When my son died in a car accident, there were certain things I didn’t want to hear. Two of the classics were, “He’s in a better place,” or “at least he didn’t suffer long.” Both of those comments were totally irrelevant to me early on in my grief. All I wanted was for my son to be alive and with me. I wanted to be able to touch him and hug him. Over time, I came to appreciate that Jacob would no longer have to suffer the pain that accompanies life here in a fallen world. I also am grateful he didn’t suffer in his death. But I was not appreciative or grateful for these truths right away.
I also disliked hearing how God was going to use my son’s death to make me a stronger person. How in the world was my gain even close to being worth the loss? I would rather be a weak woman who had a living son than a strong woman of wisdom with a son that was in Heaven. What was it to me to gain anything at all when I had lost one of the most important people in my life–my precious son?
People asking me details about the accident, or discussing the accident in my presence, was excruciating for me. Images of what might have happened during the accident flashed through my head as people spoke of the details. Those images tortured me. Everything was too raw for my body to withstand that assault. On a couple of occasions, I overheard, or was told, information of which I had not yet been made aware. Those details should have only come from law enforcement officers, my husband or one of our closest friends who was helping us gather information.
Reminding me that I still had my daughter was of no comfort or help either. Of course I love my daughter and was grateful I hadn’t lost her as well (she wasn’t in the accident with Jacob), but having her did not make Jacob’s death any easier. She is an entirely different person with a different personality and we have a different relationship. I wasn’t going to magically “snap back” into a normal role as parent because there was another child who needed me.
Any bitterness or resentment I felt toward the people who said things that didn’t settle right with me was covered in grace. I forgave them. How could they know what to say? The day before my son’s death, I had no idea what I would say to the parents of Jacob’s classmate who died of bone cancer. The very next day I was living out the same nightmare. Our experiences were different, however. They had to watch their son die slowly. I never had the chance to say goodbye. Both situations were horrible in their own way.
The parents of Jacob’s classmate and several other friends of mine who have lost children could share their own stories of hurtful comments or actions. A few of us have considered putting these together on paper and giving them as booklets to parents who have recently lost a child. Someone needs to prepare them for what might come their way. Maybe a better idea would be to stand outside the home of the family and hand the booklets out as people come to offer their condolences. Or at the funeral as people are arriving. A mini lesson: What NOT To Say.
Journey Of Grief ~ Journey Of Grace 