I and many people I know are suffering from a broken heart.
Now this may not seem like a big deal to you. After all, people get broken hearts all the time. Most of the time people get over it. Eventually, their attention turns towards finding new love to invest their time and energy in. Sooner or later, their heart heals — and hopefully the wiser for it.
Unfortunately, these are not the type of broken hearts I am referring to.
The kind of broken heart I am talking about is so severe and so devastating, it can never fully heal.
It is caused by losing someone whose absence leaves a gaping, endless hole in your heart. A hole that simply can never be filled. It is caused by losing a person who could never, ever be replaced and who can never, ever come back. In my case, it was caused by the sudden death of my 4-year-old daughter in 2009.
Oh, I hear all you doubters out there. You see on the news that people die every day. And from your point of view, their families and friends seem to get over it and move on with life. So why can’t we?
Some of you may think the people who can’t seem to let it go are just a bunch of “poor me” types who want attention. You may even be friends with some of us. Or more likely, used to be friends with us. You probably can’t fathom why we still feel the need to attend support groups, visit the cemetery every week, or randomly break down in tears – for years after the death. Many of you feel compelled to tell us how we’re supposed to get over our grief.
If it were only that simple.
So, why? Why can’t we just get over it and move on with our lives as if everything was back to normal?
Unfortunately, there isn’t an answer I could put into words that would ever satisfy you. Maybe the problem lies in the terminology being used. We may be suffering from a broken heart as you would define it. But it’s more than that. It might better be described as a broken soul or a broken spirit. Maybe it’s best to just cut out the noun. We are simply broken. Until you actually experience this type of loss, you’ll never fully understand.
So maybe the better question is: why does it bother you so much?
Is it the tears that make you uncomfortable? Does our demeanor hamper your care-free lifestyle? Is it the in-your-face reminder that you will die someday – and maybe much sooner than you plan to? Whatever your reason, you need to know that if you feel compelled to tell us what we need to do and how we need to do it, you’re not doing us any favors or speeding up our grief process. You’re just adding to our pain.
The fact is if you had enough patience, you’d see that over time people like us are better able to reintegrate into “normal” life. We learn to smile and truly experience happiness again. We don’t cry as often – and when we do, we can usually wait until no one is looking. Eventually, we may even convince you that we have finally moved on with our lives. But behind the scenes you better believe that the pain is still there.
The longing never goes away. The regret is here to stay. Painful reminders that such an important person in our life is missing constantly surround us.
We don’t just think of them on special occasions; we think of them daily. Some days we may think of them every hour or every minute. This is how we keep them present in our lives. This is our personal memorial to the overwhelming love they brought to our lives when they were here. Do you really want to take that away from us?
Instead of focusing on the idea that we should move on with our lives to make you more comfortable, maybe you could focus on learning how to look the other way and not let our grief bother you so much.
This website was inspired by the memory of Margareta Sol Kubitz in hopes of helping others work through the pain of grief.
Amen, Amen, Amen, Amen! Thank you! My heart will never heal from losing my youngest child. And I am tired of thinking I am grieving as fast as I can in order to make others comfortable. I remain sorry for your loss of your beautiful daughter!
Thanks, Dee. I wrote this post because it is a frequent topic at the grief support groups I still attend…and probably will for years to come. Wishing you peace, Maria
Thank you, your writings always reflect what is in my heart. I just had a talk with my daughter this weekend about how she is doing 7yrs after losing her oldest brother, she is now 24, he was 18 and she 17 when we lost him. She is very stoic and says she prefers not to think about him or talk about him and I am the exact opposite. It hurts that I can’t “share” him with her. A piece of my heart will always be missing.
Thank you, Kathy. I’m grateful my words brought you some comfort. Wishing you peace, Maria
YES. All of this, so very much. Most of the people I knew “before” aren’t in my life anymore, but if they were, I’d send them here to read this. You nailed it, every word. Thank you.
Thanks Emma. While I think it is very sad that many people lose relationships in the aftermath of a devastating loss, I als think it’s inevitable. So sorry for your loss. Maria
Well said! Thank you for having the courage and savvy writing skills to do it so well. Your blackbirds with broken wings was also brilliantly done. Peace and continued healing to you.
Thank you, Michelle.
Maria, you have expressed so eloquently what I wish I could communicate to my family and friends. I lost my first-born son to suicide just eight months ago, and while I can appear to be “normal” on the outside to those around me, inside I am devasted and in pain every waking moment. My family and friends don’t want to listen anymore, so when they ask how I am doing, I just say I’m “fine” because that’s easier. So thank you for your words that express how I feel. My condolences for your daughter’s passing.
Steve
Thank you, Steve. I’m sorry for your loss and that you find yourself feeling so alone, but hopefully it won’t always feel that way. Wishing you peace, Maria
This is so true. I will never “get over” the death of my only child. And, quite honestly, why should I? I don’t have a child to hold any more. My dreams and hope died when Vic died.
Thanks Tersia. So sorry on the loss of your daughter. Wishing you peace, Maria
Maria, something I read to myself everyday has helped me cope with the death of my son. It is a quote from the PBS show “Call the Midwives”, and is: ” You will feel better than this. Not right now, but you will. You just keep living until you are alive again.”
Steve
Thank you, Steve. That’s a wonderful mantra.
Hi Maria, so true. Thank you for your great article. For me after 3 1/2 years I feel all I’ve learned is how to fake it pretty well. At times I feel I’ve really gotten somewhere with “the Grief process” and accepted the loss and then it comes back like it were yesterday. I’ve also lost many “friends” through this which just adds to the pain. People always say you will see him again and I ask them how they know that and usually they say oh you will. I like to believe that of course and maybe thats true but it’s just a belief , not a fact . The fact is he is dead and I am lost. Yes there have been times of happiness since then and I am hopeful there will be more but wow, the most monumental challenge we have been given…a daily mountain to climb, good luck to you all, I’d rather climb Mt. Everest, I’m sure it would be easier. thanks, Robert
If I were the type of person who doesn’t hold back, the best answer would be, “Wait until it happens to you”.
Very well expressed sentiment. I am not yet at the point where I can wait until I’m alone for the tears to fall. I wish I could express to people that I don’t need them to do or say anything to me when they fall -other then to let it happen- I see it as a natural reaction to the loss, but unfortunately it can make others uncomfortable. I don’t want to make them uncomfortable, but the emotions are too powerful for me to keep them in check all of the time.