I’ve been an empty nester for two years now and completely understand the loneliness and worry of all the bloggers here. To add to this already depressing state, my precious 2 ½ year old grandson (from my oldest child [a son] who had two children and one on the way), was tortured and murdered by his mother, my son’s fiancé. I have spent the last seven months of these past two years, not only missing my children and those innocent years of their childhood, but grieving the horrific, senseless loss of such an innocent, perfect soul whom I loved so deeply as well. Reading the posted stories here led me to wanting to share just how I have gotten through it all with the hope that maybe this will help some of you. Early after my youngest child (a daughter) was gone, I too cried and cried. I felt as though no one could know or understand how badly I hurt or how very much I missed both my daughters. Then one day months later as I cleaned out a file cabinet in my office, I came across a poem I had saved several years before that helped me come to more of an acceptance of the real role I play in my children’s lives. The poem follows, but I’ll tell you too how I have managed to get through the grief of losing my grandson since even though it was a loss through death, it was none the less a loss of a child, therefore relevant to the grieving associated with being an empty nester as well. I started writing in a spiral notebook, pouring my heart onto the page. From the beginning through the shock and horror of it all, through the gut wrenching tasks associated with planning his funeral and burying him, right to the present day. (I think I’m writing a book). My point is that writing my feelings down and then later being able to reflect on them as I made my way through the stages of grief, back and forth through many of them, helped me find my place of acceptance. It will always be a tragedy, but I have a very strong faith and know that not only will I get through all of this, but that my beautiful grandson is now home where he belongs and finally safe. Remember that loss of any kind comes with a grieving process that we will go through whether we are aware of it or not. Being aware however, of each stage as we go through it and understanding why we feel the way we do, can make the process a little easier to bear. That’s where writing and later reading my writing helped me. I hope that I have been some encouragement to anyone who feels lost in their grief. I found that even a little support and encouragement was helpful in these sad times.
This poem is a by author (poet and philosopher) Kahlil Gibran (1883-1931) from his book “The Prophet” published in 1923.
And a woman who held a babe against her bosom said,
“Speak to us of children”.
And he said:
Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
They come through you but are not from you.
And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls.
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent
forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite and
he bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves also the bow that is stable.
God bless you all with the comfort you seek.
