She said, “The holidays are hard, but we get
through those. It’s the anniversary that
is the hardest day.”
The bereaved parents’ support group I facilitate
has a concentration of its losses in March.
Over half of our families observe the anniversary of their child’s death
during this same month. So, when we
gather in March, the sorrow is palpable.
Faces wear the strain as bodies remember this time of year. There are simply some experiences that live
in us, no matter how much meaning-making and acceptance we struggle to bring to
them.
And so, it is at this very time when the support
group does its best work by holding all the remembered sadness and the remembered
gift together in an honored and safe place.
Each year, as our stories grow more dense and detailed, we touch the
deep significance of this gathering together . . . where else could we tell our
stories than in this circle of understanding?
If you asked
this gathering of parents what advice they have for getting through “the
hardest day”, I suspect they would agree that trying to hide from its impact
will not work . . . . and might even be harmful. The power of its memory is a testament to the
importance of the relationship that has had to change so drastically. So, its intensity is honest and, as time goes
on, these complex memories will soften as our shared strength heals us all.
The depth of “the hardest day” fully felt is
equaled only to the depth of love that grows ever stronger.
