Grief Voyeurs

A father's feeling that he has been followed on his grief journey. Do you ever have the same feeling? 

-by Matthew H.
I have had a repetitive dream where I'm trying to find my way through murky flat lands, wading through mud, surrounded by ground hugging fog. Then I see an opening. Smiling faces, just a hundred yards ahead, with outstretched arms offering solace and respite from this slimy bog. We embrace and my heart is lifted. As the hugs ensue I hear murmurings in the group, "He needs to move on. This is lasting too long. I saw him going to a grief meeting again."

Awakening from that dream leaves me feeling uneasy. I feel pressured. I feel followed.

The death of my son has become a defining moment in my life. In the darkness that surrounds this loss I've admitted that how I respond to it will determine the direction of my life. I think what has happened to me has pushed me to the edge. I have to admit my weaknesses.

When a parent gazes upon the lifeless body of their child, a destructive unrelenting force moves through their body and spirit. It creates seismic damage. Over time a steady stream of pain builds and is released. I was overcome with depression. It slithered its way into my workday. Excessive effort had to be spent to trying to portray the guy I used to be.

My evening escape became online grief groups inhabited mostly by women. I visited like a voyeur; watching, reading. Soon I started taking part. It was a relief, a way to release the pain.

One day a friend at work quoted one of the remarks I made at one of those sites. What a wake-up call. I realized I wasn't the only voyeur. Apparently she had been tracking my comments and visits to these places. I can't say whether she did it out of 'friendship' or a voyeuristic nature, but it repelled me.

There are many times I find myself sitting in a chair late at night, alone. I descend  into the loss. Sometimes I listen to Tim's favorite music, read, write in a journal, pray, or just stare at the wall. Tears will fall and my prayers sound like gagging whispers, but I know God hears and understands. I know Tim hears.

Jesus said, "Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted." Suffering this type of loss strips a person's life down to the bare essentials. It is substantially clarifying. I'm thankful for my wife, my daughter and my friends. Friends who are a part of my 'real life' and don't follow me online. Friends who don't care how long this process takes because they know who I really am. -Matthew H.



Visit A New Journey on Facebook. A resource and place of hope for grieving parents.  http://www.facebook.com/pages/A-New-Journey/139541632740837