There is nothing more dangerous than the sound of silence.
Grief is one of the most traumatic weapons of war that can be deployed on the human mind in the conflict of life. It can derail even the most perfect family from the tracks they run.
An idealistic existence, gone in the blink of an eye.
Child loss was the bombardment that pushed our locomotive over the precipice. The drop simply to far to continue as we were. The pain as a family can numb you in a way no anaesthetic or amount of Ice could ever achieve.
For the immediate aftermath, all you can do is survey the wreckage of your life that is now lying in flames before your eyes. Survival mode kicks in and you take shelter in any safe haven you can find. This can come in the shape of family and friends. Sometimes the ones you least expect will have their door open, ready for the casualties of the war raging in your mind. Comfort and empathy cannot take away the piercing pain. It can, however, allow the battlefield aid that can pull you through the immediate danger.
Some you would have banked on being that beacon of hope will sadly extinguish the flame on sight. No lights on an empty runway you desperately wanted to land. It hurts. Even a decade later it hurts. More will switch off as time goes by, however, you will be astonished by the new friendships fate ushers into your path. Sometimes the faces you can only place on a monitor are stronger than the ones you call family and friends.
After a while, at the station of Limbo, you can move on with your life. To stay any longer risks more pain as the darkness circles looking for more souls to entice.
Your vehicle may be beyond repair sadly, however you can start again. With a new normality in hand, you learn how to craft a new engine and a new direction is underway. Is it as fast as before? That’s up to you, the driver. There is no right or wrong. There is no reverse, the past is left behind although constant reminders remain every time you pull into a new station of life. Many challenges will await. Sadness and Joy will be on almost every stop, depending on which way the signal box of life decides to swing that day.
There will be occasions of exhaustion. Scarred from the battles you have seen yet no physical Mark’s show. A fractured mind to some is as painful as any bruise or broken bones. It’s difficult carrying such scars in a world full of judgement and scorn. If you are lucky, a sympathetic ear will listen and offer love and reassurance of empathy and understanding. Sadly there are occasions when some will never understand the conflicts you have survived and continue to face every day.
It’s difficult when you reach a station where you are turned away. Even worse when ridiculed. As a bereaved parent, you would never wish anyone to walk a mile in your shoes. Suffering you would never bestow on anybody. For me, it makes the rejection a little easier. Without that walk through your very own battlefield being replayed every single day, there is a mutual understanding that can never be fully met.
Taboo is one of the worst places you can visit. Unwelcoming and cold, not a place any bereaved parent will ever feel safe. Words being captured at the thought stage and sentenced to life in silence without a judge, jury or executioner. For too long it’s been a place that has left its mark. Thankfully it’s quite a vast space. If enough of you are there together it can change. The more voices joining together as one can overpower any negativity deployed to silence you.
I’m writing this as one of those parents who have broken through this barrier with the help of others. We say the name of our children without fear. We take a sledgehammer and break down the walls of society preventing us from moving on with our healing process. Taboo is now crumbling and no longer a destination we have to encounter.
Hope is always the most powerful navigation tool you can possess. Even in the darkest moments, if you can find a glimmer, no matter how faint, it can pull you through the tunnel and out the other side.
Even if your onward journey for life stays on the track, the scars will always remain even if locked away for a rainy day in the back of your mind. They can escape on days you least expect and with it carry a tidal wave of emotion you cannot avoid. It can be over in minutes or over in hours or days. It’s a storm that no supercomputer can predict. Causing the brakes to be applied and a lockdown you can’t stop. My own experience has been to find somewhere the world can’t see me as my emotions battle within my heart. There is no right or wrong. You can face it alone or even cry for help. As long as you emerge from the barrage is all that matters.
Mental health is not something you can shut down with a switch. It’s a vital cog in the machine. It can be repaired but sadly the specialist help required is not always available. Either overstretched, a postcode lottery or relying on charity for a service we so badly need. For what it’s worth, some amazing charities give so much, yet even they have limits.
As a parent in the Highlands, it’s difficult. There is not always readily available face to face help, especially in the remote areas. At one of the darkest times, you will ever face you are cast into darkness.
Do you lose friends? Sadly yes. The hidden scars, as well as the battles going on behind closed doors, are lost on some and they will fade away.
Can you fight back? Yes, you can. You will be amazed at the new friendships you make along the way. It’s a club you join that's exclusive. You never wish anyone else to do so but when a new member arrives, a sense of companionship kicks in and togetherness shines.
We need to do more. I’m writing this full in the Knowledge that whilst some will show sympathy and empathy, there will always be the screenshot brigade who mock and sneer. I’m not afraid to put my head above the parapet to let others know they are not alone. As a society, we have made huge strides. We can have the debate now about our children taken too soon. We can talk openly thanks to charities fighting our corner. Society has changed their course dramatically over the last 2 decades and hopefully, we can alter it even more.
More specialised support is urgently required for families affected by child loss. Too many slip the net and this isn’t fair or just. Access is required to give every single person a fighting chance of keeping their new train on the track they deserve without fear of another derailment. No more postcode lotteries, no more families becoming just another statistic.
I promised Kyle I would never give up. I know so many other parents have done the same and that gives me the courage and hope to carry on even when I’m tired and broken inside.
We can ride this train together. Forever and a day. 💙🌈🌠
Michael McGuire
Founder Anam Cara Fasgadh
Photo by Michael & Christa Richert