Pain Is Inevitable - Does Time Heal All Wounds?

"From every wound there is a scar. And every scar tells a story. A story that says, "I've survived." (Fr. Craig Scott)

"Time heals all wounds." If you are a griever, you have no doubt heard this cliché more than once. As a bereaved parent, I can attest to the fact that some wounds never heal completely. They leave a scar-a forever reminder of the pain once experienced. But during the time when the scar forms, we are given many opportunities to avoid prolonged suffering.

After the death of our son at the age of 21, my husband and I felt undeniable, raw pain. Like others, we chose to suffer because it seemed to give some value to the incredible pain of grief we felt. Pain and suffering cannot be hidden, and the pain that comes from grief sometimes hurts far harder and longer than anticipated.

It's simple to become absorbed by one's grief, and even stuck in the aftermath of the event that caused us pain. We are human. We want others to know we hurt. And sometimes we become determined not to "let go." We become obsessed with the injustice of life and draw others into our misery. Such negative energy consumes us and weakens us physically, mentally and spiritually-but we choose it anyhow. Soon friends and family drift away because our state of confusion becomes overwhelming to them. They feel helpless to console us. They concede that no matter what they do, we are unreachable. They propose that "time" might heal the wounds that fester in us.

Personally, I believe that time doesn't heal all wounds. Time simply goes by us. Time becomes one year, five years, ten years, and more. Time passes and our lives continue day-after-day. Pain quickly evolves into suffering when we allow our loss to rule our lives. Suffering is extended pain that we choose in place of healing and re-investing in life again. We become oblivious to the measurement of time.

However, what time does give us is distance from the initial hurt. This allows us to process our thoughts and offers us a choice to heal. We begin to realize that existing in a nothing-less life is totally exhausting. We observe others living life around us; and we secretly want to be like them.

What I know to be true is intense grief does change, if we willing allow ourselves to find our place in the world that still exists. Time softens the harsh feelings of those wounds-like an incision after surgery. With proper care, the incision begins to heal. The scar loses its sensitivity, and through the natural healing process, the painful memory softens.

The signs of reinvesting in life

Although the grieving process is complex, we can find simple signs that instinctively we want to heal from our pain. These signs simply say: "It's time to let go and move forward." Some of the signs we experienced included these: We began telling the stories of Chad's life-many times with a chuckle and a smile. We began to attend social and family functions recognizing the benefit of having supportive people help us face a changed world. We connected with God in new ways that were personal and fulfilling and put aside our anger. We sought ways to make sure Chad's life mattered.

A very positive sign of reinvesting in life is the search for meaning. This is a process of discovery that causes one to ask: "What is my life's purpose? What is my life plan? Is God still watching over me?" We searched and found reasons to be happy again. It was healing to awake in the morning and discover your first thoughts weren't about Chad or the misery of grief. This gave us new energy to begin a day with new possibilities. We appreciated the little miracles everyday.

The growth of compassion and understanding are key signals that the wounds are healing. We instinctively became more compassionate with all kinds of losses and struggles that others were dealing with. Grief is humbling and it can open your heart to limitless opportunities to share, serve, and to walk a new path, much different than ever imagined.

It's not time that heals the wounds. It's what we do with our grief and with our lives as a result of the trauma or loss that caused us great pain. When we observe others who have "overcome" obstacles in life, we mentally compare our situation to theirs. We may look at them and wonder. "I can't imagine how they did it. What is their secret?" When we act on these instincts, we replace pain and suffering with HOPE.

Who am I now?

We become proponents of change, because we recognized that to live fully we must honor the obstacles we've overcome. We live in a world of change. Think back a generation or two and recall all the change that have occurred in technology, life styles, clothing, women's rights, and disease management. Be amazed at how adversity creates change and change creates a better existence.

I feel blessed to have gotten through intense grief and to have learned to embrace the results. I feel blessed to be able to look back and remember, as awful as it was, and recognize that the flashbacks to that pain are temporary. I can quickly return to the present world of the living. I will never forget Chad, who was such a wonderful part of our lives. His story still reinforces great lessons of human nature, humility, sacrifice and unending love.

There is no doubt that I am not the same person I was before Chad died. On the outside, I've definitely aged. But on the inside, that's where I'm really different. I've learned that the surprises of life make me as vulnerable to challenge as the next guy. I have "forgotten dreams" replaced with "maybe moments." I've put my regrets ("I wish I would have, could have") behind and focus only on the sanctity of happy memories. Loving family and friends have shared my sorrow; listened to my story; and helped me honor the past.

On the inside, I understand the word "friend," and I'm fortunate to have made many new ones. I value my commitments and have learned to say "No." I adjust my priorities, sometimes after tense moments of fighting the inner ego that says "you have to" or "you need to." I am more true to myself. In the need to create continuity in life, I try to build bridges where there once were many gaps. Although it seems as if I'm often unprepared for a single event, I'm more prepared for the grander event of all.

I'm still the mom who lost a child. I still feel sad dreaming dreams that will never come true, but I move on. Time has healed the deepest wounds, but a shadow of the scars will always remain. They are battle scars; medals of honor. They signify Courage, Wisdom, and Strength. They create limitless stories of Hope. They are marks in time, lessons of love, and I wear them proudly. They pay homage to this anonymous quote; "Pain is inevitable; suffering is optional." I chose to heal the pain and replace the suffering with hope.