Tuesday, September 13, 2011

My Wish List

I borrowed this from a blog that I read who borrowed it from Cherubs literature called “Wish List for Bereaved Parents” I modified some of it with my own words.

1. I wish Aiden hadn't died. I wish I had him back. If there is a way to get him back in my arms, I’ll find it. I don’t really believe he’s gone.
2. I wish you wouldn't be afraid to say “Aiden”. He lived and was very important to me. I need to hear that he was important to you as well.
3. If I cry and get emotional when you talk about Aiden, I wish you knew that it isn't because you have hurt me. I never stop thinking about him, you didn’t remind me he’s gone. His death is the cause of my tears. You have talked about my child, and you have allowed me to share my grief. I thank you for both.
5. Being a bereaved parent is not contagious, so I wish you wouldn't shy away from me. I need you more than ever, even if I’m harder then ever to deal with.
6. I need diversions, so I do want to hear about you; but I also want you to hear about me. I might be sad and I might cry, but I wish you would let me talk about Aiden and Cole the weather and anything else.
7. I know that you think of and pray for me often. I also know that my child's death pains you, too. I wish you would let me know things through a phone call, a card or a note, or a real big hug. I’m so grateful for each and every time someone has reached out to us.
8. I wish you wouldn't expect my grief to be over in six months. These first months are traumatic for me, but I wish you could understand that my grief will never be over. I will suffer the death of Aiden until the day I die.
9. I am working very hard in my recovery, but I wish you could understand that I will never fully recover. I will always miss Aiden, and I will always grieve that he is dead.
10. I wish you wouldn't expect me "not to think about it" or to "be happy". Neither will happen for a very long time.
11. I don't want to have a "pity party," but I do wish you would let me grieve. I must hurt before I can heal. Sometimes that means I’ll say things I don’t mean or are irrational. Thank you for letting me say them anyway and not taking it personally.
12. I wish you understood how my life has shattered. I know it is miserable for you to be around me when I'm feeling miserable. Please be as patient with me as I am with you.
13. When I say, "I'm doing okay," I wish you could understand that I don't feel okay and that I struggle each minute to get through the day. And I hate that my life is just “trying to get through”
14. I wish you knew that all of the grief reactions I'm having are very normal. Depression, anger, hopelessness and overwhelming sadness are all to be expected. So please excuse me when I'm quiet and withdrawn or irritable and cranky.  Expressing myself, even if you did something to bring out my worst emotions, isn't meant to be an attack on you.
15. Your advice to "take one day at a time" is excellent. I wish you could understand that I'm doing good to handle it at an hour at a time.
16. I wish you understood that grief changes people. When Aiden died, a big part of me died with him. I am not the same person I was before he died, and I will never be that person again.
17. I wish very much that you could understand - understand my loss and my grief, my silence and my tears, my void and my pain. But I pray daily that you will never understand.

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