(I wrote this on 13/1/2022 but posted it today 15/1)
17 years later, on the night before my world finally came crashing down all those years ago, back on 5th January 2005 at 4.30 pm, when I received a call no parent ever wishes to receive, I look back and cringe at the horror and utter despair I have faced in my life. Things no person should have to endure. A close friend has often said "Let it go, let it go" and most things, I have let go, as without letting it go one doesn't heal, but that doesn't mean you don't remember, though some still hurt deep to the core of your being.
No one could ever understand the depths of despair one faces when you lose a child unless you have been subjected to such utter horror yourself. The shock, numbness, utter disbelief, denial, actual physical pain, despair, guilt, and the grief that fully encompasses you.
It changes you. At that moment and for a long time after you don’t care about anything anymore. You sink so far down that you can hardly breathe at times. Deep sadness envelops you, that is just so intense it doesn’t go away, ever. You realise deep down many months later that you have to move on for those that remain. In those months that follow you try and shut down the sadness, by appearing cheerful and attending to everyday life in your normal way, with laughter in your voice and on the outside looking as though you are ok, but for goodness sake, this is your child you birthed and raised for many, many years. The agonising pain you have been subjected to just doesn't disappear overnight, and for those that believe it should, you obviously haven’t been affected, are so heartless and are no longer in my life. I can’t switch off my emotions like a light switch. I try, omg I try so very hard, but at times it is just too hard, so I shut myself away until I can bury it all again and move forward once more.
Over time you start to slowly come to terms with the realisation that you won’t see that wonderful child you birthed, nurtured and helped shape into an amazing 24-year-old adult. Though many times during the following years it hits you in the face, again and again, that that fabulous child of yours is no longer here. Times like when you are in a shopping centre, pick up a shirt thinking your child would like that. Then you remember, the tears form, unwittingly roll down your cheeks, your heart begins to race so very fast, you feel faint and you have to leave the shopping centre pronto.
Times also like Christmas, birthdays, Father’s Day, Mother’s Day, a song, a movie, a saying, your child’s friends marrying and having children themselves, the day your child passed away, or a thought that surfaces many times of what your child would be like all these years later if he was still alive. Would he have married, had children, what would his profession now be? Yes, these moments hit me full on and pull at my heartstrings, reducing me to tears still 17 years on after losing our son, Richard.
Losing a child is the most difficult event anyone I believe can experience. Eventually, you learn to swallow your grief and put on a happy face for those around you, not letting on just how sad you still remain, but by golly, it is just so hard some days.
Thank you to all those who have stood by Martin and me. Those that truly try to understand. Those that just come up to me and give me a hug, no words, just a hug or send a message on those hard days. I wish you all happiness forevermore and certainly wish you never experience such heartache as losing a child.
