![]() it’s hard to describe the pride of watching your son grow into a man and find his way in the world.īut while we know they love us, their lives no longer spin around their mother as their main axis. ![]() Our eyes still light up when we see them. Her eldest son was leaving school and we commiserated over the fact that our boys’ eyes used to light up when they saw us. I’m still crying though and this feeling of living loss is very strange and hard to process.Īmanda Keller cried about this when I interviewed her recently. I have met and interviewed many grieving parents and what they wouldn’t give to experience the kind of soft grief I’m talking about as opposed to the soul-ripping grief of actually losing a child. Not at that age.Īnd now I'm crying as I write this and it’s a grief that feels indulgent and almost insensitive because last week I met a woman whose son died earlier this year after being diagnosed with leukaemia two years ago. Except when Facebook sends you those bloody memory reminders that invariably make me cry because it’s like showing me the face of someone I can never see again. You never get to properly say goodbye to all the little people who grow up because you don’t notice the growing, the changing. And you never ever notice the inflection point where one of those people turns into the next. There’s the newborn, the baby, the toddler, the pre-schooler, the primary aged kid, the pre-teen, the adolescent, the full-blown teen, the young adult and then the adult. There are so many batshit crazy things about being a parent and one that definitely wasn’t in the brochure is the way you don’t actually parent one person, you parent many, many different people who are all your child.
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