Raising My Warrior: Dealing with Your Child's Grief While You're Grieving

         One of the most cruel paradigms in life is that it is at the times when we are usually at our weakest that the most is required of us.  I could not talk about widowed parenting without giving credit to that.  Regardless of the age of your children when they lose their other parent, one thing is certain....you cannot eliminate or absorb their pain with any actions you take.  You can soften blows, avoid triggers, go to every group counseling session offered; however, please understand that their healing has a lot to do with your own healing as you navigate grief for them.

      My wild and beautiful Rose...she was four when her Dad never came home from work. I can still see her running down the driveway chasing him as he left that evening.  She was a Daddy's girl with her camo shirt, boots and hat on.  She was the spitting image of him too, and she still is.  The night/ morning I got the phone call and went searching for my husband's helicopter wreckage I had to wake her up, throw some clothes on her and drive.  The next day our family picture was on national news.  It was Easter and I had to tell that tiny little curly headed angel that she would never get to see her Daddy again.  How? How are you supposed to do that?

   There is no right way or easy way.  I told her what I could.  There were moments when I couldn't take it in the first weeks.  After the funeral, a friend had to strap her into her booster seat as she screamed to the top of her lungs for her Dad.  I cried; she cried. I made a cedar chest full of age appropriate things I will share with her as she matures, his helmet, flight suit, newspaper clippings, etc.  My village dressed her for the Memorials and events where her picture was taken, and I tried as hard as I could to make life as normal as possible.  I survived to make sure she survived.  I would go through the motions and be strong and drop her off at school, then go home to bed where I would cry until having to go pick her up from school.  I was like a parent zombie for awhile.

      After awhile, the overcompensation and the lack of sleep wore me down.  I broke many times the first two years and made many mistakes.  I cursed Daddy-daughter dances and Doughnuts for Dads.  I had to work through my own grief.  As I got better, she got better.  Slowly, surviving became living.  Holidays got easier and daily life was more manageable as we learned to do completely different things.  We moved states; we traveled.  We developed new patterns and began creating traditions that still honored him, but allowed us to grow. We still have nightmares and have to deal with grief attacks and such, but we are able to work through them.  We enjoy helping others heal and spend a great deal of time volunteering at events and as family support liaisons throughout the year.  The best advice I can give any widowed parent is that is okay to heal alongside them.  Let them know if you are having a bad day, so they know that bad days are okay and are all part of the process.  Grieve and heal, so they can too.