The things we dread.
Sometimes I wonder if the things we dread most are destined to happen to us at some point in our life. Is that why we fear and dread the thought of something? I’ve heard it called a self-fulfilling prophecy. But I wonder if it’s our soul preparing us for the inevitable. Our life is a journey filled with experiences, both wonderful and tragic. I have been told that we choose or accept the circumstances of our lives before we are born. Maybe we do. Maybe that’s why our worst fears seem to come true during our lifetime. Maybe a part of our soul knows what is going to happen and prepares us along life's journey in subtle little ways.
Looking back, I feel like I was being prepared for losing Lauren. My heart knew for a long time what my mind could not fathom. I could not even think of the possibility of losing one of my children. I would put the thought out of my mind any time it tried to creep in. But now I feel like I was being prepared a long time before it happened.
I held my friend June’s hand for many months as she grieved the loss of her beautiful 24 year old daughter, Kari. June and I worked together and spent 8 hours a day in the same room at the time of Kari’s fatal accident. In an effort to help June, and not make her feel worse, I tried to learn as much as I could about grief and the loss of a child. I read books on the subject, and I made a commitment to be with June whenever she needed me. My heart was broken for my friend, and I wanted to be there for her in any way that I could. My children were small at the time, and I could not imagine living through the pain that I witnessed firsthand. I remember feeling guilty sometimes because she had experienced so much pain, and I had not. I realize now that walking with her through her pain was a precursor to my own. I had the opportunity to reflect on her experience, and to put it into perspective for my own circumstance. In the very moment of losing Lauren, I remember thinking, now it’s my turn. I knew some of the choices I wanted to make beforehand because I had l watched June live through it. I had learned about the pain of graveside visits through watching my friend painfully tend her child’s grave. I had reflected on the fact that I would have no more physical connection to my child. I saw June grieve the loss of what would never be for her daughter, the unborn grandchildren, never seeing her grow into the person she was supposed to be, the loss of a best friend and a piece of her very soul. The moment I realized that Lauren was gone I knew these things to be my new reality.
The whole time I held my friend’s hand, I had no idea I was holding my own as well. I was learning how to live with my future pain by watching June. Her pain was always a safe distance from my life, until the day my turn came. The dread flooded over me as we drove from our house to the accident. I kept remembering June, and what she went through as I realized that what happened to June was happening to me. I remember June describing the kinship between bereaved parents as the club that no one wants to join, and my worst fear for many years had been a membership to that club. In the midst of the nightmare, I wondered if that’s why June and I had come together during that moment in our lives. Was part of my being there for her a preparation for my own destiny? I do remember feeling eerily prepared by my experience with June and the loss of her daughter. For a brief moment, I was slightly comforted in knowing that I watched my friend June make it through this, and I knew that I would too.
Tara Rodney
12/9/11