Loss

Our local news ran a story yesterday morning about a 12-year old boy who died at a neighborhood park on Sunday.  My son is 12 and the park is near our home.  Many of his friends and classmates live even closer to the park.  The name of the boy was not initially released and we spent the morning wondering and worrying.  It seemed likely that we would know the family.

By mid-morning, we'd learned the name of the boy.  We did not know him or his family but we had mutual friends.  I felt no relief at the news that it was no one we knew.  Even though I don't know the family, I do know what it is like to lose a child.  I try not to imagine the despair and profound sadness that has gripped their home.  No, I don't know them, but I am so sorry for what they are going through.

This morning's newspaper had a story about the incident with a few more details about what happened.  A couple of boys playing.  A tragic accident.  It was the sort of story that frightens and saddens anyone who has a young child.  The newspaper also contained the obituary for the young boy.  It focused on the joy he'd brought to those around him - a very touching tribute.  Obituaries are the brave face we put on for the public.  Their concise and terse nature forces us to distill our grief into a few well chosen words.  In truth, if we were given the whole page, we likely would not be able to express how much this person will be missed.  Being forced to keep it short is actually a blessing of sorts.

A family grieves.  And even though I don't know them, I grieve with them.  If the parents are like me then I suspect they have celebrated watching their children change and grow.  First words, learning to walk, going to school, watching your child grow up is an exhilarating, wonderful process.  Now, it stops, and this is yet another source of pain.  We are programmed to track these stages in our kids.  If your child dies, it's difficult not to take note as their peers reach milestones.  It's the pain that keeps on giving.

I suspect that right now, this family is consumed with grief.  I am also confident that, over time, they will find a way to carry on.  They will not "get better" or "get over it".  They are changed.  As much as becoming a parent changes who you are, so does losing a child.  I pray that their friends and family will recognize this and support them through this difficult time.