What exactly is “normal” after a child’s death? Our daughter, Margareta, died suddenly a month after her fourth birthday in September 2009. On that day, in those moments, the world as I knew it shattered. Years later, I am still learning how to pick up the pieces.
I live my life as “normal” as I can. My activities as a busy mom of four active boys haven’t changed (chef, chauffeur, drill sergeant, nurse, circus ringleader, etc.). I love my family and still experience genuine joy and happiness.
But lurking below the surface is a pain and longing so deep and profound that it defies description.
The activities of everyday life usually keep these intense feelings of grief at bay. But in the quiet moments, or if something triggers me, emotions can suddenly overwhelm me like a sneaker wave on an otherwise calm day at the beach.
It can cause me to cry for no reason. Or sap my energy completely. It can rob me of any ounce of patience for seemingly “trivial” matters, and cause my brain to short-circuit and become forgetful. Sometimes it can make me feel like I’m going crazy. The list goes on. Holidays and celebrations involving family and children continue to be significant triggers for me.
My new “normal” includes regular trips to the cemetery. My new normal means having to think about how to answer the question “how many children do you have?” based on if I’m ever going to see this person again. Or cringing every time I hear, “Are you going to try for a girl?” when someone sees me with all my boys. It means looking longingly at girls in the park that are about the age Margareta would be and wondering what she would be like now?
The new normal means learning how to live with a pain that will never completely go away, but will soften over time.
Time alone will not heal this wound. Unlike the early days of grief, it might be feasible to stuff these feelings down inside and actively keep them at bay. But the longer I push the feelings away, the worse they get. Instead, I choose to acknowledge them and figure out how to accept them as part of my life as it currently is.
I seek out support from various resources on a regular basis, which helps, but it is still a slow healing process. One of the greatest sources of working through my grief is talking about it. I also love talking about my daughter, Margareta. Sharing stories about her — and all my kids for that matter — is one sure fire way to bring a smile to my face.
This website was inspired by the memory of Margareta Sol Kubitz in hopes of helping others work through the pain of grief.
Maria,
Thank you for expressing in your blog the feelings that have flooded my life since my oldest son died by suicide in October of 2014. In the early months after his death, I was so numb that I really don’t remember much. Now it is just over a year later, and I have gone through one whole cycle of birthdays and holidays that he will never have. The rest of my family and friends seemed to have moved on, but I am stuck in a life that I didn’t choose, and had no control over. So like you, I have to learn to live in my new life, and figure out what this “new normal” is going to be like.
Thank you for your words, and my sincere condolences about your daughter. It seems that no matter how much we love them, we can’t protect them from life.
Steve Gard