Losing an Adult Child
I know people are silently saying, “OK enough already,” but
quite frankly this is the very reason I write.
I want everyone to see, to know, and to fully understand the impact
Jeff’s death has left...from a mother’s perspective. And the reason I want you all to understand is so
everybody will be able to react when someone within their own circle of friends
is a victim of grief. Everyone
will understand the change of behavior, the mood swings. Everyone will understand the griever’s disposition,
which will no doubt change like the tides of the ocean. You
will understand the devastating impact losing a child…losing an adult child has
on a parent.
Did you know there are societal differences, society itself
reacts differently when a parent loses an adult child, vs the loss of a baby or
a younger child? I write about my own experience…
The department I work for is very large, and is a sub-department
of the College of Education (COE). A
year ago when Jeff died the only support I received from work was from my two immediate
supervisors, well they supported me at work once I returned anyway. But when Jeff initially died I did not hear one word from them, not one word. During the few weeks I was
away from work not one word of sympathy from anyone in our department…not the
director, not the associate director, not the business manager…not the dean…no
one person from my department. For the funeral I did receive
flowers from the COE (with a note that read “College of Education,)” but
received no cards of sympathy from my department. And no one from my work came to the
funeral…not one person, not even my supervisors. On the other hand, there were about a half dozen of my daughter's co-workers at the funeral supporting her for the loss of her brother. About a week or more after Jeff died one of my supervisors did stop by my house with dinner. When I returned to work I received a hug from
a co-worker. Nothing more. A week or two after I returned to work, a
co-worker/friend lost a baby. The
department was all over it. Emails sent
to the entire department, flowers, everybody
went to the funeral, cards, t-shirts made, etc., etc., etc. All because she lost a newborn baby, not an
adult child. A newborn baby…who never
took one breath of air.
When children are
babies, they rely on their parents 100 percent for their every need. Which is why society sees the death differently. The baby died innocent, never had time to
make memories for their parents, and never had time to experience any kind of
life. Thus people feel more compassion
for this loss, this innocent loss.
The older the child becomes the less they depend on their
parents and the more they become an independent person. By the time they are adults the relationship
is more than parent-child...the relationship is not only that of parent-child
but also of a very close friendship.
Many times, the parent and child have become best friends. This would especially be true if the parent
has already lost a spouse. More likely
than not the remaining parent and child/ren will likely be closer still. So if a parent loses an adult child they not
only lose their child they have also lost a close friend, a confidant, an adviser,
a buddy, etc. Thus the emotions of
losing an adult child are so much more intense. However society views
this type of death as an early death.
They forget that this adult was still someone’s child. They shrug it off by saying or thinking…
...but at least they lived as long as they did
…at least they lived long enough to experience a family
…at lease they are no longer in pain
…at lease…etc, etc, etc.
I came across an
article titled ‘Greiving the loss of a Child,’ which completely describes my
own loss.
“When an adult child dies, you not only lose a child, but
often a close friend, a link to grandchildren, and an irreplaceable source of
emotional and practical support. If you lost your only child, you may also feel
that you have lost your identity as a parent, and perhaps the possibility of
grandchildren. You should
expect that you will never really “get over” the death of your child, but you
will learn to live with the loss, making it a part of who you are. Your child’s
death may compel you to rethink your priorities and reexamine the meaning of
life. It may seem impossible, but you can go on to find happiness and purpose
in life again” (Cancer.Net).
"Many parents have observed that their relationship with
their adult child had evolved into one of friendship. Not only do they feel
they have lost their child—they have lost a friend, often their best friend. Parents who have loved, reared, and encouraged
their child’s development into maturity and a full life of their own, feel a
sense of pride and accomplishment as the adult child completes his or her
education, establishes a career, and develops adult relationships. By the time
a child has reached adulthood, parents have made an immense emotional and
financial investment in this person. Parents often question their own purpose in
life, since everything they invested in their child now seems for naught. Discounted grief also occurs when the adult
child dies from a cause that makes others uncomfortable or judgmental”
(2008-2009 The Compassionate Friends USA).
I believe this is where I am now in my life. I have accepted Jeff’s death and am now
trying to figure out this new life of mine.
This life which has been forced upon me, to live without Jeff has been
an absolute nightmare. But I am learning
to cope with my daily emotions...and with my daily struggles. I am now learning to make decisions without
that person I had come to rely on for all advice. “Each of your children changes your life. They
show you new ways to love, new things to find joy in, and new ways look to at
the world. A part of each child's legacy is that the changes he or she brings
to your family continue after death. The memories of joyful moments you spent
with your child and the love you shared will live on and always be part of you”
(Cancer.Net). This is the one true
factor I have found...that Jeff will always be a part of me...of who I am...and
I was always a part of who he was. I don’t think I fully understood this until just recently...I have been working on a Memorial Garden for Jeff and for Steve. This garden has given me much time to think...to work out my emotions...to reflect...and to cry. I look back at my life as it was just a few years ago...and it completely takes me back in time, making me wonder what the hell happened? And why me? I am learning to try to stay away from those thoughts, those thoughts of longing for the past. They only bring me sorrow, so I try hard not to let myself dwell on these thoughts. Even though Jeff had siblings, half brothers and half sisters,..I was only pregnant once in my life. Jeff was my only child.
“When you lose an only
child, your parental responsibilities end, as well as your parental
gratifications. You must then contend with the total absence of your former
identity as a parent. There is intense
damage to your sense of self. You may wonder whether or not you can still call
yourself a parent. In addition, you may wonder to whom you will pass on your
name and your heirlooms. If your child
died young, you will never be a grandparent. There are no other children for
whom you can make a pretense of the holidays, or for whom you can force
yourself to go on. As a parent who loses
an only child, you face the same issues as any bereaved parent, but you must do
so in a vacuum of the parental role that is taken away with the death of the
one child you had. The loss is unlike
any other particularly because of the unique aspects of the parent-child
relationship, the unrealistic social expectations that accompany it, and the
fact that it often robs you of your most important source of support by
affecting your spouse as well. Unfortunately, most people fail to see its
critical differences from other losses and don’t understand that what is
abnormal in those cases may be quite typical in the parental loss of a child”
(AllPhyscologyCarreers.com/Loss of An Only Child).
My biggest struggle thus far was questioning my parenthood. Am I still a mother? This question I have asked myself over and over. I have come to become OK in my own answer to this question. I am who I am....a mother who has lost her only child. A mother, Jeff’s mother...and Tina’s step-mother. I have learned that grief is very powerful and a very trying event in our lives…in my life, but humans have an innate and very resilient nature to keep moving. So in spite of our sadness we will eventually come out of whatever depression we are in…some of us may take years to recover, while others need nearly no time at all to keep going forward.
I have come to find…in accepting Jeff’s death, I also accept the changes in my own personality…in my outlook of whatever life is ahead of me. I know I will never again see life as it once was. I know I will never again be as happy as I once was, but as a victim of grief…I am learning to adapt to this new life…this new life which is thus far filled with sorrow and ‘yes,’ some joy.
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