These thoughts may sound familiar from Day 1 and beyond. “What am I
going to do? How am I going to cope with this? What the ‘F’ just
happened? How am I going to get over this? I’m never going to get over
this…. Why?”
Maybe it’s the same for you but for me it was hard to wrap my head around
the reality that a human being I helped make, to raise, to hold, to have a
great time with too is gone. On September 2 nd , 2019, my family’s lives
changed as well as quite a few people who knew him and grew up with
him. It was a shock, the imaginary forcefield that was supposed to keep
my kid safe popped like a balloon and I was forced to look at the cold stark
reality that bad things can happen to anyone, me, my wife, my children!
And not just the small stuff, big stuff, like death. It wasn’t supposed to
happen to ME. It wasn’t supposed to happen to US. It did though. It
happened to us, and it happened to you.
Now here we are. We know there is no safety net, we know bad things can
happen, and we know we have no way of stopping it. In those first months
we had to accept our loss, and the fact that we couldn’t protect our kiddo.
Did we love that child? YES. Would we switch places for that child to live?
YES. Are we bad parents or people? NO. We just got ran over by a 20 ton
boulder we hoped would never come. How do we get over that? I don’t
think you have to “get over it” to move forward in your life. In so many
ways I haven’t “gotten over it”. I haven’t moved on or moved forward from
the loss of my child. But I have changed. I have learned to cope with the
loss of my child. This whole thing has been a long path of curvy, uphill,
downhill, high flying days and low crushing days. No straight path, no easy
button, just trying to get my footing back so I can stand up again.
Now it’s the question of how do I come to grips with this snake pit of
thoughts and despair? The first couple of years is just making it through
the day. It’s about keeping busy even if keeping busy is some mindless
task. The first years are so hard to explain because your brain is numb, but
the feelings and thoughts are swirling around inside you like a tornado. All
the while simultaneously trying to look like you have your life in order, but
this clown car is going from curb to curb hitting garbage cans and YOU
from the inside are thinking “I really pulled this off”. Eventually, at some
point, you will be ready to look at that event and accept it. When I come to
that truth it changes the way I see the world and what I want to do in
response. What everyone else does in response is their choice and we
don’t have a say in it. The reason I say this is because we are all different.
There are so many things that have happened to each of us throughout our
lives that we can’t expect others to act like us.
I have accepted that I am not the same person I was after Day 1. I can
crack jokes, make very inappropriate (but funny) comments and we laugh
but the hurt is there. I try not to dwell on the hurt, but it’s there, it’s always
there, it’s just not piercing like the first months.
I’ve accepted that I will get old, but my kid will always be 15.
I’ve accepted that I turned into a giant crybaby. It’s terrible! I know it’s
suppressed emotions (I’ve accepted that too) and maybe one day I will slay
that demon.
I’ve accepted that he is dead.
I’ve accepted that at any random time and at any random place That Night
will sucker punch me. It will take my breath away. I will have to stop and
catch my breath, compose myself, and keep on going.
I’ve accepted that there are good things that happen too and that I need to
enjoy those things. I’m allowed to look forward to something. I can laugh.
I can have goals.
I’ve accepted that life moves on. It doesn’t stop for anything or anyone.
All these things, and so many more, have helped me come to grips with
losing my son. But the question remains. “Why do I try?”
A Path to Peace
You may have to ask yourself this question a dozen times or a hundred
times. Ask yourself, “What one thing can I do today that will bring a little bit
of joy to my life?” Recognize that that joy is good. Maybe you have a
favorite drink or snack you enjoy in the morning. Accept that joy and know
that it is good. Accept that there is something more to your life than sorrow,
and that is good. We are allowed joy, friendship, forgiveness, laughter, and
all that stuff you’ve missed over the past days, weeks, months, years or
however long your walk has taken you since your Day 1. Forgive yourself
every day. Be good to yourself and others every day. Enjoy the moment,
enjoy the day.
If you are reading this, trying to help your friend, or lover, or child or
spouse. It’s patience and understanding of the other one. Emotions can
skip from one thing to another, to another, and another in moments.
Patience and understanding and giving a very gentle prodding from time to
time is very helpful. There will be times when we look lost in thought and
are just staring out to nowhere, it’s okay, we are working through
something. When we come back from wherever we were you may be
giving a hug, a shoulder to cry on or maybe just holding our hand
afterward. You don’t have to say anything, just be there.
I am a Christian. I believe in God, and I know He carried me through this
time. He put LovesFromLuke in my head and I keep moving through it
though, at all times, I feel incapable and unworthy. I pray for all of us who
have lost a child. I pray over each “LovesKit” that goes out to a family who
has lost a child, and for anyone who has visited our website. I pray for the
people who helped create the website so that you may have solace. I pray
these words reach you and help you and that you can accept and come to
grips with the path that has been laid out for you. God will turn all things to
good.
Peace to you all.
P&J Santon
LovesFromLuke
