Angelic Journey

Karen Nolan Rose By Karen Nolan Rose, 15th Oct 2013 | Follow this author | RSS Feed
Posted in Wikinut>Family>Bereavement

Losing a child is beyond any one word description, sharing the loss with others helps heal not one, but many.

Loss of a child

Grief by my definition is this:
G Gruesome
R Raging
I Invasive
E Empty
F Feeling
When a woman is forced to endure grief, it consumes her, especially when the person is a child. What is a parent of a small child supposed to think, feel or say? People around them mean well, but most in their direct circles have not a clue what the experience is like. It isn’t the manor of demise so much as the demise itself. At first you cry, you scream, “It cannot be true.” Than as if in a trance you sit in resolve facing a wall asking yourself, “What do I do now?” Your heart is empty and raging at the same time. Too many emotions are invading your heart, mind and body leaving you with an empty desolate feeling. “If only,” become the two most used words in your vocabulary as your mind races through the events at hyper speed trying to untangle the day you’re forced to be in.
I am not a psychologist, but I am a mother who has lost a six year old child. When I say “others” mean well with no understanding, I mean those outside our twisted painful clique. These people try to comfort (some may actually get in) but all the food, “I’m sorrys,” don’t fill the deep growing void created in the middle of your heart.
Your arms ache, your body craves a scent remembered all too briefly. The just bathed scent of over wet hair, fresh too small pajamas dampened and sticking to parts of skin missed by the brisk brush of the towel begins invading your mind. Your eyes look to the bathroom floor wanting it wet again; dirty clothes on the floor piled in the corner with a promise to not leave them there again. You look and wonder, “How did I get in the bathroom?” At that very moment a friend comes to collect you with a look sadder than you have ever seen before in any one’s eyes. Chatter gets louder as people seem to multiply talking to you, yet, you don’t hear a word. Someone comes at you with crashing finality; the next step.
Planning a funeral, what color casket, what lining, what church, what service, where’s the burial to be, who’s officiating, who’s a pall bearer making you realize that the casket will be so small; someone sucks the air out of you. Emotions too many, questions even more ramble in your brain as you’re steered many different ways. Moments become hours, hours have turned into days. “Have I showered? Who dressed me? Did I put these clothes on?”
The “final” day arrives, every muscle, nerve and tendon is numb in your body. Outside you may be crying, but inside you are made of pure liquid. Too much is going on, so many people, so many friends yet you truly can barely name but two of them. Sitting under a tarp looking at a little shiny box with your hands folded in your lap, you try and decipher how all this happened. “If only,” attacks your thought processes once again.
“God, are you there? Do you know what just happened?” “Where were you that you allowed this to happen?”
You see movement, people shuffling about, flowers too numerous to count and you stand.
“What now?” The only words your mind allows you to speak.
Whether you have other children or not, (I had two others) nothing is going to undo the damage to your heart or repair it. It would be nice if a magic potion or surgery could fix that dark gnashing hole, but nothing is out there even remotely close to solving the pain………except:
You truly meet God for the first time, even if you knew Him before, you begin to have a serious conversation. Short bursts of “why” to lengthy, “How could you let this happen.” Next, you experience sorrow both for your thoughts, words and actions. If you had an upbringing in religion, you’re taught that God is a loving God. If this were true, “Why did this have to happen? We loved our child, if you are a god of love, why do I hurt so much?” Over and over you question these same questions. Sitting stiller than you ever have before, you wait. For what seems like hours, your mind replays verses in the bible:
Behold, children are a heritage from the LORD, the fruit of the womb a reward. Like arrows in the hand of a warrior are the children of one’s youth. Blessed is the man who fills his quiver with them! He shall not be put to shame when he speaks with his enemies in the gate.
(Psalms 127:3-5 ESV)
And when Esau lifted up his eyes and saw the women and children, he said, “Who are these with you?” Jacob said, “The children whom God has graciously given your servant.”
(Genesis 33:5 ESV)
He will tend his flock like a shepherd; he will gather the lambs in his arms; he will carry them in his bosom, and gently lead those that are with young. (John 14:1-3)
“Really God, did you not have something better to do that day than extract my baby to heaven? Am I supposed to listen to all my friends that tell me, “You won’t give me more than I can handle? Will you really heal my pain ‘in time’? I am so confused, lost and lonely. I need my baby back, what am I to do now, God, are you really there?”
God is truly a loving God and if you think beyond that it will cause stronger fear and deeper pain. “Let go, let God” really does work because if you let the negatives eat at you, it not only increases the devastating hole in your heart, it corrodes the hole allowing something dark to consume it. Billy Graham, the famous pastor phrased it so well many years ago, “Children are only on loan, they are truly gifts given to us to tend to for the time specified by the Lord.” That statement, although painful, eventually healed me.
Myself, it took five years to accept that God truly loved me and wanted to help me through the most tragic day of my life. I wouldn’t let him in. I had made up my mind I had done something terribly wrong and there was no way God loved me. Those five years were in another story, but the idea is faith and counselors helped me to see the reality. I learned and came to believe that my little angel was truly in the arms of God along with many other angels before him. There were no centers or groups that wanted to discuss their own journey until recently. It is still a difficult thing to get others to join me in their Angelic journeys, but I am positive the more that share outwardly their stories, it will help heal them along with us inwardly. It has been 32 years for me and although the pain is still fresh, it is much easier to bear. I would love for others to join in and share their stories as I said in the beginning. We are an elite group that can truly heal with the help of God and others who believe.
Who comforted us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort them which are in any trouble, by the comfort wherewith we ourselves are comforted of God. (2 Corinthians 1:4) King James Version
God Bless each and every parent whose angel is on a journey. It truly will get easier with time.

Tags

Emptiness, Family, Friendship, Grief, Healing, Loss

Meet the author

author avatar Karen Nolan Rose
I’m a Harley owner/rider, Registered Nurse, Writer, and am happily married. I love writing about everything and anything especially all that happens during the day concerning grandchildren and love

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Comments

author avatar Connie McKinney
15th Oct 2013 (#)

Karen, thanks for sharing such a powerful story. Even though it's been 32 years, you still grieve. So I am sorry for your loss. This story will likely help others facing the same issues.

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author avatar Fern Mc Costigan
15th Oct 2013 (#)

Karen he's still with you in spirit and cares for you wherever you are! May god bless his soul!

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author avatar Karen Nolan Rose
15th Oct 2013 (#)

Thank you both Connie and Fern. I know he is still with me, but everytime a child is taken from this earth in a violent way, the pain returns fiercly.

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author avatar Lady Aiyanna
15th Oct 2013 (#)

How did your child die, I am sorry I know its being insensitive but it probably would help you in your healing process.
None the less a mother is always a mother for they never ever forget their children and at times fight for the justice to avenge the death of their child. Worked with many mothers who have lost their babies and provided them lyrical art to assuage their pain.

Sorry for your loss.

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author avatar Karen Nolan Rose
15th Oct 2013 (#)

He was kidnapped and murdered. Thank you for your kind thoughts.

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8th Sep 2017 (#)

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