Child-loss is a black hole of grief and sorrow in which every emotion is compressed and compounded. It is an inescapable vortex.
Vic was the centre of my emotional cosmos. My world revolved around my precious child. Vic was my past, my present and my future. When she died it felt as if my life ended.
For the first time in 38 years I cried. I truly cried and called to the heavens. It was as if 38 years of pent up fear, anguish and stress was released. I screamed, I sobbed, I wept… Did you know that there is a difference between weeping and sobbing? I clung to my child. I stroked her hair. I washed her little body and dressed her in her favourite pyjamas. I sprayed her favourite perfume on her.
Grief is a strange journey.
When I embarked on the Journey of Mourning it was a strange road. I had lost people I love dearly before. My mom, my dad, BFF’s, colleagues and family had died. Of course grandparents too… But I had never lost a child. This is a road I had never travelled before. I did not only lose my precious child but I also lost the person I was.
Within a millisecond I ceased to be a mother. Wait – I became a “bereaved mother.” The hope I had clung to for 36.5 years was lost! The fight in me was gone.
The second my child’s soul left her body my heart shattered into a million pieces.
The hardest thing I had to do in my life was say goodbye to my child; listening to her breathing getting weaker and weaker…. knowing that her last breath was so close.
Then I thought nothing would match my pain watching my precious baby leave our home for the last time in a plastic sheet on a gurney until I had to stand and watch the hearse drive away with my precious, precious child lying in a cold hard coffin – her destination a crematorium!
No matter how prepared I thought I was for Vic’s death – I wasn’t! People seem to think I should be grateful Vic is dead. Just as people did not want to listen to me talking about Vic’s terrible suffering they now don’t want me to talk about Vic after she died. They ask you how you are doing hoping you won’t be honest and answer…
It is almost surreal to see that the world has carried on with its business; that the heavens are unchanged; that life has continued. I look at myself and I think that people that don’t know me would never guess that my life ended 6 months ago… People pat me on the back and say “You are so strong…”
We are nearing Vic’s 6 month anniversary and I have learnt to breathe again. I have learnt to stay strong for the boys. My life will and must mirror Vic’s strength and courage. Her dream of a Hospice will continue to live on in me…Her goodness will continue to spread to the community and the world!
I raised Vic to be strong, courageous, and brave. Vic taught her sons that she is their mother not their excuse…
I am Vic’s mother – she is my reason; not my excuse!
15 thoughts on “I am Vic’s mother!”
As always, a beautiful tribute to Vic. HUGS
My heart is with you and don’t let anyone tell you when you can and can’t grieve, they’re not in your shoes. Often things hit harder after so be gentle with you. Sending hugs xo
Thank you dear friend.xxx
You are wonderful, Tersia.
Yes, weeping and sobbing; I weep when I don’t have the strength to sob. And I know what you mean about people saying you’re strong; what else would I do, I ask? How is this “strong” when I feel like I’m being forced? You are doing such good work in the world, Tersia; and I believe the peace that you offer is something you’ll find, for you.
I love the way you articulate it. “I weep when I don’t have the strength to sob”… Thank you my friend. You know my pain as I know yours.
you can always talk to us about vic. we grew to love her and now miss her. we do not want to pretend she is forgotten, as she never will be by us. i have the time, any time, just talk and i am here.
Thank you my dear friend. I don’t have anything else to blog about.
I wish I had words to express my sympathy, but it is an impertinence, and I won’t try. What does she say in dreams, if it isn’t impertinent of me to ask?
Thank you dear Lucinda!!! I don’t dream of her. I don’t sleep long enough to dream. I will be posting on our contact soon!
You have done so well, healing is slow and never thorough enough to erase the scars. The memories you share are comforting. God bless.
Great inspiration. This could be my mother’s feeling when she loses my eldest sister.
Hugs to you too
Comments are closed.