bereaved child – Sunshine, Angels and Rainbows

13

After Benny died, we were warned about Darcy. She was only 4 and we were told that a traumatic event can seriously affect young children (especially those under age 5) for the rest of their lives. Because of this she is at higher risk of substance abuse and struggles from mental health. We were lucky that we had family that worked in social services to help point us in the right direction. And what the hell did we know, we were still in the trenches of our own grief.

I have spent 8 long years worrying about how the grief and trauma would shape my child. She was picked up by strangers from school and brought to a house covered in police tape and swarming with cops by a family member in shock. And then she’s told her brother is dead. That’s a lot for a 4 year old to process. That’s a lot for a grown adult to process.

I really hate that this is part of my daughter’s story. I lost my Mom at 16 and I struggle with the fact that she also has a juvenile loss. It just feels so unfair that she should know grief at such a young age.

When my Mom died, my Dad shut down. Alcoholism took over and he was shell of his former self for a long time. When Benny died I vowed that we wouldn’t do that to Darcy. I made my husband promise me that we wouldn’t fall apart to the point where we were no longer able to parent.

This may have backfired a bit where we held some stuff too close to try to protect Darcy, but we did the very best that we could. We had no idea what the hell we were doing. And grieving while parenting a grieving child is Fn hard. It’s undescribable. I have never felt so inadequate in all of my life. I couldn’t save her from what was hurting her, or even try to make it better. And I was in so much pain myself.

This girl gave us something to live for. She made getting out of bed every day bearable. Because she still needed us. She saved us in every sense of the word.

Today she is 13. And I look at her in awe of who she has become. Now I’m not naive enough to think that the road of teenage hood ahead of us won’t be hard. But this kid is pretty damn resilient.

The grief and the trauma have effected her, but not completely in all of the negative ways I was told. She still struggles with anxiety and probably always will (like her mama), but she has been taught coping mechanisms that have allowed her to live with it for now. If that changes, we will deal with it.

My bestie and I often joke that we ‘want to be like Darcy,’ when we grow up. In the last few years she has has grown into this amazingly, self assured young woman. She knows what she wants and what she doesn’t. She will not allow anything or anyone to hold her back. She is also the first to offer help, or to stand up for someone else. This girl is strong in her convictions and follows her conscience in all things. She sticks to her moral compass.

All I saw 8 years ago was questions about how we would all fare. I’ve spent so much time worrying about how this trauma would affect Darcy, meanwhile I feel it has given her perspective well beyond that of her peers. She seems to understand what’s important and what’s not. She is wise beyond her 13 years.

I’m really freaking proud of this girl who has gone through so much. She is my right hand girl in all things and so helpful with her siblings. She is always up for an adventure or some crazy scheme I’ve cooked up. She amazes me with her strength, her heart and her perseverance. Happy 13th Birthday Darcy Doodle.❤️

Raising Grieving Children

I was home with my little rainbows the other day when my four year old son came over to me with tears in his eyes. I was potty training with the 2 year old, which consists of whisking her through the house before she can pee on my carpet whilst she screams at me that she has to ‘go right now!’. So I’m in the middle of wiping butts and washing hands when her brother approaches me with big crocodile tears running down his cheeks.

‘What’s wrong buddy?’ I’m asking not really paying attention as I’m trying to clean up the mess his little sister made. ‘I really miss Benny. I’m sad that he died.’ he replies standing there clutching his big brothers picture in his hand.

It was as if someone punched me in the gut, or maybe more accurately, the heart. This beautiful child of mine never even met his older brother. He was born nearly 2 years after he died. It completely throws me when this little 4 year old has these very intense moments of loss.

Later in the day my son was talking about music and how sad music makes you feel your feelings, especially when someone dies. Then you cry. This little guy may be more emotionally mature than I am.

And what am I supposed to do with this? Never in a million years did I expect my rainbows to feel the loss of their brother they never knew this deeply. The whole thing is baffling and overwhelming. My older daughter who knew her brother has been in therapy for years and we’ve all been getting the help that we need. I guess I figured that Benny would be an abstract idea to these ‘after’ children.

Maybe it’s because we have pictures of Benny up all over the house. We talk about him and share stories. We celebrate his birthday and visit him in the cemetery. My children have been raised surrounded by tragedy and death and the realization that young people die too. It’s awful to even pen these words.

I wish I knew how to best handle these moments when they happen, or at least be able to be better prepared for them. But like most instances in parenting, it’s learning as you go.

So I got down on his level and hugged him tight. I told him that I was sorry that he missed his brother and it’s ok to be sad. I cried because it made me miss his brother too. It made me miss everything my boys never got to do together.

As I collected myself the kids became busy with Batman and my son had moved on. He accepted the fact that Benny was gone and he was ok with it, for now. I wish that I could be as resilient in grief as children are.

#thisischildloss

Darcy’s Song

I was thinking the other day about how many songs I was able to relate to Benny and his life and death. It really got me thinking. Does Darcy have a song? Is there something that stands out in my mind? Was there something that I used to sing to her.

This question plagued me for days. And then the other day ‘her song’ came on the radio. We were in the kitchen making dinner and I looked at her and said, ‘This! This is your song! This is what I used to sing to you when I put you to sleep!’ How could I ever forget?? Such an appropriate song if you know my daughter too!

I Hope You Dance