Bereaved mothers speak the same language. We may not be able to translate it to the rest of the world, but bereaved mothers understand it, every word, every syllable, every sound and every echo of silence. Universally.
Our eyes recognize the pain staring back at us through words, through art, through music, and through silence. The pain that changes everything.
Our worlds connect as do our hearts and at that moment, we offer what we never wanted to be able to give, empathy to a bereaved mother.
With social media today uniting so many of us together, I have come to appreciate and love our community so much. I value the gift of a <3 or {hug} in the comment corner more than I ever thought I would. A bereaved mother speaks volumes by this simple gesture while the rest of the world is still trying to figure out what to do or say.
There is much to be respected about the experience of living (surviving) after loss and the understanding that is woven between hearts miles away from each other or those that are only a tombstone apart.
There is much to be respected about the experience of living (surviving) after loss and the understanding that is woven between hearts miles away from each other or those that are only a tombstone apart.
There is something tragically beautiful when bereaving mothers connect. There is a bittersweet relief that someone understands, really, really understands.
And with that, they understand all of the extras that come along with child loss. The extras that come along with tending to a cemetery plot or replacing silk flowers every season. The extras that cannot be adequately described in any form of content, but only felt and seen in the eyes and heart of a bereaved mother. The extras that hurt and cause silent chaos and suffering long after the world thinks you should have "moved on." The extras that leave residue behind when the rest of the world thinks enough time has passed and things are all better. Some of this residue will surface immediately, but sometimes doesn't show up for months or years, it includes PTSD, depression, anxiety, mood swings, control issues, loss of sleep, tormenting flashbacks, extreme highs and lows, etc...I really could go on and on, but you know what I am saying.
They understand the way your stomach feels two days before your child's birthday isn't "happy." They understand it doesn't go away, ever.
They understand the language, the language of our loss.
Too many of us speak this language. The bereaved mother's language.
Do you understand what I am saying? If you do, I am so very sorry! And if you don't, you are so very blessed!
So I sign off tonight in honor of all of my bereaved mother friends...wishing you didn't understand!
<3 <3 <3 and {{{hugs}}}
And with that, they understand all of the extras that come along with child loss. The extras that come along with tending to a cemetery plot or replacing silk flowers every season. The extras that cannot be adequately described in any form of content, but only felt and seen in the eyes and heart of a bereaved mother. The extras that hurt and cause silent chaos and suffering long after the world thinks you should have "moved on." The extras that leave residue behind when the rest of the world thinks enough time has passed and things are all better. Some of this residue will surface immediately, but sometimes doesn't show up for months or years, it includes PTSD, depression, anxiety, mood swings, control issues, loss of sleep, tormenting flashbacks, extreme highs and lows, etc...I really could go on and on, but you know what I am saying. They understand the way your stomach feels two days before your child's birthday isn't "happy." They understand it doesn't go away, ever.
They understand the language, the language of our loss.
Too many of us speak this language. The bereaved mother's language.
Do you understand what I am saying? If you do, I am so very sorry! And if you don't, you are so very blessed!
So I sign off tonight in honor of all of my bereaved mother friends...wishing you didn't understand!
<3 <3 <3 and {{{hugs}}}
<3 I do understand. It's almost July
ReplyDeleteJamie...BIG hugs!!!
DeleteBeautifully written. I am so thankful for the network of bereaved mothers I have found within my loss. They help to keep me together that is for sure. I am so blessed to have them.
ReplyDeleteThank you for reading Suzie! I am also so grateful for our network of bereaved mothers!
DeleteThank you for writing this beautiful post. I do understand.
ReplyDeleteI am so sorry you understand Jaime. :( Thank you for reading! Hugs to you!
DeleteWell said. I found it amazing how many times I felt closer to those halfway around the world than the ones that used to be such a big part of my non-online life. This can also apply to bereaved fathers.
ReplyDeleteI understand. Over the last 16 months I have shared the deepest secrets of my heart with women I have never met. Women who understand me now more than any family or friend.
ReplyDeleteI do understand. Today , November 22nd, marks 2 years and 5 months since my son was killed in a car crash. There are images which I will never forget...that when I think that I have forgotten them or at least filed them in my head where they are less likely to pop there they are again. Sometimes just a passing thought and sometimes there is little I can think of outside of those images. Having people who are going through the same thing as me helps but at the same time really sucks too. Because it means that someone else...too many other people have experienced the same pain I feel and there will be more added to that list today, tomorrow and on and on. The hardest pain to explain to anyone who hasn't felt it and the one thing nobody who has wants someone else to feel.
ReplyDeleteI do understand :( wish I didn't
ReplyDeleteI understand too......and I am so thankful for the other ladies who understand my language. ..although I wish that they also didn't ....♥
ReplyDelete