We want to protect those we love. Unfortunately, that’s not always possible.
When something happens and a loved one is taken from us, regret and guilt often come visiting. This article, taken from the newly released Comfort for the Grieving Parent’s Heart, delves into the intense struggle our hearts can have with guilt.
No matter what your loss, chances are you will be able to relate…
FROM THE GRIEVING HEART:
I have failed. I’m your parent. I should have protected you.
That’s part of my job – protection. I swore to myself early on that I would take care of you and never let anything harm you. I would gladly lay down my own life to save yours.
I’ve protected you since you were born. Yes, some bad things happened to you. I blame myself for many of those too. I thought those hurts and hardships were so big back then. I didn’t have a clue. They were nothing. Nothing at all, compared to this.
But now this has happened. You’re gone. I’m left here.
I failed you. I’m responsible for this. I didn’t protect you. I didn’t act. I should have known.
I don’t know what to do with this. The pain is excruciating. My thoughts torture me day and night. I’m a sorry excuse for a parent.
What parent can’t protect their own child?
This can’t be real. No. It just can’t.
When we can’t protect those we love…
When our child came out of the womb, they were completely dependent on us. They could do nothing for themselves and relied on us for everything. They were so small and vulnerable. They were amazing, perfect little miracles. We held them and gazed at them in awe.
Our child. They were ours. Part of us. Even if they were adopted, our hearts attached and intertwined with theirs. Yes, this was meant to be.
Many of us were also semi-terrified. We were now responsible for this little life. We watched them all the time. We were hyper-aware and hyper-vigilant. We were constantly scanning for anything that could be a potential threat to this precious new life that had been entrusted to us.
Yes, they were entrusted to us. Our job was to provide everything they needed and to protect them from everything harmful. No matter how old our kids are, those original parental instincts are still active. All it takes is a need or a danger to activate them.
Now our child is gone. They have been taken from us – ripped from our watchful, loving arms. Something took them and we didn’t stop it. We didn’t protect them. We failed. Our hearts writhe in agony.
Of course, we logically know that we are not all-powerful and that we don’t know everything. But as a parent, for the sake of our children, we expect ourselves to be both of these. When something bad or painful happens to our child, it’s naturally our fault.
When pain or tragedy comes to our children, logic gives way to the heart. They are our children. We are their parents. We nurture, love, provide, and protect. Period.
No wonder we’re devastated. Not only is our child gone, but we’re to blame. The guilt can be stifling. The emotional pain is more than words can possibly describe.
We must take our hearts seriously. We must begin to process this powerful sense of guilt and responsibility for what happened. We couldn’t protect them, and our hearts must feel their way through this. We must find healthy ways to express this festering guilt and get it out.
We breathe deeply. In through the nose, and out through the mouth. Over and over. We express what’s happening inside us. We talk, write, and share. As we give our hearts the space they need to grieve and mourn, we will see things more clearly over time.
Affirmation: I didn’t protect you. Perhaps I couldn’t. That’s hard to swallow. Protection has been my job for so long. I’ll let my heart feel this pain. You’re worth mourning for.
Adapted from the newly released Comfort for the Grieving Parent’s Heart: Hope and Healing After Losing Your Child.
Additional Recommended Resources:
Grief Soundbites – Guilt: Gary Roe YouTube
My Guilt List Has No End – The Grief Toolbox
I could protect Matt from everything and everyone EXCEPT HIMSELF!,
Hi Mary. I’m so sorry. Yes, we can’t protect our kids from themselves. So painful. Please be kind to yourself, Mary.