Staying Connected

Along with the vast majority of bereaved mothers, I’ve found that as the years go by it becomes increasingly difficult to maintain relationships that are connected to our child’s passing. It makes sense. Colton’s friends are now approaching their 30s and their lives are busier than ever. They have families of their own. They are building their careers, buying their first house, doing all of the normal things that Colton should be doing.

I can only assume that this same explanation applies to some of my adult relationships that have disintegrated since Colton’s passing. It just doesn’t apply to them any longer, they don’t think about it, and as the years continue to put space between us, the event that stays in my mind and affects my daily wellbeing has completely vanished from theirs. This is the truth. It’s difficult for me, but I do understand it. Fortunately, I’ve also reconnected with friends that truly understand loss and who have been very supportive of my grief journey. I now make a very conscious, thoughtful choice about who I connect to, as it seems that my tolerance for anything negative in my life has seriously diminished.

Then there are the one or two friends that have made a point of keeping in touch. My son touched their lives in a profound way. They have not forgotten him. He was like a brother to them. The love they feel for him is still a constant in their lives. The years that have passed have perhaps softened the pain for them and the love and respect for Colton has remained. These are the truest of the true and for me, staying connected to these few helps to keep Colton close.

One of Colton’s very best friends brought his wife and three children to see me yesterday. His second son carries Colton as his middle name, as he was born just two weeks before Colton passed. Colton was able to hold him in Hospice and I was able to witness what a profound blessing this gesture was for him. He felt that now he was leaving a lasting impression. He knew that he made a difference and that he was loved. It was, and is, a beautiful gift. For me, seeing how quickly this young family is growing up puts the passage of time into perspective. It shows me once again what I’m missing out on as I will never be a grandmother. It forces me to realize that whether I am daily aware of it or not, we are all moving forward with our lives. We’re not moving away from him, but in fact we are bringing him along with us. And there is huge comfort in that if we let there be.

Social media becomes an important tool in this regard. I am able to keep track of his friends’ lives from the safe distance of my computer, and when the opportunity arises, as it did for me yesterday, I have the ability to reach out and stay connected. It certainly isn’t something that should be forced. Thankfully for me and for those truest of the true, it isn’t. And that’s a beautiful thing. I can’t help but feel that Colton’s energy was there, seeing the new baby, listening to the conversation, watching the boys chase Louie around the yard and shooting bubbles with water guns.

There are so many things in life that seem out of our control. Certainly, the loss of a child is first and foremost. It changes everything. From that moment on, our lives evolve into something different because of the huge space left by the one we loved the most. No one can replace Colton. That space shall remain unfilled. However, it seems that there is still plenty of space available to add something new, along with “his space”. It’s up to me to fill it with what makes me feel good and fulfilled and at peace.

It starts with staying connected.