The Grieving Child
This photo was two months after Luijoe’s death. Here are my two daughters in their early teens about to release balloons on Luijoe’s 7th birth Anniversary. The sunny skies greeted us as we celebrated that day with balloons, his favorite gummy bear, flowers , candles and incense sticks. All of us signed something on the smiley balloon by Luijoe’s grave. As I look at this photo, I could not imagine my children’s grief until many years after. This was how Lauren expressed her grief 3 years after the death of her brother:
Everyone has their own way of dealing with grief. I chose to deal with my sadness through writing down what I felt in my journal. I suppose I could have talked to my friends about it, but I knew in my heart that they could not comprehend the magnitude of my sorrow and guilt unless they themselves have experienced death, which they haven’t.
During my bereavement, one thing that exasperated me was when people would tell me things like, ‘At least your brother is an angel in heaven now.’ Though I know they meant well by these attempts to comfort me, I did not want to picture Luijoe hovering in and out of the clouds with a pair of wings and a halo. I wanted him to be alive, to be as annoying as little brothers are; anywhere but inside a wooden casket buried six feet under a fine carpet of Bermuda grass.
Grief is a never-ending process. The beautiful thing about grieving is that even though you will never get over the death of your loved one, you will learn to move on and live without that person. Death like any great wound leaves a scar that will heal with time. But the mark will always remain, and so will the memories of your loved one.