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Why?

Bereaved parents often ask: Why. Why did my child die? What did I do to cause this to happen?  I experienced this phenomena rather early on in my grief journey as I asked myself why one hundred million times - why - why - why. Maybe that was because of the nature of Wyatt's accident and death, maybe it's just because my child died and that is an out of order life event. The questions circle through my mind like a cyclone, what did I do in this life to deserve such a thing?  What did I do in this life that was so horrific it caused my son to die? What did I do? Why me, why Wyatt, why us, why our family, why, why, why?

Eventually, I learned that I didn't really do anything. It's not my fault, as much as I want to take the blame, it's not mine to own. I still battle this blaming beast of why, but reason eventually comes to mind, even if after a long bout of crying and screaming. Some folks want the answer to why and will search for years seeking that answer. For me, the seeking was more painful than accepting. So, some, like myself, accept there is no answer to why. In this life, I simply know that my son is dead, he's gone from this earth, and I don't know why.

Sure, it isn't always that easy for the heart to accept the mind's bidding, but I hope it gets easier with time. A friend and bereaved mother very aptly told me that time only gives us the ability to handle the pain. Indeed, time is not the ultimate healer and it certainly does not heal this pain.  I have assimilated into my life the constant companions of loss and grieving, of sorrow and remorse... for those parents I know who have lost a child, these companions often become us, consume us, own us, and infiltrate our mind and body to personify our very being.

I am pain. I am loss. I am grief.  I am sorrow. I am afraid. I am sad. I am lonely.  I am without my child...without my future...without my hope...and I will never understand why.
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Location: Florida, USA

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