Shortly after Daniel died, my very good and longtime friend, Bill Dobos, gave me a book titled, “Lament for a Son” written by Nicholas Wolterstorff. The book is about the author’s grief after losing his son in a mountain climbing accident. There is so much in this book to which I can relate. The boy’s death was unexpected; he was in his 25, Daniel was 28; his father sometimes got angry with him over the boy’s self-centeredness, etc.
In one chapter, Wolterstorff speaks about his friend whose son committed suicide a few weeks before his own son died. Following is from his book and is worth repeating here:
The pain of his (the one who killed himself) life was so intense that he took the life that gave the pain. I thought for a time that such a death must be easier to bear than the one with zest for life. He wanted to die. When I talked to the father, I saw that I was wrong.
Death is the great leveler, so our writers have always told us. Of course they are right. But they have neglected to mention the uniqueness of each death –and the solitude of suffering which accompanies that uniqueness. We say, “I know how you are feeling.” But we don’t.
This section made me realize that even though I have lost a son, my experience, thoughts, feelings and grief are different from everyone else who has also lost a loved one to death. Each of us deal with such losses in our own way. One of the best things a person can say to someone like me during this time is, "I am sorry for your loss. I am praying for you." This shows compassion and brings comfort to the grieving person.
In one chapter, Wolterstorff speaks about his friend whose son committed suicide a few weeks before his own son died. Following is from his book and is worth repeating here:
The pain of his (the one who killed himself) life was so intense that he took the life that gave the pain. I thought for a time that such a death must be easier to bear than the one with zest for life. He wanted to die. When I talked to the father, I saw that I was wrong.
Death is the great leveler, so our writers have always told us. Of course they are right. But they have neglected to mention the uniqueness of each death –and the solitude of suffering which accompanies that uniqueness. We say, “I know how you are feeling.” But we don’t.
This section made me realize that even though I have lost a son, my experience, thoughts, feelings and grief are different from everyone else who has also lost a loved one to death. Each of us deal with such losses in our own way. One of the best things a person can say to someone like me during this time is, "I am sorry for your loss. I am praying for you." This shows compassion and brings comfort to the grieving person.
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