The Journey to Healing: Michelle's Story
I feel I need to include the story of Michelle as she is part of my grief journey. My son Mike died Tuesday, October 15, 2024. I got the phone call at 1030 that night and my world was forever changed. Mike was my light and suddenly my world was dark. I didn’t sleep that night at all. I wasn’t sure I was going to keep breathing. I couldn’t function, paralyzed by the weight of my grief. My husband immediately took charge and started making phone calls and figuring out what to do next. That day is still a blur to me.
We had an appointment on Thursday afternoon to meet with the funeral home. We were getting ready to leave and as I was taking the dogs out back, I noticed a doe, lying behind our greenhouse. Deer visit our yard a lot as we have a wooded area at the back of our fenced in yard. They jump the fence easily to partake in all my greenery. I love that they visit. It was unusual however to see a doe in the upper part of the yard. When she saw us, I think it frightened her, and she stood to make her getaway. We noticed she was limping, holding up her right back leg as she walked. She made her way to the back wooded area where she would be safe.
Later that afternoon, after a traumatic visit to the funeral home, I walked to the back to see if she was still there. There she was in all her beautiful glory. As I got closer, I could see she had a broken leg. My guess is she was hit by a car and made it to our house where she felt she would be safe. Seeing her struggle with her broken leg, my heart shattered further, overwhelmed by both her pain and my own. I contacted all sorts of rescues and even the DNR and they all said there was nothing they could do except euthanize her. Nope! Not a good answer. I spoke with a ranger who gave me info on caring for her and what to watch for should her condition decline.
I now had a purpose. Something I could focus on besides the death of my son. I named her Michelle. I don’t believe it’s a coincidence that Michelle showed up in my yard that day. Mike always knew how much I adored all animals, often joking that our house was a sanctuary for all creatures, great and small. I think my son sent her to me. He knew that we needed each other.
Michelle is now Nextdoor famous! People I don’t even know ask about her and stop by to bring fruit for her.
Here we are 6 months after Mike died, and Michelle is still here. She is expecting now so I’m looking forward to that. Her leg is healed. She walks with a bit of a limp, but she can clear fences just fine now. She makes my heart happy. She has been my therapy deer, and I don’t know if I would have survived those first few weeks without her to take care of. Angels sometimes have 4 legs.
Lynn
I’m not new to grief. That just sounds wrong, but it’s true. I lost my Pop Pop who I adored when I was 7. That was my first experience with death/grief, and I can’t say that I had a firm understanding of the whole thing. I just knew I really missed him. That was in 1967.
My dear Dad was diagnosed with cancer, and we lost him a short 6 weeks later in 2009. My world crumbled. He was my rock, my advisor, my friend. With my dad's loss, my dear mother’s struggle with Parkinson's dementia intensified, leaving her lost without her love of 55 years. Dad was her caretaker. I don’t know what hurt the most; losing Daddy or watching Mom without him. My sweet Mom passed away in 2015 putting an end to her suffering but again leaving a void in my life, but I knew she was finally at peace. The world I knew was such a different place without them there to guide me and I still miss them to this day.
My youngest brother, Bobby, died suddenly of cardiac arrest in 2018. Again, my world shifted on its axis. Then 4 short years later, I lost my oldest brother Lee to cancer in 2022. I should have been an expert on grief and loss by then. I was not!
October 15, 2024, my only son Michael passed away from sudden cardiac arrest at the age of 41. He was on vacation in Ohio with his BFF/cousin and was having a ball. No signs or symptoms of what was to come. The sheer suddenness of his death left me in a state of shock, overwhelmed by a grief so profound that I felt as if the very ground beneath me had been swept away. No amount of previous experience with loss could have prepared me for the devastating impact this would have on my life.
I tell you all of this to say that grief just always hits differently. It felt different with each of my losses. While they were all profound losses, each encounter with grief was different. Don’t expect your grief to look like someone else's. Don’t even expect it to look like your previous encounters. Expect the unexpected as they say.
In the aftermath of each loss, I found myself navigating an unpredictable sea of emotions. No matter how many times I faced grief, it would always present itself in a new and devastating way, challenging my resilience and understanding. Though I expected to be prepared, each encounter shattered my heart in unimaginable ways, leaving me grappling with sorrow, memories, and the aching absence of my loved ones. Grief is a relentless storm, reshaping one's existence, and teaching that despite its familiarity, its impact never diminishes.
Walking this path with you all and holding you close
Lynn
Living With Child Loss
I got up this morning, made the coffee and walked into the bathroom. I turned on the light and laying on the floor is my pink hair tie. Now the thing is, it’s my favorite one and I lost it about a year ago. It just disappeared. I accused Mike of stealing it. Of course he said he didn’t. When John got up I asked him where he found my hair tie. He didn’t know what I was talking about. Hmmm, it wasn’t there when I went to bed last night.
I guess Mike had it all along.
Thanks, Mike, for returning it!
The Pink Hair Tie
