It has been 2555 days since my beautiful child succumbed to her horrific illness. It has been 6 years, 11 months, 30 days. I have been swinging on a pendulum of grief and recovery for the past 84 months. It has been an ongoing battle to balance the pain and guilt of outliving my child with the desire to honour her final wish.
Dr Colin Murray Parker said “Grief is the price we pay for love”
My love for my child will never die. I will never forget my child.
As I live in the past I continuously remember (some long-forgotten) things. I remember her baby softness, her toddler cuteness, her primary school years when she developed a sense of humour, her defiant teenage years. I remember Vic falling in love with Colin, getting married and falling pregnant 6 weeks later. I remember the gentle, beautiful mommy she was to her boys. I remember her fierce love for her boys. I remember her descent into ill health. I remember her last days. I remember her last breath.
I feel compelled to say the following to those of you blessed with healthy and living children. As you love your living children I love my child. Unconditionally and every second of the day. I too want to talk about my child… Just as you do. When you talk about your child and his or her achievements I don’t squirm in my chair. When I talking about my child you try and change the subject. I have heard a friend say “I have heard the story before “and walk away from the group. If I repeat a story it’s because I don’t have new memories. I only have old memories to hold on and repeat. Your discomfort doesn’t make my child matter less.
Vic’s life was cut short.
Not my love for her.
I will grieve for a lifetime. I will never “get over it”. My love for Vicky will last for the rest of my life. Every milestone in my grandsons lives remind me of our loss. Milestone birthdays, Jared’s wedding and now Kirsten’s pregnancy. Jon-Daniel graduating at the end of the year… Yet I have experienced joy. I have hugged and wiped tears from the eyes of other bereaved parents. I have been filled with pride for my precious child’s brave and selfless journey through life and death. I look at the boys and am filled with pride for the young men they are. I remember with pride what a wonderful mommy Vicky was. I am filled with sadness that Vic will never have the privilege of holding her first grandson.
Tonight, as the pendulum swings back I once again descend into this intense state of grief. Tomorrow morning at 10:35 it will be 7 years since Vic stopped breathing.
Today I allowed myself silence and unchecked tears. Next week I will continue to honour my child’s life by fulfilling her final wish. Rest in peace my precious, beautiful child. You will forever be in my heart. I will never forget.
2 thoughts on “Pendulum of grief – 7 years”
Vicky will never be forgotten. She touched so many lives, Tersia – including mine.
There isn’t much I can say. I remember meeting you online just before Vic’s death and admiring your stoicism. You were even interested in my writing! I understand your loving Vic as a living person (as believe she is, in another dimension) as I feel the same way about my father, who died in middle age, 40 years ago now; yet it is nore in the course of nature to lose a parent. I don’t think the person who said to you, ‘I have heard this before’ was acting as a friend.
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