Saturday my wife and I went to a memorial service for the son of some friends of ours, he was 23. He was lost for a few years while battling drugs and alcohol. Now he is at peace.

What do you say to a friend who just buried their child?

How would you deal with the loss of a child?


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  1. immortal_pirate 3 months ago


    Losing a child is never an easy thing to have to deal with. I can only imagine what they are going through, as I have not lost either of my children. That being said, loss of a loved one is hard to deal with, having lost my wife of 31 years back in 2011. Fortunately, I have Lady Barbara to thank for getting me through the rough transition period. I had turned off my emotions during the initial phase of the grieving process just to be able to function and do the things that needed to be done. It was much later when I finally broke down and cried for the loss of my wife. That is when the healing began. All things happen for a reason and in their own time…

    I moved on. One has to move on. She is in a better place, a place without pain and suffering.


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  2. ladybarbara 3 months ago

    I have not lost a child of my own to death, so I would not know how to comfort that tragic loss. Perhaps there is no comfort, except the passing of time will make the pain ease. Having 2 sons of my own and 5 stepsons that I co-raised, I have experienced the loss of two stepsons. No one had the magical words that would make the grief less painful. Even I, in grief, had no words that would comfort the parents of both boys.

    The first stepson to die was 21. He died in a car crash on a winding country road, late at night. He was headed to the sleepy mining town of Julian, CA, to purchase a piece of strawberry pie for his pregnant wife. She wanted only the best of strawberry pies made by the Julian Cafe. The Cafe owner was glad to hold a piece of her pie until late at night. My stepson missed a curve in the road and drove off of a cliff. There were no words to console his pregnant wife. My alcoholic husband took the death as an excuse to dive into a drunken stupor that I turned my back on and walked away from. I had no words of comfort for the man whose bouts of drunken depressions made my life hellish. So, I simply packed my stuff and drove away. The rest of the family despised me for that. All I could say was that I was sorry for the loss to the family. It was not enough. No words were enough.

    As we stood at the grave, his brother requested that we purchase the neighboring grave. I had not noticed that the brother was reduced to skin and bones and looked like death warmed over. He had deep and dark circles around his eyes. He announced that he was sick with AIDS. His Grandmother had the money to put him in good hospitals and he got the best treatments, for those days. But he died before turning 20. My Mother-in-law had no interest in anything I had to say, and the drunk husband took to his drunken stupor and we fought. This was ended with him throwing a meat cleaver at me and slicing my cat in half. From that moment I was in self preservation mode. I got out of there and did not look back. I pressed charges and had my husband arrested. He did not attend the funeral and neither did I. The Grandmother, my Mother-in-law hated me with a white hate for getting out of there. I had no parting words, no words of attempted comfort. In my selfish coldness, I left the area and never contacted the family again. When I was in a safe place, I cried for the loss of both of my stepsons, but nothing anyone could say to me would make my grief less. Life had to go on —- one foot in front of the other.


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