A Need to Talk About Casey

Reprinted from 2010 (prior version accidentally deleted):

We continue to meet new people who have learned of our loss. We continue to meet parents who have also lost children. It is so clear to me that we need to talk about our children - we need to give their life meaning in whatever ways possible - we do not want our children who lived such very short lives to be forgotten. As I have said before, society does not make it easy sometimes for us to feel comfortable talking about our loss. Some of us have been fortunate to have those surrounding us who try to understand while many of us have not been so fortunate. Talking about our children is another way of keeping them alive. Many of us have also set up scholarships in our childrens' names and have tried to do something positive and lasting in their memory. We do this for them but very much also for us. What do we need to recover? What is recovery from this most awful experience? Someone recently talked to me about the difference between acceptance and peace. I have some measure of acceptance but little if anything in the nature of peace.

Is the loss of a child the worse loss imaginable?

Some have said that the worst loss possible is the loss of a child. I would not disagree but I can't and won't make that conclusion. I do know that when I go to comfort those who have lost parents or spouses invariably the family will say "but this is nothing compared to what you have been through." This has become a frequent occurrence for me. I almost feel like my presence carries with it the cloak of horrific tragedy and that, to some extent, others gain perspective on their losses by comparing them to my loss. I think it actually helps them deal with loss better.

It does not cause me to suffer more or make me realize the depth of my loss. I have thought about that every day for the last sixteen months. I attended a Compassionate Friends meeting and a mother who lost two of her children and a grandchild spoke. I did not feel better that my loss was "less" than hers.