Today became one of those days interrupted by a sudden and overwhelming flood of regret and grief. A young man I know posted a picture on Facebook of himself holding his two-year-old son, and I couldn't stop the "Why did my son have to lose his father?" that welled up. It wasn't in anger. It was just... loss.
I suppose I was primed for it. This morning, Dev and I hung some new pictures, including a multi-frame collage of pictures of him and his father. Dev seemed really happy with it. It's me who keep tearing up over his loss.
And it seems we've watched more than a couple movies in the last few months that include a character arc of "Father does something incredible to save the say" or "Father returns to child's life after child achieves plot point X." It just gets tiring, after awhile, watching stories where the reward is a restored parent and/or parental support because, you know, Dev won't get that no matter what he does. He could figure out time travel, cure cancer, and bring all the nations of the world into joyful agreement—and his father (or ghost of his father) isn't coming back to tell him he's done a good job, to say all he had to do was really-deeply believe, to tell him he's proud.
Sigh. The fact those storylines so trouble me might indicate I have an Issue, yes?
I can't discount the time of year, either. We spent January and February in and out of the hospital as doctors confirmed the diagnosis three years ago. Geez. Three years.
As for Dev, he seems to be doing fine. In fact, he's so damned self-aware, it's frightening. He talks about his dad, what reminds him of his dad, what he misses about his dad. When he tears up, he acknowledges it for what it is. Sometimes, he'll talk of how he had a bad day because he wanted to talk to his dad, and couldn't.
I know, without a doubt, that Dev's emotional awareness and stability comes from the focused efforts of his father. I learned from the same person, but Dev learned earlier, easier, before life had scarred him all up. So now, watching Dev deal with grief over losing the very person who taught him how to deal with grief... There I go getting teary-eyed again.
I'm sorry this is so painful. I can understand a little, having lost my little brother: the grief just rises and catches you at times. Boom.
Thank you. And I am sorry for the loss of your brother.
Those moments do sometimes seem to come out of nowhere, yes. That moment of, "Oh. That's right. He is gone."
I'm so sorry. Grief takes a long time; it's okay to express it. I'm so glad you and Dev have each other; he sounds like such a remarkable young man.
It's true that his father is never coming back to tell him how proud he is. But it sounds like his father told him so often enough while he lived that Dev knows he would be proud of him; plus he has you there to remind him.
My daughter and I will both be living up to her grandmother's standards all our lives, because the greatest homage we can do to her memory is to be the kind of people she believed we could be.
*hugs* Peace to both your hearts.
Thank you. Dev is indeed remarkable.
The whole "parent is restored" storyline bothers me far, far, far more than it does Dev. He just... accepts that grief is a part of his life, and he seems to have no bitterness over it.
I'm the dysfunctional one here, the emotional cripple. I talk about it here so it doesn't bleed over into my relationship with Dev so much. He, like his father, is an instinctive caregiver, and it shouldn't be his job to "take care" of his mom's emotional ups and downs.
I'm really sorry. ::HUGS:: It's hard to lose someone, but it's even harder to watch your child lose his other parent.
Yes. Thank you. I keep reminding myself that I'm sometimes beings upset on Dev's behalf, even when Dev isn't upset!