Broken Hearts

Last week Danny really started to actively grieve Gord. It broke my heart, and he was so overwhelmed with emotion he was scared of it and was unable to express himself. I was desperate for him to talk more, I felt so helpless.

This morning Danny started to talk.

It began with our early morning ritual where the three of us snuggle and share our dreams about the night before. I use to feel frustrated with the early morning start and I'm starting to really embrace this time. Danny and I talked about going skiing for a day over spring break. He was hoping he had more ski lessons but they have come to a close. I explained to Danny that I could ski with him and that I couldn't wait to see him action because I had been told he was such a natural. He replied sheepishly that he sometimes falls. I assured him that even the best skiers in world sometimes fall. It's part of being a great skier. He inquired," Did dad ever fall?"

"Oh yes!", I responded. " He always called it a yard sale."

Danny thought that was hysterical.

Danny has always been a bit of a ham. He loves to make others laugh and just seems to get humor.

Over breakfast Danny brought up the night Gord died. I was so present to him.

 " The noise", he said, " It was so loud."

He went on to explain that he  knew something bad had happened. With his head his demonstrated how when he came upstairs he looked into the living room and scanned the room by moving his head side to side. He was trying to make sense of what he saw.

He continued by saying that he saw dad lying on the floor and he immediately thought he was dead.

I added that the paramedics were there trying to save his life.

"Yeah,I  use to think they were bad guys but now I know bad guys are only in video games and movies.", he replied.

I assured Danny that no one killed dad, he died of a heart attack.

Confused, Danny asked, "But doesn't a heart attack mean he was fighting?"

My heart sank...I thought I had explained what happened that night. I had read that it is really important to be as truthful as possible with the details but somehow the truth got lost in translation.

I reexplained that a heart attack means your heart stops working. I further explained the role of the heart in the body. Danny showed mixed emotion..he seemed relieved to know his dad had died of natural causes but disappointed he hadn't known the truth sooner.

I pushed for a little more and asked him how he felt seeing all this transpire. I asked if he felt sad or scared.

I anticipated he would feel both. I imagined it would of traumatized him the same way it traumatized me, but to my surprise he said...." I was sad....because you were crying."

My son has seen me broken, and that breaks his heart.

Tears are streaming down my face right now.

I can't believe we have all had to endure this. I can't believe my two little boys had to witness something earth shattering... We have been robbed of our innocence, and Danny is only 5 years old. I can see in his eyes that he knows more than he should. He said he saw a video where blood shot out of a guy, and I convinced him that hadn 't happened when dad died. And Danny replied. " But that could happen to someone."

He already knows horrible, disturbing...life altering events can really happen. I'm having a hard time accepting this happened to us, I'm having a hard time understanding how we will be OK. Logically, I can see that we are all continuing to live, continuing to thrive but there is a part of me that fears there will be parts of us that never recover. I've been able to rationalize and intellectualize possible good that can come from such a horrible experience. But when it comes to my boys suffering..my boys having to cope with witnessing their own fathers death....I can't find the good...I feel lost.

Sometimes I feel devastated about the fact that Noah won't remember much about his dad. Gord was so in love with Noah. He loved Danny too of course. But Noah was his second born and he was so much more comfortable as a dad. It was like when Noah was born, Gord had all his confidence. He would come home from work and carry him around until bed time. It was such a special bond. I try to tell Noah all the time how much his dad loves him, I show him pictures of his dad carrying him.... loving him. I'm not sure it is registering.

But today I'm grateful that one of my sons may be spared from remembering the trauma.

Today my heart is broken. broken for my boys. The hardest part is knowing that the hardest part for them is seeing me broken.

I pray that God will heal our hearts and bring us to a higher understanding. My hope is that my boys and I still find a way to live full lives and find a way to believe that the world is still full of goodness, joy and beauty.I pray that we will be transformed by this experience that it somehow can bring goodness and healing to others, that we can use this experience to be compassionate...to be good!