Living Through the Grief of Losing a Child

“We expect our parents and grandparents to pass before us, it’s the natural order of things,” Albert says. “When someone loses a child, it’s like going against nature, we lose our assumptions about how life will operate.”

Losing my daughter was like a nuclear bomb going off and shredding us, sending our family off in scattered, confusing directions. It happens whether the death is sudden or expected after a long illness. I hunkered down in self-destruct mode for at least two years until I snapped out of it to be more present for my other three children, whom I was dreadfully worried about (true confession — still am) and wanted to place in a protective snow globe so no harm would ever come to them. I became a helicopter parent, times 10. And I’m still working on that.

“It doesn’t matter the age of the child, it’s a very deep grief that you carry with you, and it’s tied directly to the hopes you had for that child,” Albert says.

Remembering her joy

My hopes were that Nicole, a skillful ballet and tap dancer, would enjoy a dance career. My heart aches when I watch the Rockettes perform in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. She loved ’NSync, Mariah Carey, Eminem, Spice Girls and TLC. She and her best friend Meagan were always dressing up and singing Spice Girls songs at the top of their lungs. I summon a rebellious Eminem song and work out in the gym, not just to get some frustration out but to remember her love for the artist. When I’m wistful, it’s “MMMBop” by Hanson, one of her favorites. Justin Timberlake songs bring a smile to my face; she was crazy about him.

I dread the unwelcome but probably well-meaning conversation starters I get from strangers. “So, do you have children? How many?” Um, four, but one died. “Why aren’t you a grandparent by now?” Really? In this day and age when couples delay starting a family, 60 years old should automatically signal grandparent? Or feverishly giddy grandparents who nudge me to nudge my kids. “There’s nothing better in this world than being a grandparent.” So is my life worthless because I’m not a grandparent? I never broach this subject matter with others. “Grieving parents view life through the lens of loss,” Albert explains. People don’t realize how insensitive and invasive those questions can be. Albert advises having a ready-made statement prepared so you’re not caught off guard. “It takes the stress out of the situation, and you control the conversation that way,” she says.

Grief is messy but natural

I deeply appreciate the empathy bestowed by others, texted memories shared with Meagan, her mother carrying a bridesmaid bouquet for Nicole when she got married, or the blue charm bracelet Meagan gave me when she had her firstborn. It’s one thing for grieving parents to remember, but it takes it to a whole other level when others do. Or when they allow us to vent and be real.

“It’s comforting to be with people who allow you to be authentic and are not afraid or judgmental of your reactions and emotions,” Albert explains. Sometimes you need to feel sad and angry. It’s emotional, physical, spiritual — grief is every part of who we are as human beings. No two people grieve the same. Many find a tangible way to mark the significance of their child’s life, which helps us to continue those bonds and remember them, Albert says. I will launch a college scholarship on Nicole’s 40th birthday for fine arts and dance majors who have a parent or parents with disabilities. My husband and I are both disabled. The scholarship will enable another child from a struggling family to go further in life and pursue their passion for the arts.

Grief isn’t linear. It doesn’t progress neatly in sequential order through stages. Grief is messy, and it evolves. There are times I can tiptoe at the water’s edge and move through life as though everything is normal, and there are times when that unexpected wave of grief crests and crashes over me, dragging me into the surf to drown me. “It’s more like a grief wheel that goes forward and backward, it’s very fluid,” Albert says. 

Bottom line: Grief is natural, it’s a part of living. “It’s like a mirror. Grief is a direct reflection of love,” Albert says. Child loss is scary and goes beyond what most of us are equipped to cope with. Don’t be afraid to reach out and support those who’ve lost a child, even if it’s been decades. And please let them be real.