Words by Stephen Aycock | Image by Ryan McGill
The most common question I receive from fellow grieving parents in the aftermath of losing a child is, “When will I feel normal again?” This question arises once the initial trauma has subsided and the stark reality of living without your child begins to sink in.
Losing a child is like a mental relocation. Picture your body as a house, with your heart serving as its innermost sanctuary. Envision physically moving and transporting all your belongings to a new dwelling – the inevitable shift in your sense of familiarity upon entering this new house. Despite the familiarity of our surroundings, we find ourselves in an altered state. The home we once knew undergoes an irreversible transformation, and the prospect of reverting to the past is nonexistent.
In moments of despair, we earnestly pray: “God, when will I once again begin to love all the things that used to bring me joy? When will I once again have a hunger for the life you gave me, and the thirst for daily living that presently eludes me?”
Yet, the Holy Spirit resides within us, a presence as real as any love we’ve ever known. His gentle words and silent musings, like the Psalms of the Bible, offer solace and wisdom if we open our hearts to hear.
He knows our pain, and through our tearful prayers of expression and desperation, He will dull the ever-aching pain of loss and warm the coldest hearts. Our new home will never hold the exact warmth it once had when our loved ones were with us, but there will be love just the same.
We must release our grief and allow the Holy Spirit to work within us. We must surrender to Jesus Christ because the burden we shoulder is far heavier than our ability to carry, and he will lighten our load with a tender touch and the whispers of hope. We must realize that the house our loved ones have gone to, the one they currently reside in, is filled with far more love and light than the one they used to live in, even considering the great love we had for them.
The question lingers: When will we feel normal again?
On this earthly plane, normalcy remains elusive for those who have lost a child. However, in Heaven, normalcy will be a magnificent sight, and a joyous reunion awaits.
I eagerly anticipate the laughter of all four of my sons under one roof in our new home, echoing the promise from John 14:2, “My father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you?” WL
