by Kay Heitsch
Many people think they know how they would react if one of their children would ever die. I thought I did, too, until it happened.
Since I'm a pretty high-strung and emotional person, I thought I would have screamed, passed out, and fallen to my knees on the floor. However, when I heard the horrific news that my son, Todd, had died instantly in a car accident, I did none of these things.
Much to my surprise, I immediately went silent. I started to feel like I was in a nightmare. I was walking around, but somehow I was experiencing an out-of-body experience. I could see what was going on around me, but I was alone in my mind.
I may have seemed silent on the outside, but I was screaming on the inside! I was in a battle of disbelief and reality all at the same time. The war in my mind was fierce and draining. One thought was, "I don't, and I won't believe this has happened!" While another thought would be, "Kay, this is a true look at what you're doing."
I knew I was going through the motions of dealing with the death of my child. It became even more evident when I had to pick out the casket and clothes for Todd to wear. "Why was I doing these things if Todd really wasn't dead?"
Even after the funeral, I would drive down the road and think I saw Todd. The thought would come that maybe I had only been in a nightmare, and Todd would walk back through the door he went out of.
I did adjust to the fact that Todd was gone until it was time to move out of the house we lived in when Todd died. All of a sudden, the thought came, "What if Todd comes back and you're not here anymore, and he can't find you?"
Eventually, I did come to grips with the reality of Todd dying, but it took some time. I tell people you don't ever get over your child dying, but you will learn to live with the fact, but it takes time.
You may think you know how you would react to the death of a loved one. You may even have an opinion on how others should respond. To be honest, everyone will deal with death in their own way, and that's okay.
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