Recently a friend of mine came to me and asked me if I would write a letter to a family member of hers whose child had recently passed. I've written about it, delivered speeches, and taught lessons about it before and I really don't mind.
If there is something I can say that might comfort someone in their time of grief, then I would love to help. However, rather than write an individual letter, let me write something to those of you who have experienced the crushing pain that comes with losing someone who is supposed to outlive you. Feel free to pass it on.
Dear Friend,
I have been asked to write you a letter that a loving friend of yours hopes will make the pain go away. Unfortunately, no such letter exists.
You don't want words of comfort. You want to see your loved one again. It's not that the words of comfort are not appreciated, I can just tell you from experience, that there are no magic words, scriptures or rituals, that will make the pain instantly disappear. What I can tell you is that you are not alone in your feelings. In the first few days you cannot understand why people are still moving along as if the world had not ended.
In the days and weeks that follow your tragedy you will begin to return to a more normal life. Only, it is a new normal. You now have a new level of happiness. One that comes with survivor's guilt. You feel guilty for smiling, for laughing. For breathing. This is especially noticeable when you attend a function you and your child always did together.
You will be angry with the people around you. Don't be. Some feel guilty for still having their child. Others don't know what to say or how to act. You will lose some friends, but you will gain some new ones. Friends that want to hear about your child and the life that they lived. And you won't mind telling them.
They will cry with you. They will laugh with you.
You will get around to getting rid of some of your child's belongings. But you will also have an emotional attachment to things you will not be able to give away. Do this in your own time. It has been 4 1/2 years for us and, while we have given some of her stuff away (and she had a lot of stuff!) our daughter's room remains much the same.
You will handle it. You will handle it in your own time and in your own way. Don't allow anyone to rush you. And, spouses, be mindful of your partner's feelings. Just because you are ready, doesn't mean that he or she is.
You will stand in an ocean of sorrow facing the shore as unseen waves softly lap at your shoulder when, suddenly, a tsunami of grief will hit you knocking you to your knees. You will rise and set your feet firmly determined to stand. Eventually, these tidal waves become fewer and farther between. But they never go away completely.
You will survive. Rely on faith, friends, family and fond memories. Your child is never gone as long as they live on in your thoughts.
I hope this helps.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Monday, August 8, 2011
To Tell the Tooth
There are many who scoff at the idea of going to see a dentist when you are not having a problem. I was one of those – until I broke a tooth that could have been saved if I had taken care of it. Aside from a fun tale, nothing good can really come from a broken tooth. Over the last year I have taken care of getting this tooth replaced in several stages. Please allow me to share.
Stage one: When you are trying to replace a bad tooth you have three choices. You can just have the broken one removed. You can have it removed and a bridge put in which is effectively a cap for two of your teeth and a fake tooth between them. Or, you can choose to have an implant. I chose the latter. The surgeon removes the bad tooth and puts a paste in to fill the holes left in the jaw after the extraction. The paste consists of cadaver bone. The thing I remember most about the recovery was the unique post-surgery taste. Then it dawned on me. I taste dead people.
Stage two: Once the dead people paste has set in my jaw and become one with my bone, the surgeon has to cut back into my nicely healed gums and drill what amounts to a post-hole in the bone. A small screw is put in the hole, the gums are stitched back closed and I am sent on my way again. Post-op was less painful than the first – except for in the wallet. The main thing I realized during this recovery is that my tongue will, of its own accord, try to untie the stitches without waiting for the doctor to cut them out himself. My tongue was unsuccessful – but I can now do serious damage to a cherry stem!
Stage three: This is the easiest stage. The surgeon simply cuts the gums and screws in my temporary “Terminator” like tooth. In other words, you can now see the titanium fence post in my mouth. This procedure was much less complicated, but the anesthesia had an interesting effect on me. Evidently, while sedated, my blood pressure spiked a bit and Dr. Thames had to add some medication to regulate it. I awoke in my bed at home with no recollection of how I got there. My wife assured me that I undressed myself even if I did ask her, shortly after I unbuttoned my shirt, how it got unbuttoned. I think she lied to me because at no time did my hands leave my side – that I can recall. I’m not sure what else I did while in this state, but I have been promised that it will not appear on YouTube.
My dentist can now take over. Within the next month I should be good as new. But that’s another story for another time. Needless to say, I am sure it will be worth it. YouTube video and all.
Stage one: When you are trying to replace a bad tooth you have three choices. You can just have the broken one removed. You can have it removed and a bridge put in which is effectively a cap for two of your teeth and a fake tooth between them. Or, you can choose to have an implant. I chose the latter. The surgeon removes the bad tooth and puts a paste in to fill the holes left in the jaw after the extraction. The paste consists of cadaver bone. The thing I remember most about the recovery was the unique post-surgery taste. Then it dawned on me. I taste dead people.
Stage two: Once the dead people paste has set in my jaw and become one with my bone, the surgeon has to cut back into my nicely healed gums and drill what amounts to a post-hole in the bone. A small screw is put in the hole, the gums are stitched back closed and I am sent on my way again. Post-op was less painful than the first – except for in the wallet. The main thing I realized during this recovery is that my tongue will, of its own accord, try to untie the stitches without waiting for the doctor to cut them out himself. My tongue was unsuccessful – but I can now do serious damage to a cherry stem!
Stage three: This is the easiest stage. The surgeon simply cuts the gums and screws in my temporary “Terminator” like tooth. In other words, you can now see the titanium fence post in my mouth. This procedure was much less complicated, but the anesthesia had an interesting effect on me. Evidently, while sedated, my blood pressure spiked a bit and Dr. Thames had to add some medication to regulate it. I awoke in my bed at home with no recollection of how I got there. My wife assured me that I undressed myself even if I did ask her, shortly after I unbuttoned my shirt, how it got unbuttoned. I think she lied to me because at no time did my hands leave my side – that I can recall. I’m not sure what else I did while in this state, but I have been promised that it will not appear on YouTube.
My dentist can now take over. Within the next month I should be good as new. But that’s another story for another time. Needless to say, I am sure it will be worth it. YouTube video and all.
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