By Brooke Cunningham
Having lived here for over four decades, I am very sensitive to this integrated cloud of grief hanging over our hearts in this amazing sharing community in the last month. I lost a son myself, Bradley Wallace Cunningham. In honor of him and the love we shared for 18 years, I have learned to stand in the pain with other parents facing the shocking trauma of such loss. There is no cure, no magic pill to “fix” the bone-crushing anguish that sets in, but you will find peace in the chaos and you are not alone.
People say all kinds of things to you after you lose a child. Many are simply the words of people who have not been there trying to be comforting, but one person said something that stays in my heart. He said, “Try to remember that the love that you shared is not measured in any way by the length of your suffering.” I immediately thought about how my wonderful boy would feel if I spent the rest of my life suffering at his loss. Doing grief counseling is personally painful; it makes me feel as if I lost Brad yesterday, but I do it in his honor because he and I have learned about this together and it is a way we can join together to help other parents newer on this path.
I have learned that it is an entirely unique path, distinct for each individual; the only commonality is that hollow middle-of-the-night empty howling in your heart. Over the years though I have learned something from each parent and there are some bits of wisdom which can help you find a place to stand in this soul-shredding chaos.
One really helpful comfort is to find a photo you have of that most loved face and then have it enlarged to life size. Pick one where those wonderful eyes are looking right into yours, one where you can see the love. Then put that life-size face somewhere, everywhere, so you will see it often, so that you can look into those familiar eyes and express your love, your missing, your anger at being left behind, your guilt at something left unsaid or misunderstood, or simply cry. Share your grief because in your heart you know your child is grieving for you too. There arises a companionship that soothes your heart, a two-way connection with that most loved face and an understanding that you both can share.
Now you wake up each day and this stabbing loss is your first thought, but I promise you that the day will come when it is your second thought.
This is the beginning of peace in your heart. You will never be the person you were before you lost your child, but you will be OK. You will learn to carry the love along with the loss in your heart and you will learn to move forward. Your child can no longer feel the sun on his or her face in the spring or smell the incoming snow, so do it for them.
Send your child the sight of a beautiful moon and the way it reflects on the river. It will certainly make you cry, but it is something you can give to your well-loved spirit. The things bring me to tears still, but I consider that the price of my continued loving and honoring of my amazing child.
If you come into my office, you will see a photo of Brad at 18 and looking at that beloved face continues to warm my heart. After 15 years I can now smile into those beautiful blue eyes I know so well and thank him for his time, his love and the lessons we learned as we grew together. This loss, this missing, will never go away and for myself I have never wanted it to be gone. There is something too finished in that, and I don’t want it ever finished.
I drew this artwork for Brad but really to soothe my own heart. This is truly my belief about my son and myself, I hope it brings you comfort. If you would like a print out, let me know. Brad and I would consider it an honor to make you one.
Cunningham lives in Waitsfield.
