We dropped Richard off to Comfort Zone Camp last night. I am so glad that we sent him. It was such a blessing to have found this wonderful organization for him and for us. We left here around 2pm and got there around 4pm. We checked him in, he got t-shirts and other great stuff, and then met his Big Buddy. The two of them went off to go put his things in his cabin and Hugh and I waited with the other parents to attend the parents dinner. We were a little lost with it being our first time, but we found that there were many first timers there.
It started to rain but we were in a rec hall and sat there with a bunch of other's who had a significant loss in their lives too. People were from all over the eastcoast. The camp has several places throughout the US and they just opened a new one in Mass. The other ones are in CA, VA, and NJ. It was nice for once to be in a room of people who really understood that it was ok to cry and we were all having trouble with our children coping. So many of the kids react the same way. There had been people there who lost someone over 5years ago and still come. This place was truly a blessing.
We all went around the table introducing ourselves and our loss. I of course got picked to be the first. It was very hard to sit there in a room full of strangers but also feel as if you had already known these people. There were people there who lost a spouse and their child was missing a parent, there were people who lost a grandparent that helped raise their child, and then there was one other mother there who lost her child to suicide and who's children knew the loss of a sibbling. All of our circumstances were different but all had a common bond.
We did find out that they are having an adult camp in VA next weekend. Hugh was very excited about it. I think it was the first time I saw him take an interst in something himself without me having to push him towards it in a very long time. You could see in his face that he really wants to go and needs to go. I don't know if both of us will be able to go but I want him to go. He truly has no one that he feels comfortable talking to and for the first time you could see that he did not feel alone. After he actually brought up the subject again and wanted to get the info. He stood in line to find out more while I spoke with the other mother who had lost her son. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Hugh crying. For the first time since George left, he felt like he could talk to someone without having to have it together or explain himself. I can't tell you what that meant to me.
He has struggled so bad over the years to make and keep connections with people. It is amazing how you can have a list of friends and family and still feel like you have no one. It is the hardest thing to be in a room full of familiar faces and still feel like a stranger. That is the lonliest feeling in the world. When you loose your child, it is even worse because the whole world seems like a stranger to you. No one knows how to act around you or what to say to you. When you say your childs name you can see how it makes others uncomfortable so little by little you just pretend like you have it all together but inside you are dying and your heart and head are screaming...my baby is dead and you just don't understand me.
The calls stop coming and those that do come are met with the knowledge that when people ask you how you are they really don't want to know. You learn to say the acceptable things like, hanging in there, as best as can be expected, or just ok. There is part of you that is just sick of the pitty looks and akwardness that is met when someone asks that question. You come to hate small talk all together because there is this akwardness about it and you also don't have the patience for it anymore. Hugh and I both talked about this on the way home and how it is such a hard thing to live with.
On the way home, I cried a good portion of the way, realizing that this was how the rest of our lives were going to be. He is never coming back and we are strangers to this world for the rest of our lives. We are now members of this group we never wanted to join or be part of. Everyone else gets to move on with their lives and even though we have to too, it will never be the same. There will always be a part of us missing. No amount of faith can ever change that. The very thought of it is just so overwhelming. If I am lucky, I will have another 50+ years to live like this and my God that sounds so daunting and painful. We know we are blessed and are greatful for so many things but to live without our little boy, who we never thought we would have to say good bye to until we met the Lord ourselves, seems so overwhelming right now.
For the very first time I think we both felt that we were in a room of people we knew. We have had friends that we know who have lost children but for whatever reason, those relationships have just not been what we thoguth they would be if we ever experienced the same loss. It still amazes me as to how when someone first dies people are there but as time goes on and you need them the most, no one is around in the same capacity...they have been able to move on. With saying that, I was the same way prior to this. It has totally changed my perspective on grief and how to be there for others when they loose someone.
I had a friend in high school who lost his mother shortly after we graduated to cancer. It had been a while since his mom had passed but I did not know she did and I wanted to send something to him. I sent him a card and told him I was thinking of him even though the time had passed. He called me shortly after he got the card and thanked me telling me he had really needed that. It never occured to me until now, what he meant. We have had a few people here or there that have sent us an email or dropped off a meal even now and I can't say how much that means. It seems as if it comes at the time you need it the most.
I'm so greatful that Richard has the opportunity to go to this camp. Hugh and I both know how hard it is to talk to family and friends about this. You know they mean well but sometimes they don't say or understand what you really need. We are greatful for them by all means but on both ends we are all hurting in such a way that being there for one another is just virtually impossible. It is kind of the the elephant in the room thing. We are all so consumed in our own grief at times that there is no way to be there for someone else. Richard will have the opportunity for it to be about him but to also know he is not alone and it is in a safe place where the world around him truly understands. That is such a great gift for him.
I'm sure as time goes on it will change but for now it is just still very hard. I don't know if they will ever truly understand that we will always be sad and that nothing will ever fix this but we know there are others we can go to that do understand and that is what we have found with this camp. Sometimes it is just easier to talk to a stranger, there are no expectations and feelings are never wrong. It amazed me that some people there were 5-7years out from their loss and still felt as if it was brand new. That just goes to show how much of a long road this is going to be. It also shows you that it is possible and that what you are doing is ok even if no one else understands why you cry or keep to yourself. We are officially members of the Bereavement Club.
We are looking forward to going back tomorrow to pick Richard up and attend the memorial service. I hope that we can at the very least get Hugh into the adult camp next weekend. I thank God every day that we have the relationship that we do have because I don't know how many people split up because of this sort of thing...for us it has brought us closer then ever. We are truly blessed where that is concerned. One day at a time, one moment if needed. Grief is a long tedious process full of so many ups and downs that catch you off guard. Everyone will face it sometime in their lives and I am greatful to be able to keep this blog to give insight to others as to how the process of the loss of a child is. Among the pain and sorrow there is hope and faith, all which propell you forward to make you the person you are meant to be.
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