In the immediate weeks following Micah and Judah’s death, we felt an amazing amount of care and support from people both online and offline. People sent us flowers and chocolates, folks from our church brought meals to us every night for a week, and cards kept pouring in. The amount of Facebook Wall Posts and messages, emails and tweets was overwhelming – in a good way.
The above image shows the hits that this Dazed Dad website had the day that we lost Micah and Judah and the next few weeks. I find that it’s an appropriate image to represent the way many talk about support after loss. It seems that everyone cares at first, and they all want to let you know, but then it starts to taper off. It makes sense – other people’s lives go on, and no matter how sad they are for us, they have schoolwork to do, family to care for, etc.
Some can probably get quite frustrated by the way the support seems to disappear. However, Sarah and I were talking about this last week and Sarah had an interesting thought. She viewed it not necessarily as a bad thing that the support seemed to wane, but rather viewed it more in the sense that the community was preparing us to move forward and go this journey alone.
In Jerry Sitter’s book “A Grace Disguised” he wrote the following:
“A willingness to face the loss and to enter into the darkness is the first step we must take.”
Those who have experienced tragic loss are unwillingly propelled into a journey of grief. They have no choice in the matter – but they do have a choice of how they respond. The journey ahead looks dark, intense and lonely. And it is. Sarah and I, while obviously in this journey together in many ways, are also alone in our own personal grief journeys. We each have to make the conscious decision to enter into the darkness and take that first step.
So while having the love and support from an immense community was amazingly important and necessary in the beginning stage of our journey, grief is inherently a lonely journey. It’s a journey that we have to make ourselves. And I think we feel more prepared for the journey alone because of the support we’ve received from our communities, and because we know that when we feel like we can’t keep going, or when we feel like the darkness is too much, we know they’ll be there for us still.
Adam and Sarah,
We continue to keep you close in our prayers. Knowing this is a journey and a struggle for you, but we also know that you are strong and have a faith that will keep you moving. Yes, we are all here for you if you need us. Just ask, just like Jesus says, ask and you shall receive. Hoping you have a wonderful Thanksgiving with your family. You have many things to be thankful for.
Take care,
Cheryl, Kerry and Michael
still praying here too, and holding you all in the light.
What a well written post. Really puts a new perspective on my own grief. I used to (I say used to as in until the very moment I read this post), I would get angry when I thought about how much people didn’t seem to care anymore. Grief really is a journey that has to be taken alone. You’re right. The supporters lives go on, but the griever is left with just grief and loneliness.
Thanks for this post. Still standing beside you in your grief and praying for you two each and every day. Losing a child is the hardest thing a parent will go through. I can’t imagine anything worse.
God bless you both. We love you!
Happy Thanksgiving to you both. I know there will be an awkward pause as you remember your sons. Know that I am thankful for your honesty throughout this whole journey. And I pray that peace will fill your hearts today.
The communities you belong to are parts of your journey – and indeed the journey is also one that the two of you navigate together,and separately. Perhaps another way to look at it – When you were in the deeper parts of your valley(s) – the community support peaked and reached out to help pull you up. As you work your way up the sides of the valley – as it evens out a bit – one day at a time – the support also evens out or backs off as you make your own way.
You were in my prayers this day as you are frequently – may God continue to bless and keep you.
Sarah
Really appreciated this post as I am sure like many, I could relate to that feeling. Like you said, we know that it’s not that people no longer care, they actually do, but it has more to do with the dynamics of grief, life and friendship.
As always, thanks for sharing and know that you and Sarah are remembered in prayer.
I don’t know you. You don’t know me. But I read your blogs. Maybe “lurk” is a better word. But I am pleased by your successes, moved by your photography, and saddened by your loss.
Consider this comment a bunch of flowers, a pat on the back, or a warm casserole for this time afterwards.