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<blockquote data-quote="Scent of Cedar *" data-source="post: 640760" data-attributes="member: 17461"><p>There was a thread on the site once, about whether it was harder to lose a child to death, or harder to lose a child the way we are all losing our children. The answer, from a mom whose child did die (which any of ours might, at any time, given the lives they lead and the drugs they use and the people they use them with) was that as long as her child was alive, she had hope.</p><p></p><p>Once he was gone, she had none.</p><p></p><p>Her second child began using drugs.</p><p></p><p>She had no choice but to do what she had to do to save his life. That child survived.</p><p></p><p>So, she definitely knew what she was talking about.</p><p></p><p>There is no easy answer.</p><p></p><p>There is no escape from the pain of what this is.</p><p></p><p>We can learn to cherish our lives, and that is what we are learning to do, here.</p><p></p><p>We are developing the courage it takes to hope.</p><p></p><p>We are living lives of old grief toppled by unbelievably horrific recent griefs covered by anticipatory grief wrapped in shame and resentment and self blame. The wonder of it is that any of us can function, at all.</p><p></p><p>But here we are.</p><p></p><p>We do function.</p><p></p><p>Slowly, with determination and sincerity, we can reclaim our lives.</p><p></p><p>Slowly, we can learn the parenting techniques that may make a difference for our difficult child children, or we can learn how to let them go without condemning either them or ourselves.</p><p></p><p>So, the answer I took from that mom's response about a living child meaning there was still hope...it sounds callous to say so, but what I took from her response is that I am (we all are, here on P.E. in my opinion) living on the raw edge of fresh grief every single day. It is almost worse to hope than to have it over, than to know the child will never fail again, will never be beat like that again....</p><p></p><p>Cold hearted to say so, isn't it.</p><p></p><p>The horror of knowing what is happening to your child, of knowing it may happen again, is indescribable. </p><p></p><p>We have no sympathy cards, no one is bringing us casseroles, there is no black armband for us to wear so others will understand and treat us more gently. Just the opposite. We are judged for what has happened to our children ~ and worse still, we judge ourselves.</p><p></p><p>These are very hard things, so we need to begin our recoveries in the smallest of ways. We need to recognize the intricacy of the smallest weed, of the tiniest flower beside the road. We need to understand from that smallest miracle that there must be a reason, whether we see it or not.</p><p></p><p>Then, we can give ourselves permission to heal, and to live, and to feel joy, again.</p><p></p><p>I am glad you are here with us. It is impossible to heal, impossible to see our lives and our children in healthier ways alone, I think.</p><p></p><p>But together, we seem to be coming through it.</p><p></p><p>Cedar</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Scent of Cedar *, post: 640760, member: 17461"] There was a thread on the site once, about whether it was harder to lose a child to death, or harder to lose a child the way we are all losing our children. The answer, from a mom whose child did die (which any of ours might, at any time, given the lives they lead and the drugs they use and the people they use them with) was that as long as her child was alive, she had hope. Once he was gone, she had none. Her second child began using drugs. She had no choice but to do what she had to do to save his life. That child survived. So, she definitely knew what she was talking about. There is no easy answer. There is no escape from the pain of what this is. We can learn to cherish our lives, and that is what we are learning to do, here. We are developing the courage it takes to hope. We are living lives of old grief toppled by unbelievably horrific recent griefs covered by anticipatory grief wrapped in shame and resentment and self blame. The wonder of it is that any of us can function, at all. But here we are. We do function. Slowly, with determination and sincerity, we can reclaim our lives. Slowly, we can learn the parenting techniques that may make a difference for our difficult child children, or we can learn how to let them go without condemning either them or ourselves. So, the answer I took from that mom's response about a living child meaning there was still hope...it sounds callous to say so, but what I took from her response is that I am (we all are, here on P.E. in my opinion) living on the raw edge of fresh grief every single day. It is almost worse to hope than to have it over, than to know the child will never fail again, will never be beat like that again.... Cold hearted to say so, isn't it. The horror of knowing what is happening to your child, of knowing it may happen again, is indescribable. We have no sympathy cards, no one is bringing us casseroles, there is no black armband for us to wear so others will understand and treat us more gently. Just the opposite. We are judged for what has happened to our children ~ and worse still, we judge ourselves. These are very hard things, so we need to begin our recoveries in the smallest of ways. We need to recognize the intricacy of the smallest weed, of the tiniest flower beside the road. We need to understand from that smallest miracle that there must be a reason, whether we see it or not. Then, we can give ourselves permission to heal, and to live, and to feel joy, again. I am glad you are here with us. It is impossible to heal, impossible to see our lives and our children in healthier ways alone, I think. But together, we seem to be coming through it. Cedar [/QUOTE]
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