Grief Connections

The other day I had to take a shuttle home, as my car was in the shop. The driver started to make small talk, and of course, the inevitable question - do I have children.

I confess, I hid the truth from him. I told him simply that I had a son, and yes he had graduated and yes he was a wonderful son.

When I tell people that my son has died, the conversation takes one of two directions. Either the person gets uncomfortable and changes the subject, or the person gets uncomfortable and try’s to give comfort. Neither works. It is not their fault. It is just not an easy thing to hear and it is damn sure not easily understood.

So I hid the truth.

But then I realized, I hid the truth for another reason. Because I would never see this person again. I don’t want to share my feelings with a stranger. And I don’t want to feel awkward when discussing my son. And my grief has become very private.

When I mourn for CJ, a little bit or a lot, everyday, it brings me close to him. It is not for others to share. It is not for strangers to know.

If anyone wants to share their stories and their joy with me, about my son, I revel in it. If anyone wants to share their grief with me, I will share back. I will always be there for all who think of him and miss him. And in doing the sharing, it gives me strength to endure.

But my grief. My daily pain. It’s mine. And you may never understand, but it connects me to CJ, and helps me make it through another day.