My Grief Wishlist (for the loss of any loved one)

As Ian's 2nd Yarzehit passed and the anniversary of September 15th, is right around the corner, I came across a version of this on Facebook. I think you can change my child to spouse, parent, sibling, grandparent, even friend. If you have been through grief, you will relate to this. If you are going through it, you will relate. If you have never been through this type of grief, keep this handy...it may help you one day.

I wish my child hadn't died. I wish I had him back.

I wish you would not be afraid to speak my child's name. My child lived and was very important to me. I need to hear he was important to you also.

If I cry or get emotional when you talk about my child, I wish you knew it isn't because you hurt me. My child's death is the cause of my tears. You have talked about my child, and you have allowed me to share my grief. I thank you for both.

I wish you wouldn't "kill" me again by removing his pictures, artwork, or other remembrances from your home.

Being a bereaved parent is not contagious, so I wish you wouldn't shy away from me. I need you now more than ever.

I need diversions, so I do want to hear about you; but I also want you to hear about me. I might be sad and I might cry, but I wish you would let me talk about my child.

I know that you think of and pray for me often. I also know that my child's death pains you too. I wish you would let me know those things through a phone call, a card or note, a real big hug.

I wish you wouldn't expect my grief to be over in six months. The first few years are traumatic for me, but I wish you could understand that my grief will never be over. I will live with the death of my child until the day I die.

I am working very hard on my recovery, but I wish you could understand that I will never fully recover. I will always miss my child and I will always grieve that he is dead.

I wish you wouldn't expect me "not to think about it" or to "be happy". Neither will happen for a very long time, so don't frustrate yourself.

I don't want to have a "pity party", but I do wish you would let me grieve. I must hurt before I can heal.

I wish you understood how my life has shattered. I know it is miserable for you to be around me when I'm feeling miserable. Please be as patient with me as I am with you.

When I say, "I'm doing okay", I wish you could understand that I don't "feel" okay and that I struggle daily.

I wish you knew that all of the grief reactions I'm having are very normal. Depression, anger, frustration, hopelessness, and overwhelming sadness are all to be expected. So, please excuse me when I'm quiet and withdrawn or irritable and cranky.

Your advice to "take it one day at a time" is excellent advice. However, a day is too much and too fast for me right now. I wish you could understand that I'm doing good to handle an hour at a time.

Please excuse me if I seem rude, certainly it is not my intent. Sometimes the world around me goes too fast and I need to get off. When I walk away, I wish you would let me find a quiet place to spend time alone.

I wish you understood that grief changes people. When my child died, a big part of me died with him. I am not the same person I was before my child died, and I will never be that person again.

I wish very much that you could understand my loss and my grief, my silence and my tears, my void and my pain. BUT I pray that you will never understand.

As I re-read this before posting, I want to point out that some of the comments above have gotten "easier" with time. I/we have healed some, but still have a long way to go. Our grief will come and go over the years. As our family continues to move through the days, weeks, months and years, we will always wonder what and where we would be had Ian not been sick and passed away. We will miss him when milestones should of happened for him, as we watch, with much pride and joy, as Becca reaches them. Remember to treasure, dream and live.