It's that time of year. School is out for the summer, pretty much everywhere now. Over the past few weeks, I've been seeing a steady stream of "last day" photos (when I was a kid, we had first day photos & that was it, but nevermind...), prom photos, year-end recital and sports banquet photos, junior kindergarten graduation photos, kindergarten graduation photos, sixth grade graduation photos, junior high graduation photos, high school graduation photos, university graduation photos (including my own nephew's). Parents posting on Facebook with hashtags that say "soproud" and "growinguptoofast" with sad face emoticons. Watching from the sidelines, those of us who have lost children, those of us who wanted to be parents but aren't, are watching with a mixture of pride (for the achievements of those kids we know & love), bemusement ("get a grip, mom & dad"), sadness, and yes, a little envy.
I understand that sensation of time passing by way too quickly, a little. It doesn't seem that long ago that our nephew was an adorable, chubby, curly-headed toddler with a soother that seemed permanently stuck in his mouth. And now he's a towering six-feet-something tall, embarking on a new job and saving up to buy his girlfriend an engagement ring. Yikes! (We weren't able to attend his convocation -- not enough tickets -- but we were still able to watch him cross the stage and receive his diploma via webcast. Three cheers for technology!!)
But as another babyloss mom has said (in words to this effect), "I really wish people wouldn't say stuff like 'I wish they could just stay little forever.' Believe me, you really don't wish that. I will never see my son's first day of school, or last day or school, or graduation, or wedding. I will never get to see him grow up. At all."
This September, my daughter would have been entering her last year of high school. Turning 17 in November.
This time next year, I will be looking at my friends' & relatives' photos of their sons & daughters (at least five or six kids that I can think of, offhand, whose moms' pregnancies overlapped mine with Katie) attending prom, attending graduation, receiving awards, posing with proud parents & grandparents, discussing their plans for the future, talking about university and community college in the fall.
There are many things about the bereaved parent experience that I've learned to grin & bear, to shrug off, that I've gotten used to, developed coping strategies to handle. Showers, birthday parties, first communions, weddings, Halloween, Christmas -- occasionally, I will have a difficult moment, but these things generally sting far less than they once did.
I don't think this is going to be one of those things.
I am not looking forward to it.
You can find more of this week's #MicroblogMondays posts here.
What a bittersweet moment. Pride for your nephew, but that loss for yourself and the child that should have been having these experiences, too. Time just keeps marching on, and it just goes to show that there's no statute of limitations on the pain of loss. I'm thinking of you and hope for peace for you at these difficult milestone times. Especially the overlapping ones.
ReplyDeleteI'm abiding with you on these milestones. I can tell the sadness is heavy at this time. Loving you.
ReplyDeleteSending hugs as you deal with yet another aspect of this heartbreaking loss. There are no words. Nothing can take it away or make it better. I suspect this is one of those things that will frequently bring pain. But I do hope that you find some solace in watching those you love go through such incredible milestones themselves. (I have to say YAY for your nephew and saving for an engagement ring! How exciting is THAT?!?)
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry. I can see how the end of high school would bring with it that extra layer of pain. This is such a beautiful post and a reminder to those of us with living children that as painful as time marching on is, having it stop would be far far worse. Thank you for reminding me of that.
ReplyDelete(PS. Any chance your nephew is a Yorkie? Their ticket system is RIDICULOUS. Don't get me started.)
Yep! Three tickets per graduate (i.e., Mom, Dad & Girlfriend). Apparently we could have gone to the box office to see if any extras were available, but didn't want to go all the way there only to be turned back. And I completely forgot that I had a friend with connections at the President's office who probably could have pulled some strings. Oh well. Dh said we got the best seats in the house -- we still got to see him graduate, and we didn't have to sit there for hours waiting for the 20 gazillion other grads' names to be called. ;)
DeleteI'm so sorry. I can see how the end of high school would bring with it that extra layer of pain. This is such a beautiful post and a reminder to those of us with living children that as painful as time marching on is, having it stop would be far far worse. Thank you for reminding me of that.
ReplyDelete(PS. Any chance your nephew is a Yorkie? Their ticket system is RIDICULOUS. Don't get me started.)
This post is such an important reminder that grief isn't a set moment in time. It's a process, and it loops around at times, even far down the road.
ReplyDeleteLoribeth, I don't quite know why (as you've written about grief and loss before), but this particular post of yours has me in tears. I started off okay, rolling my eyes at all the "graduations" (when here in NZ, the only graduation ceremonies we have are from university), and smiling at your "get a grip" comment (as I've certainly thought that too).
ReplyDeleteNo, I think it was the comment about people saying, "I wish they could stay little forever." No, you're right, they don't wish that. I never got to meet my babies, but yes, there are children I know whose mothers were pregnant at the same time I was. Or the baby I met as I was losing my first ectopic baby. One child in particular - seeing him is lovely, and I love that in the last year (due to his own tragic circumstances) we have been able to become part of his life. But it is always always a reminder. I hope as the next days and weeks pass by, you can forget (a little) about what is coming next year. Sending love and hugs.
I'm sorry to hear it has been difficult as of late with the FB posts. It sounds like like this may not be an easy year at times. Anticipating the waves of grief. Thoughts are with you.
ReplyDeleteSending you (((HUGS))). There are so many layers of losses...
ReplyDeleteCrying from this. Because I want you to be celebrating these milestones, not being on the sidelines. Echoing Mali's sentiments and sending you lots of love today.
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry this time is hard for you. I don't know if this is helpful but it helps me to hear that you have learned to cope through the earlier milestones as pregnancy, showers and births literally make me unable to breathe. I would like to be able to have a little more grace in those moments (and to not feel like I am being stabbed in the heart).
ReplyDeleteI feel the emotion in this post and am sending you hugs. Yes, time is a gift and growing up/aging is a privilege. I am glad your nephew brings you joy but the sadness is real too. Thanks for the reminder to not take anything for granted.
ReplyDeleteI think about this as my friend's post about the kids Kindergarten graduation... or the 1st day of school. Hugs to you! I know the next graduation session will be a hard one for you, but just know you have a whole community here for support and love :)
ReplyDelete