Friday, November 12, 2010

I'm not running from...

Last night I went to an event that was being held by one of the bereavement groups that I attend that is designed exclusively for parents who have lost children. A woman (who also happens to be a medium), led the group of approximantely 125 bereaved parents in a guided meditation. I do believe it is the first time I was ever able to successfully mediate. Perhaps it was the overwhelming feeling of sadness that had enveloped the room. Or the profound feeling of belonging that I feel when I am surrounded by a group of people who "get it". Those who have not lost a child, simply can not understand. They think they do, but they do not. However, the enegry in that room last night was overwhelming to me. A group of desperate parents looking to each other for comfort, support, guidance, I dont know, just looking to each other to say, "I understand". I wondered to myself if this is how the alcoholic feels when they finally find the rooms of AA Or the loved one of a alcoholic when they discover Al-anon.

Ironically, I have finally found the place where I fit in, a place where I belong, and that is with a bunch of people that have suffered the same devasting, life altering loss that I have.

It's not always so good to be home.

8 comments:

Syd said...

Kel, I'm glad that you found a place of comfort. It does take those who have been through what you have to really understand. The rest of us can only mouth words but cannot comprehend.

Beth Blair said...

I'm glad you found a place where you feel like you fit. That will be a great blessing to your life, I'm sure.

Anonymous said...

Ma'am, We're always here for you. There was nothing to be done. I've been where your son was.

Sober T said...

I have not been posting on my blog for the past two years because I've been living my new sober life. I don't remember how I happened onto your blog but the shock I felt when I read that your beloved Prince had lost his battle with his addiction is horrible. I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am for what you've gone through this year and I'm glad that you've found a group of like minded people with whom you can share your feelings with. Sure, we all can tell you how bad we feel for your loss (which we do), but it's not the same as sharing with someone going thru the same thing. Which is how AA and NA work, isn't it?

I wish I could come up with something helpful to say but I can't. Just know that I am sorry for your loss.

Theresa

Tabitha.Montgomery said...

I can't imagine anyone who hasn't lost a child thinking they could understand.But perhaps their intentions are merely to be supportive.Anyways,I'm grateful to read you've found somewhere you feel a true sense of understanding and support.Remember,you always tried to do this before K passed away.You always tried to help him and to that I hope you remember that when you process your grief among other parents.You have always been a supportive Mother.And you deserve to gain support now for you,even in grief.
I don't blame you one bit for wishing it were a different circumstance my friend.I wish it were for you and others too who have lost their kids to drugs,etc.
I am helpless to you as your friend until you are ready to accept my love and support,until then,it is always here for you.
I miss you . . keep staying true to your journey. . |Tabxo

Wait. What? said...

Support is important and I am thankful you have found that place for you.

Melinda said...

I'm glad I stumbled on your blog. I am the mother of an opiate addict. Life has been one wild ride for us. I know that I can not understand the deep loss you feel. It is the most painful thing to imagine. Life with an addict is painful and sometimes we want it all to end but I know how incredibly lost I would be without my son in my life. My heart goes out to you. I am sooooo soooo sorry for your deep loss.

Beth Blair said...

I know you're probably not reading this but I wanted to pop over and say Hi. And Merry Christmas. My wish for you is that you find peace and joy in your life despite the pains of loss that you have.