Suffering the Loss of a Child

I said goodbye to Amanda the other day. The once vibrant young woman who was two weeks older than my daughter lay silent in the beautiful mahogany coffin, her body surrounded by lace. Looking at her, I couldn't help but think back on the many hours she had spent at our house playing with my daughter when they were both young. Amanda was a bit of tomboy while my daughter didn't care to get her hands dirty, yet, they would play for hours, and I'd smile as Amanda would let out one of her bellowing laughs over some little silly thing my daughter said. That wonderful laugh that was always so filled with life was silent now, and as I looked down into the pale body racked with disease, it broke my heart.

There is nothing more difficult as a parent than dealing with a child who has been diagnosed with a terminal illness. Your life becomes a roller coaster of hope and despair. You pray for that one treatment or medication to be discovered that will save your child from having death take them away from you. As your children grow into adults, you try to protect them from those things that will harm them, and if a terminal illness attacks them, you feel angry and betrayed. No parent wants to ever face the possibility of attending your own child's funeral.

Once you're a parent, your child never outgrows that fact. If your child hurts, you suffer pain. It's a lifelong commitment.

Dealing with a terrible illness on a day-to-day basis can take its toll on everyone in the family, but as a parent you've always tried to help your children, but when the illness has control, you get angry. You feel out of control and helpless. Although your heart is breaking on the inside, you try to maintain some normal environment for your child so that their world is not consumed with medications and treatments. Unlike many people who often mean well, it becomes your goal to show your child that we don't bury people who are still alive.

There are breakdown moments when you can hold in the tears no longer. You get it out of your system, and you go on because you have to support your child. These are important times for you because you know that if you keep suppressing these feelings of helplessness and frustration, it will destroy not only you but hurt other members of your family who are also struggling with their own emotional upheaval. Break something, throw something, scream. It's important to relieve the anger and pain.

Take what I call the breathing moments, those days when things are going well and hope is raising its head. Enjoy the rest and renew yourself during those times. It helps when the bleak days return.

I spoke with Amanda's mother a few days after the funeral. She talked of how glad she was that she had been able to spend her last few weeks with her, even though it was extremely difficult to watch her suffer. She told me of the loneliness and silence that was so loud now because of Amanda's absence. She said she was glad that Amanda had gone to sleep that night and finally found peace in the arms of her Lord. She said surrendering her child was the most difficult thing she's ever done.

I listened as Amanda's mother talked, and I wept with her. Although I tried to share words of comfort, I'm sure she had heard them all before. All I had to offer her was the concern and love of one parent to another and the hope that time will ease the pain of her loss.