A common belief is that grief and bereavement kill all happiness. People who go through tragedy simply cannot be happy, right? I think that might be true for the darkest time after tragedy. I don’t want to put a length on this timeframe because this might feel different for everyone. This is a time when everything seems dark and without hope, the world is absolutely unfair and one cannot comprehend why it happened (and that will likely never change) and one might be angry at everyone and everything. Patience is running extremely low, nerves are blank. But people believe that this is normal because someone is grieving. However, common belief is as well that happiness will magically return at some stage, once one “is over it”. I have written a lot about this, but I have not yet tried to describe the actual feeling in a better way. My wife has done a pretty good job in her post titled “A smile and a tear” and my take on it goes along the same lines.
A more realistic description, at least for me, is that emotions are a lot closer together, overlap and change rapidly all the time. It is certainly not true that I cannot be happy even after losing both of our children. Of course our losses bring an immense amount of grief and sadness and I certainly do not have a similar positive outlook for the future that I had before. But at the same time I have found happiness in a lot of very little things. Maybe it would work to compare these levels of happiness to “life happiness” and “moment happiness”. On the small scale – in the moment – I would even say that I can appreciate a lot of things more that I previously would have just taken for granted. I can stop on the side of the road and appreciate the beauty of a small flower or smell the wonderful scent. Every single day I watch the hummingbirds in our garden and it brings me happiness. I just love these little birds. There is happiness right there. I do not exist in a happiness vacuum or an emotional black hole that sucks up all those feelings. What is difficult is how I perceive happiness and what it triggers. And I don’t think that this is a particular situation only for parents who lost a child. I believe this might apply in any grief situation, e.g. loss of a spouse, sibling, close friend or similar. I have noticed two things:
- Whenever there is a moment of happiness, there might be a moment of guilt. Guilt for having felt happy, guilt for thinking that it is not okay to be happy given the circumstances. Maybe this is even a result of such common belief that grief has to be a time without happiness.
- Moments of happiness can turn extremely quickly into moments of sadness. Actually, that is the wrong description. It does not turn, both emotions coexist. When I think about it, it even sounds logical. Most people I know want to share something joyous, an achievement or happiness with the people who are most important to them. Things would just not be as great if you had noone to share it with. And this is where loss and grief really hit home. Because we cannot share it with such a beloved person and that sucks.
Here is an example: our first son Marlon would be a little older than two years by now. He would be running around and explore this world. When I look at our hummingbirds, I can feel happiness. But then I might imagine how I would pick my son up, lift him up to see better and point out the beautiful birds to him. This moment would be so much more meaningful with him being there. And this is what hurts because it will never be this way except in my imagination.
We have not only lost our children, we have lost true, pure happiness – something often described as a state of naivity, or maybe even words such as carefree, pristine, unspoilt might do. This mental freedom one might have at a younger age when the reality of life has not caught up with us. For the rest of our lives our children are missing, a part of us is missing, and they cannot enjoy things together with us as a family. What is left to us is tainted happiness – the feeling of happiness infused with a sting of pain because we are not able to share magical moments.
“Though I experienced death, I also experienced life… not after the darkness, as we might suppose, but in the darkness. I did not go through pain and come out the other side; instead, I lived in it and found within that pain the grace to survive and eventually grow. I did not get over the loss of my loved ones; rather, I absorbed the loss into my life, like soil receives decaying matter, until it became a part of who I am. Sorrow took up permanent residence in my soul and enlarged it.” – Jerry Sittser
A touching piece.
Those that leave us will always be in our consciousness. I hope newexperiences will create new memories and new happiness for u both.
Nach dem Verlust von geliebten Menschen ist die Leichtigkeit von früher vorbei. Die gemeinsamen Träume sind geplatzt und die Zukunft sieht ab sofort anders aus.
Wenn man als Witwe allein bleibt, wird man 2 oder 3 mal eingeladen und kommt man dann nicht, wird man meistens vergessen. Geht man hin, fühlt man sich fehl am Platz, man fragt sich “was machts du hier eigentlich”. Es ist sehr schwierig.
Ich bin dann viel verreist und habe Ablenkung gesucht. War auch falsch, denn man hat immer den Partner vermisst, ein Gegenüber zum Erzählen, zum gemeinsamen Erleben und zum Lachen. Man ist gefangen in der Situation und dem Alleinsein. Und man hat ein schlechtes Gewissen, wenn man sich mal freut.
Verlierst du deine Kinder, verlierst du deine Zukunft, alle Pläne sind zerstört. Und es gibt keine Alternativen. Das Paar muss die Trauer, die Ängste, das Nichtbegreifen und Nichtverstehen des Geschehenen, die Wut auf das Schicksal und den Verlust tragen, es gibt kein Entrinnen. Man ist trotz einer Menge Menschen um einen herum einsam und verzweifelt, Irgendwann einmal wird man das Schicksal akzeptieren müssen, das dauert Jahre und der Schmerz bleibt für immer. Man richtet sich dann irgendwie sein Leben ein und lebt von Tag zu Tag, denn Pläne macht man nicht mehr. Wer Kinder hat, sollte sich immer klar darüber sein, dass sie das größte Geschenk sind.
Oma Maria
Just want to say, whenever I drop by, your & Kirsten’s blog helps me so much to understand my own feelings and grief. Thank you for doing this.
Sincerely,
Davis’s Mommy
That was excellent. Emotions run together in ways that I never would have imagined before. That’s one of the best descriptions that I’ve found yet.