But tonight I'm gonna tell you something, my people. I'm gonna tell you that I will not, ever, quit fighting against the people who want me to pipe down about how child loss affects us. I won't ever stop telling them that the loss of a parent is nothing like losing your child. I won't ever understand how it could possibly have any room in a conversation about losing your baby. You didn't grow your parent inside you. You didn't give birth to your parent. You didn't feel your parent kicking your ribs. You didn't watch your parent grow up and watch them take their first steps and hear their first words and list them in with the rest of your kids. They aren't similar in any way except that they both have "they died" attached. And to try to convince anybody to think you know what it's like by talking about your gone parent is only proving that you honestly have no idea what you're talking about. I've seen it, I've heard it, and I won't ever stop saying it's wrong.
I won't ever stop fighting to allow all parents to grieve how they want to. They should be allowed time and space for whatever feelings they have. They should be listened to and their words should be heard. They should never be written off just because the listener doesn't like what they hear. They should be able to say what they feel exactly how they feel like saying it whether or not the listener likes it, because if you actually care, you care. You don't get to pass judgement if they actually open up to you and tell you how they feel. It wasn't a feeling they decided to put on the table to be scrutinized and picked apart, it was a feeling they had and if you don't like it then you got the problem not them. It isn't for you to agree with, it's for you to listen to and maybe gain some insight and wisdom from. If that's a possibility.
I won't ever stop fighting against stupid platitudes and old worthless, mindless speeches. Well, I will when I'm dead, but not before. Unless that is, people finally stop using them and picking apart someone's personal grieving process and handing out mass self-centered conviction speeches. I won't ever stop saying that there is a difference between being well meaning and actually meaning well. Hint: if a person means well you won't have any hurt caused by them in any shape or form. There will be no need for explanations of things said or done that made you wanna curl in a ball and die or kick the shit out of the speechifier.
I'm not gonna stop talking just because the person I'm talking to wants to deliberately misunderstand every word that comes out of my mouth for reasons known only to them. I won't. I'm gonna keep writing and feeling and when I'm done doing that, I'll write about my feeling. I'll write for those who can't say what I say and I'll write for me and I'll write for those who feel less alone when they see that somebody else actually feels like they do. I'll write the stuff I'm asked to write and I'll say the things I'm asked to say and I'll be here as long as anybody wants to talk to me about how they feel. I'll keep writing as long as I'm told I'm wrong for feeling what I'm feeling, and I'll keep writing until I figure out what I should put in the book I'm told by so many people that I should write, and then I'll write that.
I'll keep hunting the globe for the vague "people who don't agree with me" that are apparently out there someplace waiting longingly for me to come talk to them so I can hear what they have to say to disagree with me. Not sure what that's about but I've been told many times they're out there, it just seems kinda hard to actually find them. Anybody wanna volunteer to set me straight on everything I think? It's been implied hundreds of times to me that I don't know diddly about most stuff, losing kids being only one of the things.
But, lest you think I have an arsenal of folks lined up waiting to tell me my opinions and feelings and readings and conversations I've had and conclusions I've come to with other grieving parents count for naught, don't worry. I've only found one so far that is convinced I'm the only person on the face of the earth that thinks what I think and feels how I feel and it's their job to set me on some straight and narrow way that leads I know not where. Can't convince them that I'm not a singular 1,000,000 candlepower spotlight on a hill quite yet, but I'll keep writing and reading and talking for all of you who feel the same as me. I promise.
One last thing though. Please have a name when you finally come to disagree, so I can have an actual conversation with you, instead of being a unmuzzled idle-headed mumble-news* and calling yourself anonymous. And always remember, lest you come across as being a earth-vexing moldwarp*:
Never think that you have learned
All there is to know
That's the surest way of all
Ignorance to show.
*Taken from the Shakespeare Insult Kit. Combination 7,642 of the approximate 48,000 available.
First of all, (((hugs))) from Texas. (Lady, you know I am right there with you.) Second, ANYONE who has taken the time to read anything you write should know you do know what you are talking about. As you know, I have lost both a parent and children. The loss is not comparable. I loved my mother here on earth for 30 years of my life and now have loved her for 13 from afar. My mother was the most special woman I have ever met. She was kind, forgiving, nurturing, and loved all she met. She was my best friend, the sister I never had, my greatest cheerleader, my mommy, my mother, my mom. She was the closest I've ever met to a Proverbs 31 woman. Only one person has ever told me how to grieve her when she passed. That very moment I heard those words come out of his mouth, I knew he was wrong and I spoke up. I also knew NO ONE was ever going to get to even think they were going to tell me how to feel because that is wrong. The year prior my Granny died. I watched my mom grieve for her mom, as did I. Our grief was similar, but still not the same. The year after my mom passed I had my first miscarriage. I could not believe how people thought I overreacted in my grief. I was constantly told how to act, how I should grieve, how I needed to get over it. MY.BABY.DIED. I didn't know how to feel and I certainly didn't understand how someone else could think they had the right to tell me something I didn't understand myself. From the moment of the first split second I saw the positive line I had that baby already nursing at my breast in my mind. Then he/she was crawling, walking, running, playing with their big brother. By the time a couple of weeks had passed and I had the first symptoms something was wrong, I had thought through every cinerio of childhood and beyond. All of my hopes, dreams, and aspirations were ripped from my heart and threw my life into hell on earth. And then people who I loved (and some I didn't) had the audacity to tell ME my grief was wrong? Three more times I went through this. With all six of my losses (Granny, Mom, and my babies) society gave me 10 days to grieve. Yep, it's always been 10 days and then I was forgotten in my grief while they all went along with their lives. I sit here remembering every one. I know the dates, where I was, every ugly detail, but I get 10 days. Yet, if I talk about my Granny or Mom I it's ok. I get a few hugs and someone will listen and care. Not with my babies, unless it is someone very close to me or who gets infant loss. I will never understand. Ronda, I am proud you are the voice on earth for our babies. I am proud you are also the voice for us angel moms. Most of all, I am proud to call you my friend. And anyone who thinks you are an idiot or doesn't think you know what you're talking about truly doesn't know what love looks like. <3 ya Lady!
ReplyDeleteLove you Becky!!
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