The grief that accompanies the death of someone you love can smash you like a tonne of bricks, and take away your ability to remember how to breathe. And regardless of who you are, it is undoubtedly something that you will most likely experience throughout your life. It can be a challenging path to navigate, and it is important to remember you are not alone. In this ongoing series, we connect with our readers and discuss their experiences with loss, grief and healing. For this issue we interviewed David. He shares a father’s perspective on losing a child.
“If we feel sad, we let ourselves feel sad. It’s just that choosing to remember the happier times helps us feel less sad all the time.”
Kim: David, you lost a child many years ago. Can you tell us about that?
David: I did. My son was two years old when he passed away. It came out of the blue, and we are still unsure what happened. One minute Timmy was outside, playing in his sandpit; he came in for a nap and then didn’t wake up. I was at work at the time, and my wife was hysterical when she called to tell me what had happened. She was still waiting for the ambulance to arrive, so she wasn’t sure what to tell me. It is still a blur for both of us. Although we went on to have other children, it still hurts.
Kim: What was that like from a father’s perspective?
David: I’ve never really been able to find the words, and every time I try, I don’t even come close. I dreamed of being a father for a long time, and when Timmy died, all those dreams vanished. I wouldn’t do any of those things with him. It broke my heart. It took me a while to show any emotion around other people. My wife was the only one who saw me cry, and even that was rare. I felt I needed to be the strength for her, too; she was inconsolable inwardly and outwardly. I love her so much, so being there for her was my priority.
Kim: Were you able to find some solace?
David: Not for a while, to be honest. I would sit in his room late at night after my wife slept. I would sit there, look at his toys, hold his clothes in my hands, and imagine him laughing as he played with his little trucks. That became my sanctuary, the place where I felt I could openly grieve and not be the strong one for once. That release helped, and somewhere along the way, I smiled more as I sat there instead of crying. It took a long time, though.
Kim: Do you still grieve now?
David: Yes, both myself and my wife do. However, we made a promise long ago to find the joy and laughter in our memories, not the sadness. We were lucky to have each other to turn to, even now.
Kim: Do you find that a positive attitude helps?
David: Yes, but that has come with time and practice. I used to find it a lot harder because I would feel guilty if I caught myself laughing. I also want to be clear. Our positive attitude isn’t about ignoring what happened or not allowing ourselves to feel our grief or avoid it. If we feel sad, we let ourselves feel sad. It’s just that choosing to remember the happier times helps us feel less sad all the time. We find ease and peace in it. We needed that, especially my wife; she had nightmares for years.
Kim: What would your advice be to someone struggling through the death of someone they love?
David: Give yourself time. Healing won’t happen overnight, and nor should it. Losing someone is heartwrenching and possibly the worst thing you can go through. So, find the support you need to get you through it because I promise you, there is ‘the other side of it where you can find yourself laughing easily again. It might take a while, but it’s not unachievable.













