1. Be gentle with yourself

I first heard the words “be gentle with yourself” at the end of the first grief group I attended. I had asked myself all sorts of excruciating questions: How could I reconcile eating soup dumplings with Rob in the afternoon and committing suicide the next night? How can you love someone with all your heart even if they keep breaking them over and over again? How do you save someone who doesn’t want to be saved? I finally let myself off the hook when I asked one last question: How can I be so angry about what he did when I know it wasn’t him but his mental illness that pushed you to do this? Mental illness was the only thing that gave Rob’s death meaning. Rob was sick, and when the sick part took over his life, he finally decided to do something and checked it out. When I realized this, I stopped punishing myself and never looked back.

2. Go down memory lane

Some parents find it too painful to look at old photos of their child. I felt the opposite. Seeing photos of Rob as a child and an adult kept me connected to him, and that’s what I needed most in those first months after his death. If that’s not what you need most, I understand, but I still suggest looking at a photo or two every now and then. Looking at old photos is like traveling back in time. There’s your child growing up before your eyes, until he stops before he’s supposed to stop. It’s heartbreaking, I know, and the anguish can be too much to bear, but if you can somehow hold on to it, a bittersweet joy eventually rises from these photographic ashes.

3. Go ahead and cry

I want to tell you that all my crying felt good, that it was a huge relief, but I don’t remember anything like that. I just remember bursting into tears with no thoughts in my head. I was full of feelings and none of them felt good. Except they were. I didn’t know it then, but I know it now. I know this because I watched parents in my bereavement group cry for almost two years, and I see other bereaved parents cry in the bereavement groups I now lead every week. I saw how their tears helped them all cope with their loss. I’ve seen how people slowly come back to life and transform into better versions of themselves, and it all starts with crying. Crying is the soundtrack to the pain of missing your child, the heavy metal of our heavy hearts. It is uncontrollable, excruciating, overwhelming and above all necessary. You must suffer before you heal, and your tears will help repair your soul.

4. And also, shout

Sometimes you just have to shout really loud.

5. Find your collaborators

I am a group leader for bereaved parents at Our House Grief Support Center in Los Angeles. Wherever you live, there is a similar support group, or you can find one online. There is a surprising power in being part of a group. Revealing your innermost thoughts and feelings – no matter how crazy you think them – to imperfect strangers who truly understand because they feel much the same way, opens you up like nothing else. Once you realize that this is a safe place, perhaps the only place where you can reveal your darkest, most intimate thoughts, an unshakeable trust is established. No one is judging you here, except maybe yourself.

6. Keep talking to your child

It’s okay if they can hear you. It doesn’t matter if they respond. What matters is expressing your love for your child. You loved them in life, you love them in death, you love them until the end of time. You have to tell them that. Every day. Tell them, tell them, tell them! They are a part of you and always will be a part of you, and if you are open to them, you can learn a lot by listening to them. They will help you become the different person you are becoming. Your conversations with them, no matter how imaginary they may seem, are one of the best ways to deal with your loss. Talking to your child will tell you everything you need to know. Writing letters works too. Writing to Rob helped me understand what happened to him, what happened to us, and what happened to me. I’m sure writing will help you too. It documents your love and loss, and seeing your feelings come to life on the page connects you with your loved one like nothing else.

7. Remember to do the grieving work

Working is a full-time job that starts at minimum wage. It’s dirty, messy and the ultimate heavyweight. It can be a real chore and it really hurts, but you have to get through the grief. And when the work is done (may it be almost done, because the work can last forever), you will realize that you have gained a wealth of knowledge that no money can buy. The implementation of the work leaves nothing to chance. He goes through all your questions with a fine-tooth comb. It uncorks your oceanic feelings and allows you to express them with whom you trust to share them. The more you can unburden yourself, the more you can untangle your traumatic stories and reframe them, the more you can begin to accept the things you cannot change, the quicker you will move through the grief tunnel.

9. Consider EMDR

EMDR is an acronym for eye movement desensitization and reprocessing. It’s a non-traditional therapeutic treatment used primarily with people who’ve been through something horribly wrong, and it’s supposed to work much faster than the more conventional gabfest. With EMDR, you relive your trauma in small doses while being distracted by specific eye movements and what is called “bilateral stimulation,” which involves tapping both sides of your body, thereby stimulating both sides of your body. your brain at the same time. There are several theories as to why it’s effective: It’s a bit like rewiring your emotions, but without feeling like you’re joining a cult. Despite the instinctive skepticism inherent in every New Yorker, I was willing to try it because I was open to anything that could somehow ease my pain and sadness. This must have had some positive effects because after about a year, my therapist finally kicked me out of the nest. She has already said enough; I had done the work and it was time for me to live my life. No therapist had ever said that to me before and I will always love them for it.

10. Finally, let go of your grief

Your grief is going nowhere. Little by little, you will learn to absorb it until you forget that it was once a separate entity that scared you. You’ve been going through it at your own pace while working, and at some point you’ll wake up and decide it’s finally time to let go. Just to reassure you, you are not letting go of your child. You let go of pain and suffering and fully accept the reality of losing them. Letting go is scary. What if you lost connection with your child and you no longer missed them? What if you feel like you’ve abandoned them? What if you feel guilty for not feeling sad? What is really happening is the opposite of everything you feared. Once you are able to let go of the distressing thoughts you have been holding on to since the day you heard the terrible news, you will feel stronger – no, it’s more than that, you will feel, for the first time time for a long time, a feeling of freedom and control, which seems contradictory but no less breathtaking. Above all, you will feel a different and deeper connection with your child.