Always a brother,always a son. Grief and family dynamics.

Our surviving son will never be an only child, so don’t call him one. Not that there is anything wrong with being an only child, but he will never be an only child. He will always be somebody’s brother, a much beloved brother. For 23 years his family dynamic was one that had an older brother who loved him. With the death of the older brother, the family dynamic changes, but not the brother part.

We have two sons. When asked, we will tell you that we have two children.  Ask more and you will eventually find out that one was killed. Almost two years of awkward, how do we answer these questions has hammered out new, firm responses from us. To deny Justin’s existence is to deny our very selves of our identity. We are and shall be forever, his parents. If speaking of our dead child makes you uncomfortable, that is your discomfort. Own it and deal. We are not virus carriers, you can’t “catch” anything from us, speaking with us will not bring your child’s death to your door. We make you think, I know, you think what it would be like if your child died and your brain shoves it away so quick cause you cannot bear the thought, its okay…we get it.

We are ontologically changed forever, who we are at the very core of our being is different. We won’t be back to “normal”, we won’t be back to “our old selves”, if you are waiting for us to “return”…not going to happen. For good, for bad, not a matter of won’t go back, quite simply, those selves of two years ago are gone. That family that existed before Justin’s death is not going to return either, each relationship will undergo profound change.

I attended a webinar that applied a group dynamic model to family grief. Part of the webinar was to draw our family, to physically draw a picture of our family before the death of Justin and then to draw one after his death. I had no idea what a heartrending task that would be and how illuminating it would be to take pencil and paper and draw. The simple shapes denoting the interior and exterior restructuring that was taking place within our family was a powerful visual.  The simple diagram confirmed what I had been feeling and sensing, our old self is a dim memory. Time, the presenter kept saying,  it takes time to restructure. Years, not weeks, not months….years.

Our relationships define us. The following is a run-down of those relationships affected by the death of a child: husband, wife, surviving children, extended family, church family, work group,  friendships.  Truly, every relationship we have will be touched by the death of our child.  Each of our relationships must undergo a reforming and restructuring. This massive undulation in our lives makes finding firm ground and peace nearly impossible at first. We don’t know who anybody is anymore, we don’t know who we are anymore. Time, he says again, this takes time.  Slowly confidence is gained in who we are, how we think, we grieve those secondary losses of friends and family in our lives that are the natural result of restructuring.

Balance, we seek balance. We need balance, we have to define what balance is for us. Grief is so individual, there are similarities – but we are snowflakes, each unique. Which is why the group dynamic model struck a chord and made such sense. We are snowflakes who have to work together to build a new structure. The presenter outlined four stages of progression for a family/group dynamic.

• We re-form.  Everyone is kind and loving, on best behavior.
• We storm.  We work out our individual differences and needs. Tensions arise, snarling and biting often occurs.
• We norm. We learn how to live in our new life, we become task focused, we approach a new normal, we learn who each other is all over again.
• We perform.  We work together cohesively, our “performance” climbs upwards.

This task is daunting, how is it to be accomplished?

I have written at the bottom of my notes, “If people are not helping us survive, they don’t need to be in our lives.”  What about taking it further?…replace survive with thrive. We are survivors, now we push to thrive.