"I Would Gladly Stay an Afterthought..."
Nov. 2nd, 2011 01:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
psalm_onethirtyoneThis summer, as I'm pretty sure I wrote, my advisor's son was killed by a drunk driver. I wrote him a card at the time to tell him how sorry I was; I didn't really know what to say (what do you say to a parent who's just lost his child?), but I had been working with a lot of people at the time who had lost children, and I wanted to say something.
He didn't say anything about it when I got back to school, so I really just assumed that he didn't want to -- I know when people comment on my really emotional posts I rarely know what to say, and usually end up not answering, but always being glad on the comfort that people offer, so I figured it was like that. He's mentioned his son once or twice in class, and I always feel sad, but certainly don't say anything.
Anyway, to-day I checked my mail for about the first time in a month, and there was a note from him thanking me. And he included a picture of the beach where they scattered his son's ashes. And I just stood there in the post office and cried, because -- I can't imagine. I can't imagine how big and terrible it would be. Scattering my grandparents' ashes was, in a way, easy to do, because they both lived long, full lives and I had plenty of time to make peace with their deaths. But to lose your oldest child right after he'd graduated from college, when you hadn't seen him in a year, and to have to give him back to the earth -- I just can't even begin to quantify how much grief you might feel. I just can't.
This kind of thing makes everything, especially me, feel really small. I wish I could do so much more to make things better, but my own power is so limited. In a way it makes me know that hospice is the right place for me, and in a way I feel bad even saying that because this isn't about me at all.
I guess what I wanted to say here was how moved I am that he took the time to write me a note and share the picture with me, which he didn't have to do at all, and I'm just so sorry.
He didn't say anything about it when I got back to school, so I really just assumed that he didn't want to -- I know when people comment on my really emotional posts I rarely know what to say, and usually end up not answering, but always being glad on the comfort that people offer, so I figured it was like that. He's mentioned his son once or twice in class, and I always feel sad, but certainly don't say anything.
Anyway, to-day I checked my mail for about the first time in a month, and there was a note from him thanking me. And he included a picture of the beach where they scattered his son's ashes. And I just stood there in the post office and cried, because -- I can't imagine. I can't imagine how big and terrible it would be. Scattering my grandparents' ashes was, in a way, easy to do, because they both lived long, full lives and I had plenty of time to make peace with their deaths. But to lose your oldest child right after he'd graduated from college, when you hadn't seen him in a year, and to have to give him back to the earth -- I just can't even begin to quantify how much grief you might feel. I just can't.
This kind of thing makes everything, especially me, feel really small. I wish I could do so much more to make things better, but my own power is so limited. In a way it makes me know that hospice is the right place for me, and in a way I feel bad even saying that because this isn't about me at all.
I guess what I wanted to say here was how moved I am that he took the time to write me a note and share the picture with me, which he didn't have to do at all, and I'm just so sorry.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-11-02 07:09 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-11-02 11:35 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-11-03 02:42 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-11-03 03:40 pm (UTC)