A Light for My Path

About two months after my younger daughter died in a car accident, I wrote the following in my journal:

Don’t ever think you don’t make an impact on the world. Consider this. One young woman dies, but here are all the people the world lost: a wife, a daughter, a sister, a niece, an aunt, a daughter-in-law, a sister-in-law, a cousin, a friend, a co-worker, a mentor, a seeker, a leader, a believer. You may take up a tiny space in the universe, but you fill a large chamber in many hearts.

Rachel and her husband had only been married two months when she died. At some point soon after we lost her, he expressed that losing a spouse was harder than losing a child because you specifically choose the person who is your spouse. You don’t choose your child.

Now, if you are a bereaved parent, I know you most likely have a visceral reaction to that statement. I think most of us who are grieving the loss of a child would say it’s the hardest loss to bear. I didn’t argue with or contradict my son-in-law, but my head and my heart didn’t agree with him. It did take me some time though (honestly several years) to put his assertion into perspective.

He and Rachel didn’t have children. He has never been a parent. Still, he has certainly experienced hard losses. In fact, his father passed away suddenly just three months before their wedding.

At this stage in my life, I’ve had my share of mourning loved ones. Both my parents, all my grandparents, and all my aunts and uncles have gone to their heavenly home. I have lost cousins, classmates, dear friends, and neighbors. I have not experienced the loss of a sibling. I have not experienced the loss of a spouse. I don’t have an internal frame of reference for how it feels to lose your soulmate.

When I sat in that church at my daughter’s memorial service and listened to the words so many people spoke about Rachel – many of whom I did not know – I learned new things about her. Until I stood in line and shook countless hands and was hugged by a myriad of kind people, I had no idea Rachel had left an impression on so many souls.

All the people at that service and many others who sent notes, called, or spoke to me later were missing the same person. And for those of us who were closest to Rachel, one’s grief doesn’t overshadow another’s. My son-in-law and I (and many others) are each grieving our own personal loss, but we are all grieving for the same person. Grief is not a contest. We all come to it from our individual experience.

It’s just a matter of perspective.

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Laura