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#1 Coping with mashup Grief; I've learned one thing for sure.

Updated: Mar 26

January 16, 2024

Today starts the journal.

Ten months and seven days following Quincy's death; my son's death.

Today starts the day that I share my words about Quincy and my own experiences in grief's loops; both from the past, and as I go. I wonder sometimes if there are other moms out there, who may find some sort of connection with me in this journey, and maybe this is a way to find connection.

(For something that is not really supposed to have rules, grief in death sure comes with its own set of predictions and expectations). So. Here. We. Go.


The story of Quincy's death can be read on his Tribute Page, and I don't really want to start this blog there. However, you should know that I will talk about the incidents surrounding his death to just about anyone. It doesn't hurt to talk about it; I am open with it, and there has not been one single question that I have not felt comfortable answering. Yes, it is indeed a horrific and unbelievable realty; but I am not opposed to sharing the details, and I think there are likely good emotional reasons behind that.


So let's start there: A little about me as a mom, and what my feelings are today, ten months and seven days after our beautiful Quincy's death. I know I have learned one thing for sure.. (Stick with me...I may be all over the place for a bit until I play catch up).


I am a mom of darn near grown kids. I don't consider myself a helicopter mom (I have never really been the lady bailing my kids out of their own messes-and I hope they are better for it).

I tried to take with me into motherhood my own positive generational experiences, which certainly include independence and trial by trial, rather than having an adult there to pick up my youthful pieces and make all of the decisions for me (Thank you mom and dad, really!). I hope I threw some of that on to my kids. I set a firm focus on high expectations, love, intentional praise, crime/consequence alignment, a no threat zone, forgiveness, modelling and grit through the hard...I made some big mistakes along the way.

... I really want what most parents want; to do my best, build and foster a beautiful relationship with each of my children, and hope that I've built strong little beasts along the way. The only thing I know is that it sure is easier to find my faults than to relish in what I might be doing well. Parenting is brutal and beautiful, and... complex; at least, I don't feel like anyone ever gave me the honest truth about it, before I jumped in...Likely because it's quite impossible to describe.


But you know, I did most of the regular things that moms do...those years of frantic sports running, sleepless baby feeding nights and childproofing are over. I remember hearing "it gets easier" when your kids get older. I beg to differ. I don't think it gets easier; it just gets different. It's always hard. I don't care how old I get, or how old my kids get.


What comes with grown children, is a whole other set of parenting worries. Sure, we aren't talking about guarding them from hot stoves anymore-but the protection piece? It never goes away. And I am here to tell you that not even in death, does that feeling or role leave a parent. This mother shield that is built into us? The swords ablaze and brain work that we go through? Yeah, that is there forever. As I sit here today, I continue to protect my son and his life; even and especially after his death. For always. So let's start there for now; with the understanding that I think I have finally figured out at least one sliver of parenting. That a glorious "aha" about being a parent lies with the fact that my fight and love for my son hasn't changed, lessened, waivered, and never will. For in all of this uncertainty, this is fact. How great is this sort of love?


So as this blog moves on, I will write as I will. No rules. No expectations. I can see myself telling stories about Quincy; good ones and tough ones. I want to explore my emotions, because I don't think this roller coaster really ever stops. I want to learn as I go too, and the hope is that there might be someone out there reading this that might need someone to relate to. Or maybe my family and friends can use this to check in on me. Either way, words are good for me; so I will keep writing.



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