kenneth

In one of my son's letters, he said: Grief is the price we pay for love. I've been reflecting on that a lot these days, now that I've got some time. Working remotely does have its perks (or not). Being alone with my thoughts can lead to dark places, I found out. We grieve in different ways. But I realize now that running away is not the healthy way to do it. The pain of losing my wife has been covered, dulled by the vast amount of meetings and work over the years. However I never really addressed it. The pain was shoved under the carpet, so to speak. I was able to get out of bed and keep the business running, but the price was terrible. My two sons were put in the back I never allowed them to grieve over the loss of their mother or in the case of the youngest, the mother he never got to know or meet. How do I start grieving in a healthy way? And how do I help my sons go about it too?

I found this website while surfing. I figured, why not. Years ago, my wife and our eldest son were in an accident. She did not make it. After 14 years of married bliss, I buried the woman I love, and I could not bear to look at the sons--our sons--she left behind. The youngest never got to know her. Few days ago, I got the call nobody expected. "Sorry to bother you, sir, I know you're busy. Wouldn't have called if the doctor didn't make me" that's the first thing my eldest said. He reluctantly told me he got covid and not to worry since he'll figure out how to pay his medical bills. This boy is my son, yet it felt like hearing a skittish intern from my office. As the doctor (a family friend) explained things, all I could think about was "Since when did I become 'sir' to him?" Then my youngest son was pleading with his brother not to die because "you're all I have left. I don't wanna be alone." It hurt to know that I'm not counted but I guess I deserved that. It took a desperate video call for me to realize that I botched things up. I dealt with grief the wrong way. What do I do from here?