Mom."

About the Author
My name is Barbara Mason. My son, Tim left this world on January 5th 2014 at the age of 34. I have lost many, including my Dad and Mom and have never felt the pain and grief that this loss brought. Every day became a struggle with no hope for relief from the horror in sight. The only thing that would help was an impossible wish, to have my boy back again. I started writing about Tim and this new life and found some comfort and hope to give comfort to others.