How does it feel?

WARNING: this will NOT be the most cheerful post. I mentioned in the “ABOUT” section that this would be a record of our life with and, sadly, without Randy. So today, I’m going to post about the “without” part because unless you’ve been through the loss of a child, you have NO IDEA. I want to shed some light on this area, since I now have experience here….

Firstly, please stop trying to find the “right thing” to say…there isn’t any. You can’t help us with your words, no matter how beautiful or eloquent they may be. Unless you can bring him back with some magical spell you’ve been saving for a rainy day, just don’t. And painting a picture of him floating around on a fluffy cloud with my favorite aunt doesn’t help. I want him here with us, and no paradise scenario is going to make his loss feel any better. Sadly, there are still people that try to find what they consider “comforting” words. Again, there aren’t any. Randy is gone, and nothing you or anyone else on this earth can say or do will change that. I don’t say any of this to be rude or mean, but people can honestly say some of the most horrible things, thinking they are helping. All you can do is say “I love you” and “I’m here for you if need me”, but that’s pretty much it. I appreciate each and every one of you who doesn’t like seeing us suffer…..but we are. That’s the sad reality of where we now find ourselves. Believe it or not, we have actually heard someone tell us that “it’s a part of life – get over it!”. I won’t publicly say who said that to me and Randy’s mother, but they said that stupidity not even a full 48 hours after he passed! This individual is the poster child for ignorance, but I’ll leave her name out of this post.

That last bit brings me to the second part of this post….how does it feel?

The best thing to do is to try and “move on”, right? Well, let me explain my feelings on that in greater detail. You see, losing your child is unlike any other pain. I’ve experienced loss, but NOTHING on this magnitude. So when people suggest that we “have to move on”, I want you (the reader) to understand this situation as best as I can explain it. Moving on is fine when you lose a job or a relationship. Trying to move on when you lose a child is not even in the same universe as either of those. Losing a child is more like having a body part amputated. And when I say a body part, I’m talking about something big, like say your leg, all the way up to your pelvis. Not in a nice hospital setting, either. Imagine being on a battlefield in a war, and a field doctor has to amputate using a local anesthetic and a saw for getting through the bone. Once the cutting is done, all you have left is a grotesque bloody stump. You’re slightly dazed, but aware enough to know you’ve just been through some serious trauma. And that is now your new normal. It never fully heals. Sometimes, it’s still going to bleed; sometimes, it’s just going to hurt a lot. But one thing is definite – nothing you do can change the fact that a part of you is now gone forever. Your leg isn’t going to re-grow, and no prosthetic leg is ever going to replace your real one. You have been permanently altered. A piece of you is gone, and it’s not coming back….

So, tell me again how I’m supposed to just “move on”? Because in my mind, you don’t. All you can do now is hobble through your life, remembering what having 2 legs felt like, but looking down and seeing it gone. Your new normal is learning to live life without it….without a piece of yourself….THAT, my friends, is what losing a child has felt like to me. I lost a very significant piece of myself. You don’t just “move on” from that….