Julie McGregor
Originally published in Listening Hearts Newsletter Jan-Feb 2012
Another Christmas with all the activities had come and gone, and once again my husband Roy and I celebrated New Year’s Eve with good friends. We were in a room full of people, all happy and laughing, making their New Year resolutions.
I wondered what sad stories may be hiding behind some of the faces in the room, as people put on their mask once again, so the world doesn’t see their pain. I know for certain one friend at our table hides the deep pain of a son’s suicide, many years ago, in a time when such things were hushed up and rarely spoken of since. We only found out when we lost our son Joel, four and a half years ago, and then it was through the wife of his second marriage. We had known this friend for four years, and were shocked, and while we knew he felt our deep pain, sadly he still couldn’t bring himself to speak of it.
What do we as bereaved parents think, as we look towards another new year, a year without our precious children, in a world that has been turned upside down? I remember my first New Year’s Eve, four months after we lost Joel. Once again I was in a similar room, with good friends, and happy crowds, but I felt so alone and lost, thinking I would never be happy again now that Joel was gone.
Now after four more New Years’ Eve gatherings, it has become slightly easier to bear the pain, even while I look ahead at another new year that will never be the same and all the celebrations seem so hollow. I tell myself that Joel would want me to be happy again, and not spend my life wrapped up in grief.
So what defines happiness in a life without Joel? I know I will never have that true carefree happiness again, so I look forward to another year of trying to be a better person, and understanding others more. Not letting the little things get to me, while knowing they inevitably will do at times. I am learning to appreciate the simple things in life, and the important things like family and friends.
So I move forward and now rather than taking one step at a time, sometimes it’s two or three steps at a time, and I give myself permission to take one or two steps back when the unexpected happens, and I find myself back in the depths of grief, even if just for the moment.
So I wish all the grieving mothers a happy new year, whatever you perceive your happiness to be right now, along with peace and joy, and special memories always, of your precious children.
” True happiness must have the tinge of sorrow outlived, the sense of pain softened by the mellowing years, the chastening of loss that in the wondrous mystery of time transmutes our suffering into love and sympathy with others.” William George Jordan
