Death by Trauma

Watching the one you love die due to traumatic injury is trauma itself. The death of a loved one is so difficult to integrate into our lives. When that loved one is a child it can be more challenging because a child’s death comes with a uniqueness that makes incorporating the death into our lives very difficult.

Our own beliefs and personalities can drive how we manage the grieving process. As a child I observed many people deal with the death of a loved one. I guess I adopted some of those things as my own. My parents never shielded me from the reality of death and for that I am ever grateful. But, there is still a personal learning curve and there are moments of witnessing death that sit upon my heart which I’ve never forgotten. I recall the young man in high school who died from leukemia, his open casket, the ball cap on his head. I recall crying from deep within my soul. Though I did not know him well at all, for years I went to visit his grave. I don’t know why, I just felt the need to let him know he was missed. I remember going to the hospital when my grandmother died and standing there with my father looking at her body covered by a sheet. Her hand was outside of the sheet, it was small and thin. I saw the tears fall from his face. I didn’t know her well and my heart ached for my father and for his loss, I hurt because he hurt. My other grandmother died at home, I could hear her labored breathing, knowing she was tired, wishing her peace. I couldn’t go in her room that night; she was so dear to me, I couldn’t watch her leave. I just wished her peace. When my dad was dying I went to his home and sat beside him as he lay on his bed. He wasn’t really conscious, but I knew he heard me as I told him I loved him and it was ok for him to leave; we would be alright. I had to release him from this world, as painful as it was, death from lung cancer is a brutal thing to watch and I would rather him be gone than suffer any longer as he was. He died the next day. I remember my friend and colleague who fell ill so quickly. I sat with her family as she lay in the ICU and discussed her prospects and when to remove the life-support. I can see her husband on his knees weeping. I remember her beautiful happy smile, her friendship, how our lives were empty at her passing.

None of that prepare me for trauma.

When I got the call my son was in an accident it led to weeks of witnessing the pain and suffering of the one I loved more than any other human.  I witnessed the inequity of life unfold before my eyes. I felt the sharpness of life’s cruelty, yet at the same time we were wrapped in the gifts of love and friendship. Trauma caused me to surrender to complete helplessness, we had no choices, we were left only with our faith in the works of others. We received the grace of human compassion from those around us as we watched some of the most gruesome things ever witnessed occur to our child. We were completely helpless to do one thing to make it better or to change it. Surrender. Only by the ones who held us in their arms did we survive. There was another family who arrived in the burn unit, they were alone, lost, confused, unaware of his impending death. It was sad. He died within two days of arrival to the unit, they never knew what hit them. Maybe that’s grace in a different form, I don’t know. I don’t know how they are dealing with their son’s death… I often wonder.

Trauma often results in the death of both the victim and the person who witnesses the death.  The trauma of witnessing my son’s struggles and ultimate death is what broke me and defeated the person I was.  Regardless of how much death I had seen or known in life before, or how my ability to cope with death had evolved, it could not prepare me for what was before us. Trauma causes a person to question so many things about their personal self, the decisions we made along the way, the people we trust and those we didn’t, how we got to the place we are and what we could have done differently to have avoided it. These are futile questions that lead to treacherous waters, its best to avoid them I know, but at times almost impossible.

The journey continues...