Skip to main content

Unfathomable

I was walking around the office, showing off some new pictures of my girls to a group of select co-workers. A woman I'll call Kay called me over so she could take a look. I don't know Kay very well, but I do know that her 18-year-old son, her only child, was killed in a car accident a few years ago. I showed her the pictures and thanked her for her compliments, which were effusive. And I walked back to my desk wondering how it was possible to show joy over other people's children when you have lost your own. I know that people do it, I know they have to move on, but I just can't imagine how.

And as I write this, I have the feeling that I'm being insensitive, that I'm suggesting that a good mother wouldn't be able to move on from grief. I don't mean that at all. I know that if I were ever tested in this way -- which, needless to say, god forbid -- I, too, would come to a day that I would be able to be happy again, to enjoy life again. But the process of getting there is beyond my comprehension. I can't see how I could ever come to accept that a life without this:



would ever be a life I'd want to lead.

Comments

aimee said…
I, too, wonder how people go on after the loss of a child. I know they do, but I doubt they ever feel complete joy again. I know I wouldn't.
1:28 PM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

I ask you

This is my garden: Or rather, this is the patch of soil that was my garden last summer. It produced millions of tomatoes, dozens of green peppers, a handful of cucumbers, and two puny watermelons. I do not wish to repeat last summer's vegetable bounty, because most of said bounty went to waste. Nor, however, do I want this patch of soil to remain brown and bare throughout the summer, because it's unattractive. So, what do I plant here, in the shrubbery/flowery vein? Keep in mind that I do not have a green thumb. Also, I don't want to spend a lot of money. Also, this area is in full sun most of the day. And it's really hot. And sometimes we get rabbits. Any advice? To thank you in advance, I give you these goofy photos of my children and their homemade parfaits (which Mallory persisted in calling "specialinis").
5 comments
Read more

It's what's for dinner

One of the things that I failed to appreciate about my mom until I left home is that she always made dinner (although I think we called it supper then), by which I mean, something hot, usually involving a vegetable. I don't remember my mom ever saying sheepishly to her hungry spouse and offspring, "I don't feel like cooking, how about a bowl of cereal?" I hate making dinner. Haaate it. It's my least favorite chore. It's not necessarily because I can't cook. I can usually manage to create something edible, although I have yet to perfect the science of getting, say, the chicken and the broccoli and the rice and the rolls all ready at the same time. (There are those among you who may be surprised that I make and serve broccoli. It's true! It's best when roasted: Toss with olive oil and salt, spread on a baking sheet, put in 400 degree oven for about 8 minutes. It's delicious! Delicious as broccoli can be, at least.) It's also not necessarily t...
6 comments
Read more

the closet

Amy has challenged me to list 8 things that are hidden in the back of my closet. I try not to actually look to closely at the back of my closet, so these are my closest guesses: 1. At least three no-longer-needed diaper bags. 2. An outfit that I've been meaning to return to Land's End for at least six months now. 3. One of our wedding pictures, which has a broken frame which I keep meaning to replace. 4. Shoes, shoes, shoes, shoes. 5. Possibly a pair of fuzzy slippers. I miss those fuzzy slippers. Maybe I should brave the mess and go try to find them. 6. Baby blankets. 7. A few small toys that I meant to stick in the girls' Christmas stockings. Maybe next year. 8. And I'm guessing, a bunch of mismatched socks. My closet isn't very interesting, I'm afraid.
1 comment
Read more