Chapter 21, PART 1

Maybe even harder to accept is the anniversary of your child’s death, which can be devastating as the memories invade you. I do not even try to push them to the side, but just recognize that it’s natural. I have a small box with my son’s mementos: the tile trivet he made when at a Sunday school for Mother’s Day, a set of baby clothes, pictures, one of his hats, cards from his funeral, a baptismal candle, all pieces of his life and death. It’s on these days which I am doomed to grieve that I open the box and go through his effects—it can’t make the pain any worse and it might bring back the happier times.

Chapter 21, PART 2

My son died on a nondescript day to most people, July 24, 2004, so when I become very low and depressed for several days ahead of time, others might not recognize what is going on. I warn my students before my son’s birthday and the day of his death that if I seem low, what emotions I might be experiencing. They do not know what to do about it, but at least they know it has nothing to do with them.

The Jewish religion waits a year before the final ceremony of the funeral, a practice which I think probably benefits the bereaved because it ensures recognition of the survivor’s grief and it also ensures that one year after the death of the child, other people remember. It’s more of an easing out from the earth than a quick burial and then being left to deal with life.

Chapter 21, PART 3

I know of one woman who is going to do a memento box, as I did for my son, for the first year since his death. That initial year might be the hardest because it offers little in the way of consolation, but instead gives us the first holiday without our child, the first birthday, the first of many events by which we mark time. Then, the first year since the actual day of death arrives and you wonder how you made it through, but also know that you did make it through and you still walk the earth. It doesn’t give hope of ever seeing your child again, but does show us that we can still continue with life, albeit with difficulty.

Chapter 21, part 4

Whether you choose to remember the day in a church, with a gathering of friends, or quietly by yourself, the day is momentous to you—just as momentous as the day of your child’s birth. Hazel’s family had a birthday party for several years for Peter. After a period of years, this tradition stopped, and eventually his birthday went by which she did not remember, for which she was grateful. At first, though, birthdays loom large as they approach.

Chapter 21, part 5

Tonight is the eve of the third birthday after my son’s death as he turned 25 just before he died. He would be 28 tomorrow and I would love to write that I haven’t cried today, but I would be lying. I’m planning on getting through tomorrow, which happens to be jammed with activities of not my own choosing. If it weren’t for an obligation I must keep to the school, I would have taken a personal day off and stayed at the house.

Chapter 21, part 6

My daughter wants to celebrate the good memories of Logan. I have them, but I think of holding him in my arms for the first time and out come emotions so strong I didn’t realize that I still had them this severely. I would like to accommodate my daughter’s request, but I know that I could not sit around with his friends or even my family and put on a false cheer. I will probably light my candles for him and my cousins’ lost sons, cry in between obligations tomorrow and hope that the next day will be better.

It’s better than the first birthday without him. Even when I see the date on a document totally unrelated to him, my motion and mind stop for a moment, frozen in a timeless space, but then I must move on. Perhaps this is the year I should start retraining my brain to focus on what I loved about him and the goodness, but I just miss him and want to talk to him.

Chapter 21, part 7

Tonight, it’s been three months since his birthday of which I spoke, and two weeks before the day of his death. I did manage the night of his birthday to meet with his friends and go out to eat where he worked. The day of his death, even after three years, I dread, but I’ve managed to get through two of these before.

I have no idea what a person could do to make this a better day. Perhaps visiting the gravesite, keeping busy, or lighting candles help you get through it. I do not see how this day can be anything but stressful and if you have extra stressors in your life, you might as well set aside the time to cry.

Chapter 21, part 8

ACTIVITY

Plan an activity that you can do on your child’s birthday, as simple as lighting a candle by yourself in silence. On your child’s death day, if it is too painful, take a personal day off and consider the grief normal, or if you prefer not to think about it, plan to stay busy that day. Each of us is different. I encourage you to journal about your feelings prior to these days because as the years go by you might realize that your grief is no longer as razor sharp as it was.