The Loss Of A Child - The Wound That Never Heals

The loss of a child, regardless of the age, is a wound that never heals. Filled with shock, denial, anger,and total emptiness, the wound that penetrates deep into the heart continues to fester week after week, month after month and year after year.

There is no resolution, only the feeling of finality. Only one question permeates the entire being. Why, why, why? There is no reason - no answers to comfort the bleeding heart. No words to comfort the sting of flowing tears.

My oldest son lost his battle with cancer a few years ago leaving 4 small children alone and broken and me, his mother, with the worst pain of all. What you are about to read is a poem...a humble attempt to describe my feelings about my own loss and the pain of coping at the worst time of my life. I now understand the full meaning of the phrase "no parent should out-live their children."

It's been 6 years now since Todd took his last breath. I still can't bear to look at his photos. Even after all this time it just hurts too much. Does "time heal all wounds" apply to everyone? I have to say NO. Perhaps for some this is true. For me, my wounds are as deep now as that night I gazed at my son's lifeless body, for the final time still wearing his "Laker's" shirt.

The empty tree stands bare, stripped of all its leaves

Alone and naked

Just one lone tree on the edge of a cliff

Its roots deeply implanted within mother earth,

Tangled and exposed to the elements …hanging on

Cold and empty

Where is the sun? It is gone never to return

The warmth and glow of another time

Gone forever

 

The ocean stretches its arms out wide

 

It houses the ashes of another time,

 

The heart cries out…the tree trembles its tears

 

Every branch , filled with pain ripping like splinters

 

 

 

Without its leaves how will it breathe

 

The night brings sleep and a way to escape

 

Black and deep…a massive hole filled with sorrow

 

The wind declares its power, the tree breaks its limb

 

It can never be replaced.

 

 

 Broken and battered the bark of the tree deceives itself

 

Imaginary leaves replace what was lost

 

What will become of the innocent statue that once would sing

 

Each note drifted away with what was once a beautiful melody.

It is my hope that by sharing my own private feelings that somehow, someway, someone may find support during their grief and pain. Losing a child is beyond understanding, beyond all comprehension. How does one fill the hole that is left in the heart?

The pain that flows through life's blood is buried deep inside the empty, lonely cavern. When it finally surfaces, and it does from time to time, emotions range in a kaleidoscope of shapes and colors. Tears take on a life-of-its-own until finally the mind and body give in to exhaustion. Then, finally, sleep will come at long last.

Oh, to be able to reach out and touch the child just one more time. Just once more please.