In our second year without Jack, we came to understand that the pain of losing a child is something that can never be fully mastered. It becomes a constant companion, residing within our hearts, minds, bodies, and souls indefinitely. This grief is a solitary and isolating experience, deeply personal to each individual. When Jack’s birthday came around for the second time without him, the permanence of his absence began to sink in. The initial numbing effect of the trauma gradually faded, allowing the pain to intensify. It became a deep, unbearable ache. Stephen Colbert, in his conversation with Anderson Cooper on a podcast, likened it to a tiger that has taken up residence in our home, lurking in every room and striking at us without warning.
Traumatic grief affects both our physical and emotional well-being. It brings about sudden exhaustion, chest pains, insomnia, nightmares, a racing heart, and panic. It feels as though the air has been sucked out of our lungs, leaving behind a burning sensation in our throats and tongues that no drink can alleviate. As Bessel van der Kolk explains in his bestselling book, “The Body Keeps the Score,” traumatic experiences leave lasting imprints on our minds, emotions, ability to experience joy and intimacy, and even our biology and immune systems. There is no cure because grief is not a disease. As the saying goes, it is the price we pay for loving.
After Jack’s passing, our lives underwent an instantaneous and profound change. Our family of four became a family of three at every meal. The presence of the “empty chair” serves as a powerful symbol of our grief, but it is also a tangible reality. When dining out, waiters inquire if we are expecting a fourth person before clearing away the extra utensils. Yes, we are waiting. Forever. The home that was once filled with the laughter and love of our family now carries the weight of memories, which flash through our minds when we enter a room. We have friends who have relocated to different apartments, states, or even countries in an attempt to escape their grief, only to find that it follows them wherever they go. We, however, are determined to remain in our home – Jack’s home.
“At restaurants, the waiter asks if we are waiting for a fourth before clearing away the extra utensils. Yes, we are waiting. Forever.
