I know I've touched on this subject before, but for some reason (likely the unprecedented nature of the current school process) this year is just a little harder. This post is for myself, as always, but also for those who struggle with this particular step in the child loss world.
For those of you who can't open Facebook right now because you can't see one more post about someone's "baby leaving for kindergarten" or that their "chest feels tense" as their son or daughter goes off to college, I see you. I see your pain. I see your loneliness. I see your attempts at fitting in to the social norm of parenting.
Let me clarify to those of my friends and family who don't know this pain. This post is not specifically about you. It's not about anyone in particular. And it's totally normal and even OK for you to feel those feelings as your child "leaves" you. However, what is equally ok, and much less represented is the feeling of those parents that have suffered child loss. That's why this post is therapeutic for me. I NEED for my feelings to be known too, and not because I need reassurance or some kind of weird apology from someone whose children are still here. I need it because these are the feelings that connect me to my child. And I miss him. My god, do I miss him.
I will never reluctantly let go of my son's hand as he takes his toothless grin and oversized backpack into his first day of school. I will never feel the pull in my heart at both wanting him to flourish in college, while silently begging him to stay. Those are feelings that were taken from me when he took his last breath. That's the thing with child loss...you can't possibly know all the ways in which your child will "leave" you in that first moment after he's gone. Instead you learn that every day for the rest of your life. I would literally give anything for the burning in my chest to be there because instead of waking up with him in my house, I'd have to drive or even fly a few hours to see him. What I wouldn't give to be able to make THAT flight. And that doesn't diminish your pain or feelings of loss if your child is still here. They're valid, and noteworthy of course. But mine matter, too. And they cannot be commemorated in a fb post with a picture of a happy, healthy child doing exactly what is supposed to happen as children grow.
Covid doesn't make this any easier, because of course everyone is fearful for their children to return to school, and I completely understand that. We have no idea what truly is or is not safe. However, as the parent of a chronically ill child, I look around and think, "this was my life for two years." There was potential danger around every corner. There were IMPOSSIBLE decisions, up until the very last decision I made. That one will haunt me for the rest of my life. And because of that time in my life, there was no first day of kindergarten. There will be no heart-gripping first day of college.
So E, I'm sorry that you didn't get squeaky new shoes this year. I'm sorry that I didn't have to find you the perfect mask to match your bookbag. I'm sorry that while your classmates run and play, that you are remembered with an empty chair.
It is difficult to send your baby to kindergarten for the first time. It is hard to see your grown child heading off to college. Forgive my broken heart when I say that these hardships are gifts, perhaps some of the greatest gifts you'll ever receive. Because as many tears as you will shed over these moments, the most painful and cruel tears a parent can experience are the ones that never get the chance to fall....
