Anticipatory Grief

This year has been filled with grief. Another child we know who has special needs died this week. He and his family live in our area.

Whenever a kiddo with medical needs (like Zane) dies, it moves those thoughts of death from the back of my mind (where they’re conveniently stored) to the very front. My brain races:

• How much time does Zane have left?
• Is something wrong with him that I can’t see?
• Does the seizure activity speak to a bigger, underlying medical condition that will ultimately take him?
• How will I handle it when I have to say goodbye?
• Will I handle it?
• And if I do, how can I possibly go on without him?

Or, I think, maybe I’ll die first and won’t have to deal with the pain of losing him. This prompts other thoughts:

• He can’t die without me. He needs me. What would he do without me?
• And what about Justin? I can’t leave him motherless either.

So I work hard to stay healthy and fit…so I don’t leave my kids without a mother.

Zane had a seizure earlier today. He was crying and tired. As I sat with him, stroking his back, I realized how very lucky I am. He’s still here! Not only that, how absolutely fortunate am I to be living on this planet at the same time he is? And to be his mother nonetheless. So no matter how short his time is here on Earth (or mine), I at least felt somewhat better knowing that I get to share a chunk of my life with him. It doesn’t ever take away those other thoughts. Ever. But it helps. A little.

So hug someone today: Your kids, a friend, a spouse or significant other. Do it! And be grateful you’re sharing time on this planet with them—even if it’s only for a little while.