The Stages of Grief

Today there was sadness in our family, in our neighborhood, in our schools, and in our community--one of my son's friends from high school died in a traffic accident on the way home from school. He was 17 years old. He left school alone in his car and was heading home when he hit a curve in the road too fast and swerved into oncoming traffic. He hit a car head-on and was flipped over several times before coming to a stop on the opposite side of the road. He was wearing his seatbelt, but he sustained massive head injuries and died at the scene. Sadly, many of his friends passed by the scene of the accident on their way home from school and saw the carnage. Both my son's and daughter's buses were late because of the back-up of traffic around the scene. When they finally arrived home, all they knew at the time was that there had been a wreck that caused their buses to be late. It wasn't until later that night that we got a phone call informing us of the death--and then we put it all together: the wreck we all saw was the one that took our young friend's life. The other driver sustained minor injuries--our friend was the only fatality. Gone...in just a few seconds...in a place where we all pass each and every day...at a time where many of us travel the same roads. It could have been any one of us. It could have been any one of our children. Our hearts ache for the family of this boy who was simply heading home after school like everyone else.


I have heard people talk about the four stages of grief: denial, sadness, anger, and acceptance. Many people are going through these stages as they mourn the loss of our friend. As a mother, I can only imagine how heartbroken this boy's mother is right now. I know who she is, though I do not know her well. Still, my heart breaks for her...one mother to another. I couldn't stop imagining how terrible it would be to not have one of my children come home ever again. As my teens went about their daily routines, I thought about how awful it would be if one of them was not there and would never again do these things. As we sat at our dinner table and discussed the day's events, I imagined how empty my heart would feel if one of them would never again occupy their seat. I know that one day we will have to let go of them and they will leave home for lives of their own--but to let go THIS way...that isn't how it is suppose to be! I thought about that boy's mother--I thought about what she might be doing--I thought about how difficult it would be to make funeral arrangements when all you want to do is curl up and wail. Death is hard to accept no matter who dies, but to lose a child HAS to be the TOUGHEST loss ever. And I know father's hurt as much as mothers do--I can only speak from MY heart, and that is the heart of a mother. It is often said that giving birth is like having a piece of your heart ripped out of your body and having it walk around outside of your body. I know that feeling. I know that my heart is closely bonded to theirs--the physical connection may be broken at birth but that emotional connection is very palpable. I can truly feel it in a physical sense--my heart is deeply connected to them. To lose a child must be like losing a piece of your heart--literally. How does a mother continue to live when that connection has been irreversibly broken? How does she live with pieces literally missing from her heart?


Though I only knew this family casually, my heart aches deeply for them. I can only imagine the heartbreak and devastation they are feeling. It is a very sad day.