04 Jul Surviving the unthinkable and puppy therapy…

July 2022

‘Parental grief is forever boundless, an ever-present, deep-seated wound that has no name. There’s a reason no label has been ascribed to those who have lost a child — it is too foreign a concept, a much too chaotic form of brain freeze, an enormously frightening emotion for any language in the world to even consider naming.

Within that foreign concept lies the heart of the matter — losing a child is the most frightening, unspeakable, unresolvable, and ultimately the most devastating deprivation of a lifetime. It is disorienting, unimaginable, and is the most unacknowledged universal trauma of them all.’

Dr Sharon Prentice
https://www.sharonprentice.com

Almost three years and nine months of living without my darling Ben!

…of wishing I had died instead of him.

…of reeling with shock and disbelief because it still doesn’t feel real.

…of trying to put on a brave face and be strong.

…of missing my darling boy more than I could ever put into words!

To anyone who hasn’t lost a child that might seem like a long time – but to those of us who have, it might as well be yesterday. Time stands still!

Never in a million years did I expect to be so familiar with grief that I’d be writing about it. It still feels surreal – like I must be living someone else’s life!

We all know that death is inevitable. I dread the day I’ll have to say goodbye my wonderful parents but never ever imagined I’d be writing about the death of one my darling precious children. It’s not something you even allow yourself to contemplate because as Sharon Prentice says, it’s ‘too foreign a concept’.

But it happened.

Death is brutally indiscriminate. It has the cruel knack of sneaking up on you when you least expect it and shattering your world.

One day life is normal, then it’s not!

I didn’t know the weight of grief would be so physically heavy – the effort of carrying it around every day, so mentally and emotionally exhausting. Surviving this is the most horrific thing I’ve ever had to do. I heard someone say that however badly you think it might hurt, the reality is- it’s a million times worse!

They’re so right!

People want to help so tell me – ‘there’s light at the end of the tunnel’. But quite honestly I’m expecting to live in the tunnel for the rest of my life.

Losing a child is too life changing. We simply don’t get over it or get used to it. Part of you dies when your child dies – that part is gone forever. As a result grief is permanently etched into what’s left – we function and keep going but as a kind of half person (maybe three quarters at best!!)

But on a more positive note that doesn’t mean I’m miserable all the time – thankfully there are precious little pockets of light inside the tunnel that (if I let myself feel them) make living bearable…

Some call them blessings or silver linings or rainbows. Random acts of kindness; memories that make us laugh instead of cry or laugh and cry at the same time. Beautiful people who brighten our world. And LOVE. Love is the balm that soothes our broken hearts.

“It is the small everyday deeds of ordinary folks that keep darkness at bay… small acts of kindness and love.”

– J R R Tolkien

So I keep writing because weirdly it helps. It also connects me with other grieving parents who validate the debilitating complexities of this alien grief. Beautiful souls who know what it feels like to bury a child.

I never thought I would say this, but some days I actually feel like brokenness is normal. Maybe time is subconsciously rubbing the sharp edges off the pain. Maybe I’ve stopped fighting what I can’t change because no amount of positive thinking will ever bring my beautiful boy back. The Ben shaped hole (probably more like a crater) in our family is just who we are now. So I wear his beautiful presence wrapped round me like an invisible cloak – it’s all I’ve got! But I’d still rather the pain of losing him than to have never had him in the first place.

And no sooner do I think I’m coping when suddenly (without any warning) – I fall apart again.

It hurts. It will always hurt. Life will never go back to how it was but I promise you dear friend – the crushing weight of sadness does become a slightly more gentle – a little easier to bear as somehow we each find our own way to survive. As we try to balance living and loving and grieving!

I’ve been thinking a lot recently about my beautiful gentle kind grandmother. Her eldest child David died in an horrific accident when he was just four years old – he climbed onto the open hearth in their home and pulled a kettle of boiling water over himself. Inevitably my grandparents blamed themselves. I knew the story though I never heard her talk about it (I’m sure it must have been too painful) but always sensed an aura of sadness about her that used to upset me.

My dad told me that Granny kept a box of David’s favourite toys tucked away in a drawer in their house – those treasures stayed with her right to the end of her life. She went on to have more children but of course never got over the death of her little boy. Every time I think about her I cry because I know a little of her terrible agony. I’d love to talk to her about our boys – to ask her how she coped; how she managed to keep living with a broken heart. How she found purpose in her pain. I wonder, if like me, she felt frightened that letting go of the pain was like letting go of him.

This blog is meant to be about surviving!!

My plan was to write an encouraging blog about how we’ve survived the last three years and nine months without Ben. But I so easily get distracted by the horror of what it’s like to lose a child – and I can’t stop. I know I probably repeat myself more than I should but the pain of child loss is repetitive – it simply goes on and on and on.

Donna Ashworth writes…

“You don’t just lose someone once

You lose them over and over

Sometimes in the same day

When the loss

Momentarily forgotten

Creeps up

And attacks you from behind

Fresh waves of grief as the realisation hits home

They are gone

AGAIN”

– https://donnaashworth.com/

For months after Ben died we walked around like zombies in a weird kind of trance – barely functioning. Living but not living. We comforted each other and cried until there were no tears left. We just about keep afloat by taking a day at a time – not actually daring to contemplate a future without him.

Then gradually we started doing things. We found that having a focus helped – anything that detracted from the overwhelming grief (even if just for a moment). We did things we had never done before because they reminded us of Ben. His death shaped our living. It still does!

“I search for you everywhere I go…

I find you in the small crevices of life and in the bottomless canyons.

I find you in the ordinary beige moments and in conspicuous beauty

I long for morsels of your presence

In everything I do

even when it means feeling bloodied by the shards of grief

And the breathtakingly painful presence of your absence…

I will always look for you

And I will always find you

As long as I can love.”

– Dr Joanne Cacciatore

And we found it isn’t one size fits all – we discovered that what worked for one didn’t work for another. Grief is so very personal and affects us all differently. Some find sleep provides a little respite – others like awake for hours on end. Some take medication- others don’t. Some go back to work – others can’t. Some like company – others grieve in private. Some talk – others bottle it all up. I could go on…

For us – amongst other things – we find that doing things together (as a family and sometimes with Ben’s friends) helps. Anything inspired by Ben.

#benspired

… we get tattoos; organise fund raising everts; run/walk half marathons; go surfing; go to Chamonix (Ben’s special place) – try to snowboard; go camping, go to the mountains, go to the sea; have parties; design t-shirts; get PUPPIES…

Yes believe it or not – puppies have played a big part in our survival!!

Steve and Kate got Frank not long after Ben died.

Vic and Paddy got Obi, then they had a baby so…

Andrew and Alix adopted Obi – then got Chewy.

And most recently Paul and I got Marley.

It happened one gloomy morning in March when Paul and I made a very spontaneous (grief induced) decision to buy a puppy. We googled puppies and found an adorable cuddly creamy coloured cockapoo. He was eight weeks old and ready for a new home!

Our day suddenly got better!!

On reflection some of our best decisions have been ‘spur of the moment’ and I can honestly say that despite being ridiculously impulsive and probably more than a bit irresponsible, Marley has got to be top of our ‘best decisions’ list!!

We are absolutely besotted!!

Marley loves us in the beautiful unconditional kind of way only a dog can!!

He was definitely Ben inspired and just what we needed! I honestly can’t describe the difference he has made. I don’t think I realised how withdrawn, vulnerable and needy I had become and how a gorgeous little puppy full of life and mischief could have such dynamic healing powers.

I don’t think I’ve never needed puppy cuddles more than I need them right now. I feel calmer. He keeps me company. He snuggles on my knee when I cry. He lies by my feet. He follows me around. We go for walks…

I’m not suggesting for one minute that everyone should get a puppy – absolutely not!! But it’s working for us and I can honestly say that somehow it’s helping ease our pain. Marley is a distraction; he’s filling a gap that needed filling. Of course he can’t replace Ben and I wouldn’t him to, but I can honestly say 2022 has been a better year because of him!!

I read this…

‘Pets help to comfort us- Grief can leave us feeling empty and lost, and pets provide a sense of reassurance and comfort to ease us through that void. More specifically, dogs are known to be extremely intuitive and are able to sense when their owners are feeling down’

https://www.newcomerdayton.com/Blog/6219/griefandpets

Here’s a few puppy quotes…

“No matter how crappy your day is, there is always a happy face waiting for you to get home.” Unknown

“It’s amazing how much love and laughter they bring into our lives and even how much closer we become with each other because of them.” John Grogan, American Author

“Among the millions of reasons dogs are so amazing is their ability to soothe us when we are sad or in mourning.”

“Did you know that our anxiety is substantially reduced every time we simply pet a dog? It is a proven fact! Our pups are there for us in the good times and the bad”

https://wagwalking.com/sense/can-dogs-help-with-grief

To date we have survived three years, eight months and twenty seven days without Ben. I wonder how that can be possible. I used to think I would die if anything happened to one of my children!! But it did and I’m still here albeit as a very changed and different person. It’s definitely not the life we expected or would have chosen but we keep living it – for Ben.

Ben is still with us. He always will be – we make sure of that. He will never ever be forgotten and I know I’ve said it before but if asked I will always proudly say I have four children, not three!

In our own ways we are each learning to live with grief. It has shaped us and will continue to do so. We laugh. We cry. We feel joy. We are thankful. And where there is grief – there is love 💛.

In the words of Migdalia (quote below)…

‘Integrating our loved one into our present and our future with a broken heart, is an art of the soul’

Credit: Ruth McDonald