The prejudices of grief

Yes, there are prejudices even in grief.  That somehow if your child died of a drug overdose or suicide that your grief is not as valid as say, an accident or cancer.  No really, its true.  Some parents feel that they need to apologize almost for the way their child died, to explain away their grief….to not talk about their child because their lives were not “upstanding”, but instead filled with harshness and suffering. How heartrending to hear a parent say that not many miss their son or daughter, that their lives did not touch others, that they continually failed in their attempts to get “back on track.”

I remember being furious after reading one of the news stories out of Minnesota on Justin’s car accident. The question that was posed about alcohol being involved.  I was livid, enraged…screaming mad. I wanted to throw the computer screen through the window. How dare anyone write ….“awaiting toxicology reports”…up yours, really.  Because at the heart of it, did it matter?  Would his death been any less horrifying…would that have made being trapped in a vehicle and drowning more palatable…even justified to experience a terrifying death?  Would then people be less burdened with feeling sad because, well…after all…he had been drinking. Does it lessen the grief?   Goodness knows that we have all lived lives of such perfection that no need to spare compassion if someone has been an ass…right?  I mean that is what Jesus said when He was dying…“golly what asses they all are, I am outa here” and left the cross. No, wait…He said “Father, forgive them”….

Where is the greater tragedy?….in the loss of life or the loss of compassion?  True compassion, not this sanctimonious illusion of caring that is often displayed when a death is one that is spoken of in hushed voices.   Not the superior condescension of those who say “well, if they had been better parents this would not have happened” or “I would have done things differently”, or even “what did they expect, look how they were raised”.  We are so awful to each other.  Are we so afraid to knock down the walls in our pharisaical hearts to love as we have been called to love?

And you know what else really frosts me?  People who limit God’s mercy, who put limits on who and what God can redeem.  Christ said He makes all things new.  How horrid to say to a young person that their mistakes will permanently ruin their lives, that their chances of enjoying stability is forever tainted, ruined…beyond redemption.  Jesus had some choice words for people who cast life long sentences on the wounded.  Where is the hope if we don’t tell them of a God who can cast their sins in the ocean of His Mercy?  That all can be rebuilt and that their past makes them who they are today, that their past gives them compassion that will lead others through despair.  Their past should humble us to our knees in response to their courage to go on.

Careful with how thick you lay on the “advice” while your children are young and have been kept safe.  Acknowledge the extraordinary grace in your life that your children are healthy and pure, and most of all, alive.

Grief knows no color, no religion, no social status, grief unites people like nothing else.  White collar, blue collar, tattooed, pierced, suit and tie, heels and flip flops…all barriers disappear.  Shoulder to shoulder you stand watching butterflies slowly stretch their wings, and say to each other with voices choked with tears “aren’t they beautiful, just like our children.”

PS:  To that reporter in Minnesota, his tox screen was clean, thanks for asking.