mindfulness

There are many lost children in the world. We hear of “trafficking of children, often originating in Africa, and many other tragedies of lost children, the most recent being the apparent thousands of children killed in Gaza. I have seen many examples of “lost children” recently from many different perspectives including the loss of children to death, the loss of children from divorce issues, and the loss of children from their own decisions to depart from their parents in some way, not always pleasantly. Some examples:

• I have had the privilege of serving or attempting to serve many people in my office who have lost children to early deaths, this coming on the heels of our having lost our daughter four years ago. It seems remarkable that I have had six patients in the recent four or five years who have lost a child to an early death.
• I know of a man who has lost a second child after having lost his first child to death. This lost child has separated himself from his biological family, seemingly primarily from the father, for reasons that are not yet entirely clear.
• I have a patient, also someone with two adult children, both of whom have been lost to his wife and him. One of their children “came out” as being “trans” and has separated himself (herself) from his (her) parents because of his perception that they were not “affirming” of his new gender status. Their other child has simply been distant from his parents for reasons that are not entirely clear
• Another patient is in the midst of a contentious custody dispute as their divorce progresses. He has 3 biological children and one older child. His relationship with his older child is good and developing and his relationship with his seven-year old child is what to be expected with an elementary school child, but his relationship with the two middle children is quite problematic. One, the older of the two of them, is now in college but hasn’t communicated much to him about her desires in life while his 15-year old has refused to see him at all, allegedly from the standpoint of the father, due to the influence of the mother of these children.
• I know of a grandfather who has not had much of a relationship with his (only) grandson largely due to the fact several incidents that have happened over the past couple of years, one of which during the several months this young man lived with his grandparents during the beginning of Covid restrictions and another incident that was quite offensive to the grandfather when he stayed with them again a couple years ago.
• Another patient has is in a less than successful marriage, which has actually been unsuccessful for its 30 years of existence. Due somewhat to his wife’s behavior over the years, and due to his complicity with her desires for the children, now adults, there is a large rift between parents and children, albeit somewhat subtle.
• I know of many children who have never seen one or both of their biological parents, and many children who rarely or never saw their biological fathers.
• A man lost one child and nearly has lost another. This man is an evangelical and raised his children within that arena of faith. One child “came out” as trans and is evidently in the process of adjustment to his (now her) life. He has cut off all contact with his parents. The man is also less than satisfied with his relationship with his other son. Both parents are grieving, thinking, and wondering.
• I know of a man who only over the past two or three years did he have any contact with his daughter after a contentious divorce when the daughter was 4 or 5. Now, 15 years later they are finding their way together.

I know of many more such examples of “lost children”, often through unhappy marriages and other stressors in life. Likewise, I have known of stepparents who have continued good relationships even after the divorces and many feeling their stepchildren ripped from their hearts after a divorce.

What are the feeling associated with these lost children and their lost parents?

In a word: sadness. But then this sadness has migrated into various coping mechanisms, most of them not healthy or healing. I know of many parents and stepparents who have found some kind of addition to cope with their losses, whether chemical or behavioral. It is remarkable how people can not only “drown their sorrows” in alcohol but do a different kind of drowning with promiscuity, gambling, overeating, or isolation. None of these things actually helps. Many other people do not find addictions per se but find ways to hole up with their feelings and have a certain resistance to facing the feelings that they have. One of the cases I mentioned above has developed an attitude of “not caring” about his two lost children “if they’re going to act that way.” Other parents spend an inordinate amount of time complaining about the children, often in connection with complaining about ex-spouses. Some people simply keep all their feelings to themselves, usually finding some solace in addictive behaviors like TV-watching, video gaming, or eating. All of these ways of “coping” and “accommodating” to the loss of children are ways to avoid the real feeling: sadness.

What can be done to deal with the feelings associated with the loss of a child?

In a word: grieve. Deb and I allowed ourselves a good deal of time to face the loss of our daughter when she died four years ago including a “grieving trip” that we took to be away from home and the challenges of a life now without the life of our daughter. We talked to people, often random people like a cashier at a coffee shop or a passer-by at a waterfall that we saw, sometimes revealing out loss, sometimes our feelings trying not to burden the people who happened to listen to us. This speaking to people we knew and more often to people that we didn’t know allowed us to share the grief and end the grief.

I actually think it is easier to lose a child to death than it is to lose a child who is still living. I can grieve, and however hard grieving might be, it does end, and it always ends if I allow it to run its course. It is much harder for a parent to grieve the loss of a living child often because that child might live five blocks away (a real incident) or “might” come back into the parent’s life. So, how would a person “grieve” the loss of a child who lives 5 blocks away or a child of 15 who refuses to see you, or a stepson whose mother won’t let you see him? All of these require grief but all of them require different forms of grieving.

Grieving, if it is “finished,” as we say, does not change history. It changes the emotion associated with history. The resolution of PTSD is not in changing history, forgetting the loss that was caused the trauma. It is not complaining about the person, persons, or situations that caused the trauma. It is finishing the feelings that come when I have been traumatized. The loss of a child is a trauma in whatever form it comes. So if you have lost a child in some way who is still living (as I hope), your grief will need to be substantially different from someone like me who can simply (and profoundly) grieve for a certain amount of time and end it. How do you do this seemingly ongoing loss? Ongoing grief? No really.

I am reminded of a patient I saw for many years who was in a nursing home because he had deteriorating muscular dystrophy (MS). His loss was not of a child, per se, although he had lost the opportunity to be with his children and grandchildren due to his MS. His loss was the daily experience of not being able to move, feed himself and care for his bodily needs. I helped Jim (not his real name of course) to learn to grieve every day. At first, he thought this was crazy and would only make matters worse. I didn’t want him to complain and feel awful every day. I wanted him to find, face, feel, and finish the grief of not being able to move effectively. He slowly and painfully learned to grieve every morning, sometimes for seconds, sometimes for minutes, until his grief was finished for the day. They he could go about doing what he was able to do without feeling the burden of being disabled. Sounds impossible? It is not. Grief ends, it always ends, if you give it room, time, and place.

Grieving sufficiently

In this light I try to help parents face the lost children first and foremost recognize that they “have a love problem” as Deb and I say to patients all the time. A love problem means that I love something or have loved something that I have lost. This is the cause of grief, nothing less. If felt, it will finish, but usually grief is not sufficiently felt to finish, and people get used to the secondary emotions and accommodations that occur if they do not grieve sufficiently. This can be done is private or in the company of a friend, family member, or therapist, but to share grief with someone is not to get advice or even “support” but to share the grief with someone. A good friend (family member or therapist) actually enjoys the privilege of sharing the grief because that person is sharing in the love as well as the lost.

If you can grieve sufficiently, you will arrive at a place where you have accepted the loss. When you arrive at this place, you still love what you have lost but you are no longer grieving, much less anguishing, feeling angry or feeling fear. If you can get to this place, you might be in the place to do or say something, but you can’t do anything or say anything until you actually find the end of grieving, which is always the love you have for you loss. Grieving for the loss of a living child doesn’t mean giving up on him or her, much less giving up hope for some reconciliation and rekindling of the relationship. It means you aren’t angry anymore. It is very hard for a man or a woman to get beyond being angry at a former spouse for having caused a separation from a child but it is necessary before you take any kind of action or say anything to the child or the other person. We use the 10-2-1 rule, which means feel ten times, think twice, and then act or say something once. The problem is not in the action, it is in premature action (or words). The solution is to feel it until it is finished. Then you can think clearly so you can act or speak decisively. If it stops with feeling and you never think or never act, you have not been honest. Indeed, you may have to wait for months or years before you can speak or act, but eventually, you will need to do both. But only when you are free of anger and fear.