How to cope when the only son died. When grief happened...

People who survived the death of a son, especially the only one, sometimes have to suffer alone. No, of course, those around, especially relatives and close friends, are always there to support.

But often all the help that can be given to you comes down to the words “Life goes on” or “Be strong, we are with you.” But does this help you find the answer to the question, how to get over the death of an only son?

The pragmatic way

Each person experiences grief in his own way, but for many centuries, during which people have lost their mothers, children, beloved husbands and wives, friends, a pragmatic approach to the question of how to survive the death of a loved one. The period of intensified emotional experiences after the death of a loved one is conventionally divided into three stages.

First stage

This is shock, numbness, rejection what has already happened. During this period, people behave differently. Someone seeks solace in alcohol, someone plunges headlong into work, someone overpowers himself and takes on all the trouble of organizing a funeral.. Sometimes a person loses the meaning of life, especially if death has befallen a child.

What helps

Help massage, sedatives on herbs. Crying during this period is possible and necessary. Don't be embarrassed by anyone, tears are a natural reaction to great grief. This stage continues, the stage of shock, about nine days.

Second stage

This stage lasts about forty days. Perhaps a person still cannot come to terms with the loss, denies what happened, although he understands that a loved one cannot be returned. But this understanding does not yet give that peace of mind that a person in his soul wants to achieve.

What helps

During this period, a person may see a voice, the steps of a deceased son, he may come in a dream and try to speak.. If the same thing happens to you talk to your son in a dream, ask him to come. It is too early to let go of a dead person. Do not be shy about good memories, talk about the deceased with relatives, willingly share your experiences. If they can't help you in word or deed, they can at least listen. Tears during this period can also help to periodically recover. But if these periods continue almost around the clock, you need to contact a qualified psychologist.

Third stage

About a year after the death of your son, some kind of peace may come to you. Although a resurgence is possible. However, you are probably already learned to manage their grief know what to do to calm down. Get distracted by your favorite business, chat with friends, spend time with them together. If you have survived all these stages of the tragedy well, you can come to terms with the loss and learn how to live on. Yes, memories will torment you from time to time, but do not reject them. Sometimes you can cry, the main thing is that you will soon calm down and pull yourself together. After all, you have a family, it has not gone anywhere. Your relatives will help you, over time you will have a new incentive to live, to a happy life.

"By the way, you did not answer me where I ask you to quote where I forbid mourning for brothers and sisters"

I did not write "about you forbid to grieve." There are no such words in my statement. I wrote about the fact that you think that only the person who lived through it has the right to tell his grief, and all the others who wrote above, and there were also brothers and sisters, do not have the right to do so. Here is the post of the girl who wrote to you:

“Shmelik herself is such a mother ... However, her post also cut me off. A tragedy also occurred in my family and my mother left after her brother after 1.5 years and she will not write to a bumblebee or an author. And I myself, as a child, raised a brother instead of a mother from the beginning of my mother’s illness from the age of 4 until the age of 13, I don’t have the right to write about this, I “felt the pain differently” in the bumblebee it is even stronger.

You didn't tell her that she misunderstood, you didn't correct her in any way. Your answer was:

"Anonymous, well, let me smirk cynically at your remark. What could have cut you in my post like that? You must understand how, to put it mildly, it is not pleasant to listen to" horror stories"people (and who thank God did not survive this) about all this .. I can imagine how some kind of my neighbor writes here about me. N-yeah ..."

And what about the neighbors, and even a cynical smirk? She asked you directly why, in your opinion, she has no right to tell about her brother. you tell her about the neighbors, while grinning cynically. Most likely it was a misunderstanding, you just didn’t say it, since it goes without saying? But you didn't tell the man. and the impression was different.

Well, on the previous two quotes, I have already answered the post above.
"You really did not forbid grieving, you just said the following in response to grief"

Now it’s clear where the dog is buried, I didn’t say “for the manifestation of grief”, but for your statement that, from your point of view, it is impossible to share someone else’s grief, only the survivor himself should share it. That's what I meant by "react". That's it, nothing more, nothing less. When I said, you are wrong, I was talking about this statement, but you read for yourself "you are wrong in the manifestation of your grief." although I didn't mention it anywhere. now I understand your reaction to my approval of Elizabeth Sautter Schwarzer. And I couldn’t understand why you react like that, because I write that her statements were written in a separate article, in a recommendatory form. For some, her advice may be relevant, for someone like, I already wrote to you, they can do harm, since we experience grief in different ways. Now I understand, you thought that I condemned the manifestation of your grief, at the same time, I agree with her. :-) Yes, it's tricky. I did not condemn you, I wrote you are wrong in your statement in the first post, in my opinion. As you can see, I wrote "You are wrong" meaning only your statement in this topic, you read "You are wrong" meaning "manifestation of grief". Well, thank God, we figured it out and I think we will part ways on that. It's time already, now it is clear that these were discrepancies and nothing more.

Question from Irina, St. Petersburg:

When will the lectures be? How to learn to live again if the children died and do not want to live?

Tatyana Sosnovskaya, teacher, psychologist answers:

There is probably nothing worse in this world than when parents have to bury their own children. There is something wrong, something unnatural about it. The world turns upside down and turns from white to black. How to survive the death of children, when the whole life was devoted to them?

With the departure of children, meaning, and joy, and hope also disappear. Black burning and cold emptiness fills from the inside, not allowing to breathe, not allowing to live.

How to live if your children, your future is no more?

Unbearable pain, longing, despair - these are the feelings that a parent experiences when a child is lost.

The feeling of guilt from not saving, could not help in time, did not prevent the tragedy.

Anger at the one who is to blame, at the one who survived. To fate. On God, who allowed all this.

It's also hard to look at other children. Because they are alive, they make their parents happy. And my children are nowhere in this world. Except photos, videos and memories.

Memories are all that remain. Memories without hope for the future.

After the death of a child, life seems to shatter into smithereens. And it is not clear how to collect these pieces. And how to start living again. And most importantly, what is not clear - why live.

If such a tragedy has occurred in your life or in the life of your friends, please read this article to the end. We will try to help you get over the death of a child. System-vector psychology helps to cope with difficult conditions and find the lost meaning of life.

The most important thing is not to lock yourself in!

Surviving the death of a child alone is almost impossible!

Grief separates a person from the whole world. It's hard to look at other people. It seems that no one can understand: they did not lose their children! But the worst thing you can do is close yourself off from everything and shut yourself up in your grief. After the loss of a child, a huge void is formed in the soul of the parents, which was previously filled by the child. It becomes unclear what to do with free time, who to take care of, who to worry about. It seems that this void will never be filled.

But it's not.

Man is not made to live alone. Everything good and everything bad that we have, we get from other people. Therefore, to begin with, do not refuse the help of other people, do not hesitate to ask friends to be around or try to find the strength to leave the house.

When a person experiences such grief as the death of a child, it seems to him that his suffering is unbearable. But look around: has the suffering of other people ceased? Did other people's children stop dying?

All our children

The basic law of psychology: in order to reduce the pain of one's own suffering, one must help another. The system-vector psychology of Yuri Burlan reveals the meaning of the concept in a new way: there are no own and other people's children for the world. For the world "all our children".

Perhaps these words will sound a little harsh: but if your own children are gone, does this mean that no one else needs your help? Does this mean that there are no other children or adults who need your help?

After all, we love our children and take care of them not because we expect gratitude from them. We are doing this for their future, for future generations. The flow of love towards the future cannot be stopped. The care that your children can no longer receive must be directed to others, otherwise love will turn into a frozen stone and kill you.

And somewhere, without love, another child will die.

Only the transfer of one's love for the departed child to others can help to survive the death of a child and turn black melancholy into bright sadness, when the memory of him does not paralyze, does not lead into a stupor, but gives energy and strength.

People experience grief differently

Someone copes faster, and someone cannot get out of this state long years. The system-vector psychology of Yuri Burlan explains why this happens. Each person has his own characteristics. The hardest thing to cope with the loss of a child is a person with and vectors.

For a person with an anal vector, family is sacred. This is what he lives for. And what happened to his child, he perceives as a huge injustice. The peculiarity of the manifestations of the anal vector is that for him the past is more important than the present. Therefore, it is very important for such a person to preserve memory. He can endlessly look at photographs or sort through the things of a deceased child, visit his grave in the cemetery every day. It is most difficult for a person with an anal vector to say goodbye to the past, to forgive everyone and, after losing a child, start living on. However, memory, the past, memories can become bright when we do not say "with anguish: they are not, but with gratitude: they were."

The visual vector gives its owner an extraordinary range of feelings and experiences. For a person with a visual vector, an emotional connection is very important. The severing of the emotional connection that occurs with the death of a child brings suffering, which in full sense the words seem unbearable. There may even be suicidal thoughts. Because it is in love and emotional connection that the meaning of the life of the spectator lies. It is very important that there are other people next to such a person.

The visual vector contains a huge power of love, the biggest one on earth. But if a person closes it on himself, begins to feel sorry for himself, then his condition only worsens, up to bouts of hysteria and panic attacks. But if all the power of love of the visual vector is switched to others, then the pain in the heart recedes, life becomes easier. No, the soul does not become stale, the memory of the departed child is not erased. But there is a meaning, and with it the strength to live. And gradually the joy returns.

The experience of grief in other vectors also gives its own characteristics. Many have been helped to cope with the loss of a child by training on systems-vector psychology Yuri Burlan. Here are some of :

“It became easier after the loss of my only son (the consequences of a terrorist attack), resentment against parents, depression, self-esteem increased, a desire to work, confidence, understanding of others appeared”

“It was very difficult for me to survive grief - the loss of a loved one. Fear of death, phobias, panic attacks did not let me live. I contacted the experts - to no avail. At the very first lesson at the training on the visual vector, I immediately felt relief and understanding of what was happening to me. Love and gratitude - this is what I felt instead of the horror that was before. The training gave me a new attitude. This is a completely different quality of life, a new quality of relationships, new sensations and feelings - POSITIVE!”

Do not refuse help, come to the free online lectures on system-vector psychology by Yuri Burlan. And you will understand that it is possible to cope with the misfortune, you can find the strength in yourself to continue to live and return the joy of life. Register now.

The article was written based on the materials of the training " System-Vector Psychology»

I received an email from a grieving mother. Through the years, she managed to survive the death of her son, and now she is ready to support others in this grief.

My name is Valentina Romanovna. 53 years old, from Moscow.

Probably, I was able to survive the death of my son, but as soon as I talk about it, I begin to understand that this is impossible.

When death comes tragically, blinding shock, sobs and the need to organize a funeral “on strong pills” pierce you.

You are already experiencing the death of your son, being in a soulless, half-dead stupor.

I will say frankly that I had an only son, and my relatives supported me with all their might.

All gray-haired and aged in a moment, the spouse did not move a single step.

Girlfriends curled with ammonia, helping me survive the loss in silence.

It is impossible to find words, and only a few people are capable of it.

After the funeral of the son - 9 days. Wake.

I deny, I do not believe that this happened. Now the door will open, and the son will enter the room, and this terrible torment will end.

At this stage (9 days) it is simply impossible to realize that the son is already resting in the grave.

Everything reminds of him, and you are worried that you will not survive this grief.

As a mother, I was finished with despondency, went into the depths of my soul, gradually beginning to understand that these were not nightmare visions.

After nine days, my husband and I were left alone. They called us, continued to condole. Acquaintances often came, but I drove everyone away - this is our personal grief.

On the 10-30th day, I wanted only one thing - to reunite with my beloved son as soon as possible.

I was sure that after his death, I would not last long. And this, oddly enough, gave me a mean and ruthless hope.

They say that it is necessary to throw out (take away from the eyes) all things that remind of the son.

My husband did just that, leaving photographs as a keepsake.

Consolation did not come, I lost the meaning of life, somewhere in my mind understanding that I was obliged to share this cross with my husband, who could hardly control himself.

Yes, I forgot to say when our son died, we were 33.

We sat in an embrace and comforted each other. They lived on the money of their parents. And it was even harder for them - the only grandson left forever.

On day 40, I felt that I “let go” quite a bit.

Probably, they really say that the soul flies to heaven, leaving loved ones and relatives.

I continued to worry, but it was already a slightly different stage of grief.

You can’t bring your son back, and I finally believed in it.

Only after that, my body (guardian angel / psyche) - I don’t know for sure, began to pull me “from the next world”.

I lost weight, got older and wrinkled. She began to “peck” a little - without appetite and pleasure.

My husband and I went to the cemetery, and then again I felt bad.

The experience of the death of my only son was given to me in “leaps”, and the healer was a merciless time.

It is able to cut the burrs from the soul, in some incomprehensible way to cross the sufferer with people who also experienced the loss of a child.

For about half a year I did not want anything, avoiding any desire.

When the feelings became a little dull, she began to go out into the street, answering questions with an unambiguous answer.

So a year has passed. I took an easy job, holding my son's death deep inside.

Two, three, four, twenty years...

The death of a son is unbearable. You don't live, you just go on living.

Images are erased from memory, spiritual wounds are healed, but grief still returns - unannounced and piercing.

Forgive me for talking.

But I still do not know how to survive the death of my beloved son.

Valentina Romanovna Kiel.

The material was prepared by me - Edwin Vostryakovsky.

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Number of reviews: 95

After what happened, my husband and I were left alone, really orphans.

Everyone left us: relatives, acquaintances, employees, it is generally inappropriate to talk about friends.

Everyone said that they were in shock, did not know what to tell us, and went to their calm, prosperous, happy life go about your business.

Our only son, who was 27 years old, died in an accident, or rather, his car was destroyed by MAZ, an hour was cut out of the Ministry of Emergency Situations, then an hour was taken to the hospital, 8 hours of resuscitation, and Our decent, correct, honest, responsible child left ..

For a month there were not even tears, misunderstanding, not perception ...

We, always so independent, suddenly felt the need for people, but they were not around ...

I began to look around for others like me, those who had already experienced it ...

You can only talk to those who understand what a grief it is!

You wake up in the morning and it seems that you dreamed it, and then you realize that reality has not gone away.

You ask questions: WHY, FOR WHAT, HOW TO LIVE NOW?

There will be no children, no grandchildren - this is unnatural for human life!

More and more often the pain is overwhelmed, and more often you wash yourself with tears ...

Everything was for his son, and the psychiatrist said that you have to live your life. And in the church - love only God ...

They take the very best: the son died on the Trinity ...

I survived the loss of my only son.

And they gave me the same advice. I try to live my life, only this is not life, but a parody of it.

I don’t go to church anymore, because, in my opinion, “material gain” rules there.

It will be 3 years soon.

Nobody will give you advice.

You stayed with your husband, so there is someone to take care of.

I was left all alone.

As long as you live, the memory of your son lives.

The hour will come, and you will go to your son, I don’t know what it will be - a meeting in Heaven or nothing at all, but the fact that you will lie down with your son is for sure.

And the pain will not go away, it will only become less acute.

He was only 19 years old. And although everyone tells me that you are strong and you have to live on, I don’t have the strength to live.

I want to go to my beloved son, and no words will help here.

I also stopped going to church, and I only think about meeting my son.

Life is now behind glass.

I look around and don't understand what I'm doing here.

Why should I be here?

Neither work, nor friends, nor relatives help.

It was as if a door had slammed shut, behind which laughter, joy, happiness and pleasure from the small joys of life.

Life is over. Only fragments remained.

My son died.

He was 24 years old.

All these years I lived with him, for him.

I can't live without him.

Yes, it turns out I'm not the only one, I'm 28 years old.

I'm slowly losing my mind too!

Marina comments:

I'm slowly losing my mind too!

I beg you, hold on.

Even if I speak empty words.

For all sins, forgive me.

Hello!

He was only 25 years old.

God! How painful and difficult!

No one will console - neither friends nor relatives.

I really understand everyone who wrote here.

It is impossible to survive, no time heals.

There is no more sense.

It makes no sense to clean things and a portrait, the child is constantly in the soul and in the heart.

Marina comments:

Hello.

I read your letter and choke in tears.

In August, my only son, Maxim, was killed, and all life lost its meaning!

I want to know only one thing - will we meet there? And nothing more!

It hurt so much that words can't describe...

Good evening.

I am one of those mothers who have lost their children.

I still can’t find the strength to start living on, even though I still have a daughter who has just turned 7 years old.

But since I brought them up almost all my life alone, for me my son was everything in this life.

And with the loss of it, I lost the meaning.

I can’t understand why God takes away children who had so many dreams and desires to live!?

Soon it will be 6 months, and I cry every day and do not find the answer: WHY!?

All of us strength and patience.

Why is something constantly knocking in the brain?

After all, it shouldn't be like that! It's the children who should bury their parents! How unfair!

There was no one and nothing left - just me and my pain!

I shudder at every sound, run to the door, open it to my son, but then the realization of reality comes, and I want to scream, tears roll in a hail, and then again the pain is so sharp and burning, and then - emptiness.

God, how is it? For what?

And so day after day, and there is no end to this pain!

Arina comments:

Why is God taking children?

Be strong, support those who are drowning in this grief.

I beg you, live, and forgive me for touching your trouble with my awkward lines.

Julia comments:

Marina comments:
I want to know only one thing - will we meet there? And nothing more!

You know, I was also killed that I would never hear his voice and jokes again, I would not rejoice in victories.

The Lord takes the best, and I always knew that death is not the end ...

My son began to come to me in dreams.

First, in the form of his human image, only consisting of smoke or fog, then he came, accompanied by someone who looked like a monk with a scythe, kissed me, as if saying goodbye, and left for a bright spot - in a dark kingdom.

I then cried a lot and asked God not to erase his soul, to save it, and that no matter what form he was in, and no matter what world he ended up in, I would always love him and look forward to meeting him.

And today he again came to me in a dream - in the form of a warm, kind, green ball.

At first I didn’t understand that it was HE, but by the end of the dream I felt it with my soul, my heart (I can’t explain it in words), and I recognized HIM, and my soul brightened up, and there was joy that HE IS ALIVE.

I love him in this form too.

Yes, I don't care how it looks, our LOVE IS ETERNAL!

I want to support everyone.

Try to communicate with them through meditation and inner concentration.

I did it, and it became easier for me.

The main thing is that they are ALIVE, they are just different.

The Son himself told me so when he came to sleep. I told him: “Son, you died!?”, And he told me: “No, mom, I'm ALIVE, I'm just “DIFFERENT”.

I regard death as a long journey on which my son has gone, and on which I too, when my time comes, will go, and we will definitely meet him there.

And I'm tired!

It's been a year since I buried my son.

An epileptic attack - a stroke - a fracture of the base of the skull, 7 hours of surgery and 3 days of coma.

I already knew that he would not survive. She herself said: “It is Your Will, Lord!”

From infancy there was a fear that he would die, and I buried him in my sleep dozens of times.

Everyone said: "He will live long." And he lived for 38 years.

He carried me in his arms, he always felt sorry for me.

One dream: to hug him, and hear the usual words: “Don't worry, mommy!”.

What can happen to me now? I choke on tears.

I know that he is fine there, and I will definitely see him.

Thank God for everything!

Everyone turned away from us.

Thanks to my son's friends, they supported us as best they could.

How I survived, I didn’t go crazy, I don’t know.

This pain, longing, tears, they will never end.

Everything collapsed.

Only one desire is to see your son, just hug.

Marina comments:

I believe that I am alive, but in another dimension.

But what kind of "hellish hell" is it to stay here without him ...

I've been burning for 5 years now.

In October 2011, my son, aged 22, passed away.

And I want to tell you that this pain will never subside, and on the contrary, with time it only intensifies.

With thoughts of him, I fall asleep, wake up, and all day I think of only one thing.

There are moments when I can be distracted for an hour or two, and then it hits like a current.

I went to a psychologist, it did not help!

Since then, I haven’t communicated with my friends, as there were rumors that I had gone crazy, and I urgently needed to go to a mental hospital (they decided so because I was constantly crying).

The husband began to drink, and now there is nothing left of the happy family (in the past).

I realized what a cruel and unfair world, because my son was killed by drunken scoundrels.

Together with heartache I was filled with anger and hatred. I don't show them, but they are there.

And also a sense of guilt for not saving her son.

He felt that he would soon be gone, and every day he told me about it.

I was scared to hear this, and I scolded him.

Now I understand that with these conversations he asked for help.

I didn't help!

The heart is bursting with pain.

Finally, I would like to say: “People, love and take care of each other, especially the parents of children. There is no worse grief than the loss of a child, after which life is divided into before and after.

After, it is no longer life, but suffering.

Vita comments:

Valentina Romanovna, 53 years old, I was just looking for that person who experienced grief, as I am experiencing now - Vita Nikolaevna, 49 years old.

Good afternoon.

I read your lines and see my similar grief there.

Just like yours, my only son, 21 years old, died at work.

My husband and I have been living together for 8 months now.

I want to find a person and communicate, mutually helping to survive, giving will and patience.

If you don't mind, we could chat.

Goodbye.

Your love and pride for your child, his love for you, family is a great happiness.

It will be painful and difficult, but try not to upset your children.

Write, help others, do not close your soul.

It fell to us, it was impossible to change anything - such a period.

I am one of you.

My son died 5 years ago. He was 23 years old.

They should be proud of us.

Get up and say thank you to them that we have them.

Children see you, live and surprise them.

We are strong!

He worked as a truck driver, drove home for a day and died.

I was not at home.

Maybe he could have been saved: they said he had a brain hemorrhage and cardiac arrest.

I can't live without it.

Why did it happen so?

He was so strong, all organs were healthy.

Well, how could he die?!

On September 26, 2016, the heart of my son Artyom stopped beating, but the worst thing is that we found out about it 11 days later - and all this time he was lying in the morgue, no one needed ... he was 28.

None of the hospital workers - while he was alive and the morgue staff, when his son was already dead, did not even think of finding his relatives - he had a passport with him.

He was beaten, severely, on the head ... on his way to work on a watch.

And he was lying on a cold iron shelf in the morgue ...

I don’t know why to live, for what - he is my only child, everything was for him, his future family, grandchildren ...

Some scum-drug addicts have deprived me of everything.

Despair, anger at people, pain - these are the feelings that remain.

What should I do?

As I understand you.

I don't live, I exist.

Because I don't believe he's gone.

The door will open and my son will come in.

I STILL ALONE.

Everyone thinks: when will I come to him?

It's very hard to live...

She hugged him, lying in a pool of blood - already lifeless, and even this was a consolation - to caress him, support him.

He himself did not expect this. Didn't mean to die. We were very close to him. Proud of him.

I always believed that there is no death with the Lord. And now I don’t feel anything at all and I don’t understand ...

And of course, no one cares about our lives, people cannot even imagine such a horror that we are experiencing, and instinctively move away.

This is our personal maternal grief, our hardest cross.

Perhaps we will become cleaner, kinder.

After all, nothing will console except the hope of meeting THERE ...

And they say the truth, that when you cry often, then you fill it with your tears there?

I sob every day. I sleep badly at night.

Everyone thinks, how is he alone there?

After all, my son was only 19 years old. So young and handsome.

And even now I will never have grandchildren like him.

And I'm so lonely. No one to talk to about this.

Only photographs remain.

And so you want to hug and kiss your own child.

Where can you find solace?

Moms, dear, reading your bitter, insanely bitter stories, I can’t stop crying.

Your every sigh, every phrase resonates in the heart.

Only by losing her only son, her only hope, can one understand all the horror, all the nightmare that is going on in the soul of an orphaned mother.

On May 28, 2015, a capable, intelligent, beloved, educated, wonderful son who took place in life died. My pride, my life, my breath. Now he is gone.

As early as April 4, he came to visit us - a handsome, strong, remarkably built, energetic person.

And on April 12, on the Easter holiday, his back hurt, on the 13th he was hospitalized in the Botkin hospital with very poor blood counts: low hemoglobin and platelets.

They took a puncture of the spinal cord, did an MRI and made a diagnosis: stage 4 stomach cancer with metastases in the spinal cord, bones, lymph nodes ...

And after a month and a half, my child was gone, every hour my boy became weaker and weaker, the damned disease simply sucked all the strength out of him, and he died in my arms.

Questions for what, why, how and why to live now, drill the brain from morning to evening and from night to morning. Lost the meaning of life.

Such melancholy, such blackness around, and nothing to cling to.

They buried my son on Trinity.

In seven monasteries and in very many Temples the Sorokousts read about his health. Prayed, asked, hoped...

A year and seven and a half months have passed since my boy was gone.

The tears don't dry up, the pain doesn't subside. My husband and I are alone. Everyone has left us. As if they are afraid of contracting grief. We are outcasts.

I go to the Temple on Saturdays, and there I only cry.

My child so wanted to live. He helped people a lot. Why is it so!?

No answer…

They take the best, brightest. BUT WHY???

There is NO strength to live in this terrible looking glass.

Dear mothers, I read and feel your pain with every cell, my soul, like a bare nerve.

There is nothing more painful than the loss of a beloved child.

They say that time heals. FALSE, time goes by, but inside everything bleeds and hurts, and most importantly, nothing can be changed, and this makes it even more painful.

Yesterday was a year and a half since the death of my son Kirill, and everything seems to have just happened, and when I come to the grave, I don’t understand that my son is “there”, and I’m waiting, waiting for him.

Kirill, healthy and strong, drove away by car on his day off from home, and never returned to me again.

He passed away two weeks after his thirty-fifth birthday.

I was looking for him for 9 days, put up leaflets, advertised on local television, called all authorities in the region.

And Kirill was lying in the morgue of the neighboring region all this time, and no one told us, but he was found in his car and with all the documents.

They buried him only on the thirteenth day, and all this because of the negligence of the police.

And how terrible it was to see his beloved son at the identification in the morgue: he lay so cold and helpless, sewn up with these terrible threads.

Will this be forgotten, will time heal this?

Dear mothers, I wish you only the strength to endure the grief that has fallen on our shoulders.

Kingdom of Heaven for our children.

Valentina Romanovna, I agree with you, because I myself still do not know how to survive the death of my beloved son.

When a small child is buried, this is one thing, but when a 20-30 year old leaves us ...

This can really blow your mind.

It's like he didn't live at all...

Nothing left...only a monument and memory...

I keep thinking, why don't they write in the Bible how a mother should live?

How did Mary live after the crucifixion of her son Jesus? She had found strength in herself.

And I'm in total despair.

How I know this WORRY, dear mothers.

And there are no words of consolation!

Living without a beloved child is unbearably painful.

And sometimes I feel like I've lost my mind.

My son was 29 years old.

2 years and 10 months have passed, and the wound is getting deeper.

For two years she did not go, but ran to the cemetery and to the place of death in the hope of seeing him.

And only recently I began to understand what really happened - and I don’t want to live.

The world without him has become different ... the sun does not shine like that ... and itself as in another dimension.

Only tears, tears...

THE MEANING OF LIFE IS LOST.

Before my eyes, only his mutilated body and emptiness ...

And my DIMULYA was smart, affectionate, loved skiing since childhood. In general, an accomplished person.

Just to live and be happy, but ...

Try to fold your baby and adult - fold it in your closed hands, it might be a little easier.

Helped me.

Talk to them, ask for advice, please them with your mood.

They are near and see us!

It's just life, my dear moms and dads.

My son died at 23...

How and who admits that travel, healthy, athletic, with higher education a guy who loved life and people suddenly died at work?

Why is mother such a cross?

For raising a good person?

He was only 25 years old, in 11 days a wedding was planned.

The bride cries every day.

How to live now and why?

I read the comments of women mothers, and my very soul is torn to pieces.

Why didn't God give him a chance, took him as if he had plucked a flower?

Nothing foreshadowed a terrible grief.

How to live?

The son died, 34 years old, cardiomyopathy.

Didn't complain about anything, where did it come from, why?

Write, maybe someone had such a grief?

My son passed away 2.5 years ago.

There was a stroke, he recovered well, then her husband died, deterioration began, and then a brain hemorrhage, and that’s all ...

I lost my favorite men in 10 months.

I still can’t come to my senses: it’s not true - time does not heal.

It is especially difficult on holidays and on family dates.

We were a very happy family: a loving attentive son, smart and handsome.

There were no risk factors for stroke, except perhaps the pace of life, but who has it calm now.

I cry every day, I communicate less with my friends, I think that they cannot understand me.

We raised children together, and their problems seem so trifling to me.

I don't understand what it means to let go?

Is it forgotten and not remembered?

I have a wonderful daughter and a wonderful granddaughter, I am constantly afraid for them!

But even their love and care do not help to calm down!

The place in the heart that the son occupied and occupies, no one and nothing can take!

Constantly thinking FOR WHAT and WHY!

In the morning, tantrums with sobs, then pills.

I try not to tell my daughter everything, she is very worried about me.

All sorts of thoughts come to mind, it is very painful to live, and only thinking about her stops me.

But it hurts a lot!

I constantly think that I didn’t do everything, I didn’t tell him everything about how much I love him, although he always knew this.

The feeling of guilt that he is not there, but I live, constantly squeezes my heart ...

Eight months ago, after a serious illness - a brain tumor - my son died. He was 36 years old.

At first, apart from unaccountable horror, I did not experience anything and did not understand.

Then thoughts began to break through his consciousness: that nothing could be returned back, that nothing could be changed, that he would never live again.

And it got even worse from this hopelessness.

I live - eat, work, perform some actions, like a robot, but nothing comes to consciousness.

As a person, I simply do not exist - it's not me.

I can’t think of anything – except: did I do everything to cure him?

Helplessness in front of this disease simply completely deprives me of strength.

We trusted each other very much, and until the last moment I tried to believe myself and give him hope that we could handle it.

But... life...

I know he was scared because he was trying to find out: is there something beyond the bounds of being?

How is he now?

What can be done to make him feel good there, if you can not return him?

Thank you Tatiana.

I felt a little better from your words.

My son, aged 22, recently died.

Not even 40 days yet.

I think I'm going crazy.

I feel him very much - on the day of his death I suddenly felt strong joy, such a boyish one, and relief, as if he had thrown a huge load off his shoulders, for a short time, for a minute or two I felt, for 3 days he was still the same as before, rejoiced when I in meditation I thought about him, and our souls met.

9 days - already different - he rethought a lot of things, then after 3 weeks his soul came to me in a dream, already without a personality - just a luminous outline of a person, even without a gender already.

I know that on the 40th day the soul is already leaving for good in other worlds, I probably will no longer feel it like that.

Yesterday I watched the film “Our Hearth”, I felt better for a while.

I am engaged in spiritual practices, I feel very people, and I feel my son very much.

I know that there is no death, there is only the death of the body, that the soul is eternal, but the mind still refuses to understand this.

Dear girls, how did you endure it, without knowledge, without techniques, without the ability to restore and put yourself in order?

Be strong, do not close, do not become embittered, find the strength in yourself for love and compassion for people, help and love your loved ones and not only - this will be your salvation.

In me, as if something was opened, compassion is very strong, indifference.

What previously did not touch at all, now causes a bunch of different experiences.

Nothing just happens, in everything there is a great plan of God, everything is his will.

There are many things we cannot understand at our stage of development.

You just need to accept it as it is.

Find in yourself faith, love, gratitude and humility before His will.

To believe that everything happens out of love for us and our children.

Today I was in church - the Virgin Mary also went through this - the death of her son.

No one is immune from this, it is, on the contrary, the lot of the strong.

On the 9th, after dinner, he became ill, called an ambulance.

They asked about his data, and when I said that the policy was left at home in Baymak, they answered that he should apply at the place of residence.

In the evening, the condition worsened, the pressure and shortness of breath rose.

I called the ambulance again, the paramedic arrived, I told him that he had a heart attack on his legs, had pneumonia, he measured his pressure, gave an injection for pressure, ordered him to go to an appointment tomorrow, for some reason to the surgeon and, referring to the lack of a policy, left him at home.

After that, the son fell asleep.

But early in the morning he became very ill, severe shortness of breath.

I called the ambulance again, the brigade arrived in 25 minutes.

But it was too late, he died in my arms.

He was only 44 years old.

Medic himself.

All his life he worked as a massage therapist, raised the seriously ill to their feet, was a kind and sympathetic person.

He built a two-story house, did everything in it with his own hands.

Today I was in a hospital in Baymak.

And there I found out that on March 6 he did a fluorography, where he was diagnosed with bilateral pneumonia.

The attending physician (surname hidden by the administration) prescribed only outpatient treatment.

He went to see her in March, and in April, and in May.

I lost 21 kg: weighed 83, became 62.

On May 26, the doctor was called to the house, he became ill, but again she prescribed only medicines, and left.

Today I met with her, and she began to prove that he was cured.

And this is said by a doctor with almost 40 years of experience, who headed the VTEK for many years.

Why then did he die of pneumonia?

It will soon be three months since my son died, but I can’t forget him for a minute, everything is before my eyes.

Why are people who should take care of people's health so callous, inattentive and soulless?

This question does not leave, how I am guilty before you, my boy, son.

I'm sorry that I wasn't around, I'm sorry I didn't hear you right away, I'm sorry I was sometimes busy, I'm sorry a hundred thousand times.

I am 41 years old, and I have an only son, he was 19 years old, smart, very handsome, but had health problems.

They were observed at the institute, and so everything was stable: he grew up, lived, studied, entered the medical school.

But there is another disease. Diabetes.

They could not muffle it in any way, constant jumps, but this is not a reason to die!

In July 17, I went to the Krasnodar Territory to my grandmother, all my relatives were drawn up: my brothers, wives, children.

We planned to arrive a little later - by the end of August - by the beginning of September, but my son did not wait and went alone.

It was unbearably hot, but during the day he did not go outside, but sat at home under the air conditioner.

On July 18, my brother and nephew went for a drive on the courts, in the evening we went to a cafe, we came home happy, joyful, but on the morning of July 19 my son's legs hurt, he used to lie on the couch.

In the evening, my own only child called me and asked how things were going.

I was at work.

He said that he measured the sugar, everything is normal, but his legs hurt, it’s hard to get up, and so that I come faster ...

I can't write, I'm in tears...

To which I replied that I would call him after work.

But in the evening my brother called me and said: urgently leave.

I started to get hysterical, my husband and I immediately left Ulyanovsk, I did not believe, and now I do not believe.

On August 19, 2017, my son left our lives, a paramedic arrived, and he couldn’t even give an injection, measure sugar.

From helplessness on his part, the son began to panic and suffocate.

There was no news to the hospital - there was no stretcher, the doctor started calling the intensive care unit, and my son left, after 30 minutes she arrived, but it was too late, time was lost, my son left, in consciousness and memory, sudden cardiac death, they wrote .

But how could I, mother didn’t feel trouble, didn’t say how much I love him, didn’t turn out to be there, I can’t forgive myself for this, everything would have been different, my whole life revolved around him, and now everything was cut off, and lost its meaning.

We were left alone with my mother, we can’t talk about our beloved son, beloved grandson, how painful, unbearably the heart is tearing to pieces.

For us, he is alive, and just left ...

Elena comments:

Good day, I don’t have the strength to keep this unbearable pain in myself anymore, I can’t understand, the brain refuses to believe that this happened, the worst grief crossed the threshold of our cheerful and friendly family: why, and why so early ?!

Hello, Elena!

My name is Sveta, I'm 42 reptiles.

He was everything to me, after the birth of our first dead daughter.

A month before age 19, my son had his first seizure.

My husband and I did not believe: how can a normal healthy young man suddenly fall ill?

Then there were two more attacks, we went to the doctor in the morning, he prescribed pills, I went to work, and my husband went to the pharmacy.

The son fell at home and died.

Life has become empty, so we think about the child.

Maybe not everything is lost and the meaning of life will appear?

I have three sons, smart, decent guys, my husband and I envied - what kind of sons we raised.

My middle son Anatoly died in an accident, he is a driver, he fell asleep at the wheel.

The son was 40 years old.

There are grandchildren left, a good, beautiful and smart wife ...

Hello.

Never survive this.

17 years. How so?

Was returning home from school. "Electro arc" was walking, and just fell.

Friends called and said that he didn't seem to be breathing.

I'm still going crazy.

The ambulance drove for an hour.

I think he died with my dad in our arms.

Tried to keep it.

I breathed for him, dad did a heart massage, but alas.

She also has 2 brothers and a sister.

I pray for him.

I cry day and night, they say that it is impossible ...

How many of us are such mothers, waiting for death and meeting with their sons?

And time does not heal, on the contrary, it becomes more painful ...

Cried while reading.

I feel sorry for mothers who have lost their children.

My beloved son died at work at the age of 23, it will soon be seven years since he is not with me, but I still do not believe and cannot come to terms with this.

Relatives turned away, and acquaintances shied away from me as if from a leper.

I live with this unbearable pain, nothing pleases me, but what to do, I thought that I would not last long, but for seven years it will be December 28th.

I sympathize and condole with all mothers, peace in your soul!

Elena comments:

But how could I, my mother didn’t feel trouble, didn’t say how much I love him, didn’t turn up next to me, I can’t forgive myself for this, everything would be different, my whole life revolved around him, and now everything was cut short ...

So I, mother, did not even feel that my son was dead, even my heart did not predict anything! How so?

Why do they say that a mother's heart feels trouble, but why was mine silent?

And now he’s torn to pieces and how I regret that I probably didn’t tell him enough that I love him, he’s my son!

I'm sorry son, I'm sorry...

At the age of 7 months, along with the vaccination, hepatitis B was introduced.

How much we endured with him is beyond words.

They were in 6 hospitals.

At the age of 5, our enzymes returned to normal, and we were removed from the register.

All this time we followed diets with him. Everything was fine.

At the age of 18 he got married and had a child.

But at some point I missed it.

There were problems with work, he began to drink and, naturally, the liver could not stand it.

For the past three days he has been walking around on his own.

He said that his stomach hurts and he suffers from diarrhea.

He never complained of pain, and here he did not tell me that he had vomiting and loose stools with blood.

He was taken away in an ambulance with low blood pressure.

I didn't see him again.

From a large loss of blood, he went into shock.

He was given a sleeping injection, and the son did not wake up.

I have three children, he is the oldest.

Kind, sympathetic, always helped us and was always there.

I still don't believe that he doesn't exist.

My health has deteriorated greatly.

I go to the doctors, but I think it's from longing for my son.

On the morning of March 9, they drank tea with sweets given to them for the holiday, and in the evening Zhenya was taken away by an ambulance in a serious condition, and after another 2 weeks he was gone, his kidneys, lungs, and heart failed.

Even in intensive care, while he could still speak, he was always rushing home, he did not even admit that he was dying.

I have no one else, no one at all, alone in a strange city - we moved 8 years ago, but there were always only two of us, the rest were strangers.

There are 4 cats and a dog left, only they keep, and so there is only one desire - to hurry to Zhenya, I even prepared a place for myself next to him.

I no longer believe in God, I don’t want to believe in a God who takes away an only child from a mother.

But I still pray for my son as best I can, maybe he will feel better from my prayer.

Once in a dream, or maybe not in a dream, Zhenyushka asked me to let him go, I try, but it doesn’t work out well, i.e. doesn't work at all.

And also a huge, terrible feeling of guilt: I did not save him, only I.

He was so wonderful, smart, handsome, he did so much for me, but I did not save him.

My hell has already come, I guess I deserved it.

If only my boy was well there, or at least it didn’t hurt anymore.

I love you so much.

Once, in 2001, I buried both my parents within a month, it was a nightmare, but now it’s completely different, there are no words to describe all the horror that happens to me: feelings of guilt, unbearable longing, fear, hopelessness, emptiness, grief and despair.

Only work saves, there are moments that I feel like before, but it quickly passes, tears every day, but no one sees them.

My son used to tell me that I am strong, but I'm not like that, it's just that life puts me in such circumstances that there is nowhere to go, I have to climb further, which is what I'm trying to do now.

I just want him to feel good now, I don’t expect anything else.

I am 43 years old, I am no longer afraid to die, but I also have a son of 9 years old, so we will live on.

To all of you, moms, good health, consolation, strength and patience.

And our children are now forever with us, and always young.

My mother-in-law's eldest son died two days ago, I am the wife of the youngest.

I want to help her, but I don't know how.

Tell me how to survive such grief?

Greetings, Irina.

I sincerely sympathize with you.

You are on the page with the required material.

Please read the post and the comments left.

It's been 1.5 years since my son passed away.

And the pain is still the same - time does not heal.

Maybe it heals, but they just don't live that long.

I don't have holidays anymore!

New Year's Eve fuss - people are all running somewhere, buying something, carrying Christmas trees, gifts, but everything is in a fog for me.

I look at them as if they were savages and walk around like a detached person.

I see a son in every young guy, I want to call him, and then reality comes - a terrible, vile, unfair reality! I often cry.

Friends have all moved away - no one is interested in communicating with me now - always sad, never laughing.

People, imagine, I have forgotten how to laugh!

Nothing pleases me in this life - I am alone, all the time alone with my grief.

The day is over and it's okay. Always like this…

Fourth New Year without a son.

Holidays don't exist for me now.

Dima would have been 33 years old, but he was crushed by a freight train.

Handsome, smart, beloved son.

Over the years, there was everything: disbelief, denial of what happened and thoughts of suicide: just to see him faster.

I constantly went to the Church, to the cemetery and to the place of death in the hope of seeing him (maybe a silhouette will flash somewhere) - and it was easier for me because I had really been looking for him for three years, and by this I forced myself to live.

In passers-by, everywhere, and suddenly I realized that I was slowly losing my mind.

And that's when it all broke down.

Now I am hung in a state that is incomprehensible to me: I am between heaven and earth.

I am completely empty, I do not want anything, it seems that life goes on, but I am NOT in it!

It has been 3 months since my beloved son is gone.

He passed away on September 30, 2017.

On June 2, he turned 27 years old.

Heart failure.

It happened in another city, and we were told about the whole horror of 31.09 by phone.

God! For what and why?

He went to enter St. Petersburg in - his favorite city. We ourselves are from Estonia - Tallinn.

He kept telling me: “Mommy, what can happen to me here? I am in beautiful city peace. Everything will be fine!".

And this is true - the pain does not go away, and time, and the Church, and prayers do not help subside this grief.

I am not alone - there is also a daughter, and she has just turned 10 years old.

I understand that you need to live for the sake of your daughter, and find the strength to make her life happy.

But so far it doesn’t work out very well - she often sees me crying.

I communicate with my son's friends, and this gives me a little strength - that they remember him as smart, kind, cheerful.

He wrote poetry and essays, and was a very talented and caring son and brother.

To all who have lost their children - only live!

And for the sake of the memory of our children, we must live confidently, and find the strength not to become isolated in our grief.

Good evening, lovely girls.

I hate this day, this number.

In the tear-off calendar, right at the beginning of the year, I tear off a sheet with this number.

It doesn't get any easier.

It's like a load on the heart tied and said: drag! And you drag. And you are silent.

No one is interested in your pain, your tears, your torment.

It can only be understood by those who have experienced it.

I don’t go to Church, auto-training doesn’t help anymore.

She became an angry, grumpy aunt.

And you know, I stopped being afraid of something.

I say what I think, I cut the truth, I go ahead, so I stopped communicating with relatives who, instead of supporting me after the funeral, came to me to borrow money for their urgent business.

It was then that I realized that I would not twist my soul in front of anyone, show my tears and experiences.

Now I don't care about anything: no crises, no bad weather, no gossip at work, nothing.

After all, she used to live and be afraid: they’ll cut her off from work, the boss will shout, people will think something wrong.

And you need to be afraid of such an end. Once and for all!

Open the gate - the death of a loved one, a loved one came, and became the mistress of your house.

She is everywhere: in your head, in your bed.

He sits at the table with you every day.

And every day you show her a fig - with anger, with hatred.

And you live and walk not with your head down and tearful eyes, but directly looking into the eyes of people who are just waiting for you to become limp, become miserable, unhappy.

No girls!

We must live and remember our boys!

After all, they have only us, and we have only them.

Hold on.

Went with friends to the billiard room.

They broke up at 20.00, and at 00.15 they found him on the railway platform.

He took his own life.

I don't believe my son can do this.

In September, he himself entered the institute. Have worked.

We live in Moscow.

How did it happen, and what did he do there?

I go to Church, it helps me a lot.

I pray morning and evening.

All of us strength and patience.

God does not give trials that a person cannot survive.

Dear friends, out of great grief, I wrote earlier about my terrible loss of my only son.

And I often return to this section.

The feelings and thoughts of most of you girls are very close, but I cannot agree with Olga that God does not give a person more trials than he can withstand.

About that there are a lot of examples when unfortunate mothers left after their children.

I will say to myself: I have become a different person, there is not a trace left of a kind hearted woman.

There is no pity or compassion in the soul, only ashes.

The world is dressed in black and gray.

Like Oksana, I became angry and unpleasant.

They burned me, my soul, destroyed me with the pitiless death of my only son.

Saint Ignatius Brianchaninov wrote that death is an execution.

Only they executed not only my son, but also me.

Sorry if I wrote something wrong.

It's very hard...

I also buried my son.

Some scum killed him at work during the watch.

There was no investigation, they paid off.

Now the value is only money.

They brought him in a zinc coffin.

I didn't even cry for a month. But now I cry several times a day.

I'm waiting for my son to come home, I can't believe that he is no more.

From the age of 7 she lost her parents, was brought up in an orphanage.

I don't go to church.

Where is God, why is he so unfair?

Billions are stolen, people are killed, and these scum go berserk from fat and mock the people, but God does not punish them.

Tomorrow is nine months since I buried my beloved son.

Death snatched it from my hands.

I live, so to speak.

I do not believe that he is not there, that I will never see him, I will never hear his affectionate “mommy”.

And I'm waiting, I'm waiting...

I think about him every second. I remember.

He is like the sun, always with a smile.

And now everything has faded, darkness, an emptiness that cannot be filled.

I scream, I howl every day. I can't cope.

How to live, why? Why is that?

Near the family of the eldest son.

They don't leave me, but that doesn't save me.

She buried her son - 17 years old in 2004, after 8 months her mother died, after another 8 - her mother-in-law.

My husband and I are still living in grief, it will never get easier.

Hello!

Unexpectedly, it seems ridiculous.

I live, I don't know how.

Hold on, be strong, only time will help and put everything in its place.

Save, Lord, parents and help them who have lost the most precious thing - their children.

Three years have passed, it’s a little easier, but why does it hurt so much sometimes…

Hello!

In December 2017, she took her son to the next competition in another city.

Three days after the game, we phoned, talked quickly, I was in a hurry and said to him: “Let's discuss everything in the evening?” ...

After 30 minutes he was gone.

14 years old, handsome, smart.

Two months passed like crazy.

It doesn't get any easier.

Endless pain, despair.

I have a younger daughter, I'm trying to somehow get together for her sake, but it's not good for me.

Through the prism of grief, everything seems different - friends, relationships, life itself.

Lovely, kind people.

I was looking for help and came across your site.

He was 33 years old, he was returning from his watch.

I talked to him 2 hours before departure.

Left a wife, two children and my pain.

She breaks the heart, the soul.

I walk like a zombie, well, I don’t understand anything.

9 she passed, but they haven’t buried yet, we are waiting, there is no news from Moscow.

The priest said that one must humbly accept the death of children, as the Mother of God accepted the death of her son Jesus Christ.

I understand with my mind, but not with my heart - after all, my soul, along with my son, left me.

I look at the photo, and ask for one thing - to take me to him.

Valechka, dear, I so want to say words of support to you, at least a little to reduce your pain.

But this is impossible.

I lost my only son 2 years and 9 months ago, and no one word eased my pain one iota.

There was a son in the shower, and now the pain.

Sweet, dear sister, hold on.

It is not known why such a fierce punishment is given.

And you have to live with it.

My infinitely dear, but invisible to the eye brothers and sisters.

I just read all the comments left by heartbroken people.

He hid his eyes so that no one would see the tears of a man who has no right to advise you anything.

My soul mourns next to you, carrying sadness and loss through my heart.

Please accept my sincere condolences and try to find strength for the sake of those who remained nearby. They need you.

Forgive me.

With a deep bow, Dmitry Nikolaevich. And to be extremely open - Dimka from the city of Moscow.

Thank you Dmitry for your kind words of support.

Dima, thank you for this site.

For your sympathy and compassion.

It costs a lot.

Most people try to ignore the horror that has fallen on unfortunate mothers.

Even seemingly close people, and they move away, as if afraid of "getting infected."

And there is no support in the Temple: "God gave, God took." And how and what to live? ...

Low bow to you, Dima, for participation.

Thank you, Dima, and my dear friends in misfortune.

Many go, call, sympathize, and then everyone has their own life, worries and problems.

You remain alone, not counting the closest.

During the day at work, and when you come, you look at the photo and howl like a she-wolf.

No strength. It seems that you understand that you need to hold on, but I can’t.

My son died on February 28, 2017, right at work.

I already wrote here.

Angel Child, an athlete with a higher education, beautiful in both soul and body.

God took him, just pulled him out of life.

A year has passed, has it gotten better? No.

Pain, resentment, a sense of injustice and indifference to previously vital values.

Everything faded away at once.

02/23/2018 I lost the dearest person - my only son.

He was only 33 years old.

I can't believe he's gone, the pain of loss, the emptiness.

It seems that he is somewhere nearby, but does not let me near him.

Hands are taken away, I can not do anything.

He went to our house that day, but never came.

After dinner, we still talked with him, and at 14-30 he was gone.

At that moment I felt so bad, my heart obviously felt that something was wrong with him.

They called him on the phone, but he did not answer.

And in the morning we found out that he was no more.

He was kind, sympathetic, went in for sports, but a ridiculous death cut short his life.

They probably say the truth that God takes the best to himself, but why so early?

At first, you don’t understand how you can go to work, watch TV, sleep, walk, etc., because he’s not there, he won’t come to you, he won’t call.

There are only memories left: you see him as a child, a teenager, then the army, and then it's all over, in an instant.

It's unbearable!

It sits in your subcortex, with this you continue on your way.

You know, before I always dreamed about different things, but now, how cut off.

The day is over, okay.

People are fussing about something: cars, loans, apartments, new phones.

And you know that you don’t need any of this, you look at the photo and ask: well, say at least a word, at least once to hear: mom, it’s me.

Empty, girls at heart, empty.

Dear moms, please accept my most sincere condolences.

Losing a child is beyond human strength!

Let our children feel good on the clouds, and we will definitely meet with them and hug tightly.

On January 31, 2018, my son Roman passed away.

Today is the sixth month since he has been gone.

I really want to see him.

I cry every day.

I want to die to meet him.

I don't want to live.

The son is in my head all the time.

Every day the date is approaching - six months.

It’s scary, it hurts me to realize that my child has been gone for so long and that he will never come and call.

I saw information on the Internet that, supposedly, I feel sorry for myself when I cry, I suffer for my son.

My good women, I read all your letters - I read them and wept softly.

You saved me: for 2 weeks now I have had one thought - I don’t want to live.

My son, thank God, is alive, but is in jail.

He is not a rapist or a murderer, he got there through his own stupidity, for which he will be responsible.

For my husband and me, this news turned out to be the end of the world, but, thank God, that friends and relatives were nearby - no one turned away.

You need to ask God for help and pray, he will definitely hear and help.

Thank you very much.

My son, he is 24 years old ... He died, and I don’t know what to do next without him! My life was cut short. I don't want to live...

Dear Kitty Mom.

I am extremely sorry for you, myself and all the orphaned mothers who wrote to this site.

My only son Sashenka has been gone for three years and two months.

Three years of tears, despair, protest.

Here Natasha writes that one should ask God for help, pray, and God will help. Didn't help me.

Good, poor Kota's mother, I know how hard and hopeless you are.

I would like to do something to help alleviate this universal pain. But all I can do is cry...

Tell me God, why did you do it?
After all, I prayed and asked you: Keep him as yourself, yourself.
You avenged me for loving my son more than I love you?!
What have you achieved with your cruelty?
Just proved that you don't like people...
The soul screams, all the strings are torn in it: For what? What for?
Because he was more important to me.
I ask you a question.
I am Mother! And I have a right to know!
M o l h and w s?!
So there is no answer...
Or don't you want to answer it?!

Hello moms!

I, like you, lost my youngest son. He was 27 years old, and he died in a plane crash that occurred on March 6, 2018 in Syria, in the city of Khmeimim. He is a senior lieutenant of the guard.

Passed more than one hot spot, but unfortunately, due to pilot error, 39 families were orphaned.

I want to support YOU all in this great grief, I, like all of you, constantly cry.

There were a lot of plans and prospects, but alas, there is such a terrible word FATE.

I try to survive only with my mind, inner emptiness and indifference, I think that we all experience this.

But there is one BUT that gives me a chance to survive. My son would be against me suffering like this. He came to me on the third day after the death, and showed how they died, this question tormented me very much.

He very rarely comes, but shows that everything is in order with him. And I have no right to let him down.

We must let our boys go to heaven, otherwise we simply interfere with our tears and thoughts to find peace.

We act like egoists who find it hard and bad, forgetting that it only brings pain to our boys, and protecting us, they cannot go to heaven to the end.

We have a very strong connection with the boys.

I always felt this very strongly, and my son was always surprised that I called him precisely at difficult moments.

I decided for myself that I love my son VERY much, and therefore I have no right to disappoint him.

I once asked him at the grave whether he sees and hears me, and at some point I saw a thin cobweb on my finger that went into the sky.

I was very happy, thanked my cub, and promised that I would try very hard not to disturb him.

So I'm slowly surviving. And I ask you all to release your sons little by little.

We cannot correct the situation, but we can create peace for them.

We love them and for the sake of our sons, we must do it.

If fate decided so, then we still have to finish something in this world.

And our boys are always with us, and protect us unreasonable. Hold on girls, only we can help ourselves.

Love, thank you. Your post helped me think...

Poor, unfortunate mothers.

No matter how old a child is, he will remain a child for his parents, especially for mothers.

Such grief destroys, but does not cleanse the soul of a person.

Empty in the soul, and life seems empty. I am also one of you.

You can’t live, you can’t die either, there’s nowhere to put a comma ...

Awakening begins with the words: I am now. For the last eight months, it has become incredibly painful to wake up, the cold consciousness that I am still here does not come right away ... I always loved waking up so much before, I jumped out of bed in the morning with a smile so happy that my boys never understood ... Probably, they thought that only people who do not understand one simple thing can enjoy a new day - now is not just a moment, it is a reminder that yesterday's happy day moved away for a day, the last happy year for a year and sooner or later She will come ..., they say, where to rush ... I smiled and kissed them on the cheeks ...))
Now, in order to get up in the morning, it takes time, I need to remember who I was before, how I looked, how I should behave ... Having dressed and putting the final “gloss” on a stiff and quite tolerable appearance, I remember what role I have to play. What I see in the mirror is not a reflection at all, but rather a silent request: ONLY MAKE IT UNTIL THE EVENING.
Maybe it's too much, but on the other hand - my heart is broken just like all the mothers here, it's like I'm going to the bottom, drowning, there's nothing to breathe ... There was at least some meaning in my life when you felt that there really was someone nearby, an all-understanding soul, whom you love endlessly. My only son was 20 years old. On December 22, 2017, he passed away. Egor tragically died ......
They say the older you are, the more experience you have. Complete bullshit! Now I understand that over the years I have become much more stupid. After all, experience is not what happens to a person, but what a person does with what happens.
… For the first time in my life, I do not know what awaits me, every day is like a fog. Nothing will change...

06/08/2018 at 15.40 a car hit my daughter. She was 16 years old. I had spoken to her on the phone 10 minutes earlier. She came to see me at work to see a doctor. I work in a clinic. She came, she was so sad. It also started to rain and wet us while I saw her off.

I stood and looked after her, as if I felt that I would not see her again. And I didn't see it.

And then the nightmare began. Couldn't call. I wondered why I didn't get home. She was hit by a car near her house. At the bus stop.

While I was driving, while the ambulance was taking her, she died on the way. I arrived at the morgue. I didn't believe until the very end.
And then I saw that she was covered in blood - all from head to toe. My girl. And there I died with her. This is how I live. I feel like I'm breathing, and I don't seem to be breathing. Don't know. I feel like I'm behind glass. Like an alien.

This feeling of “life behind glass” is my fourth year. People live there, rejoice, fuss with their worries, ridiculous problems ... All acquaintances, friends, and even the Church remained there ... And here I am alone, and longing, and tears, and resentment, and hopelessness ... I have no strength ...

On August 5, 2018, my beloved, my only son, tragically passed away. He was only 21 years old. The feeling of guilt that I live, but he is not, does not leave for a minute.

I go to the cemetery every day. A day is just hysterical, another day there are not even tears, just emptiness. You go crazy from hopelessness.

At the end of June, my 22-year-old son was killed, in the evening he went by car to his friends' dacha, did not get there - he was brutally shot at point-blank range by unknown people, and the car was put up for sale.

My husband and brother found the body of our boy themselves (according to the track from the beacon from the car, which was on my phone). The investigation is ongoing, no results yet.

My husband and I were left alone, the son is late, the only one.

The son was very bright, kind, smart, brilliantly graduated from college, served in the army (military driver), worked for 11 months in an auto parts store as a cashier-consultant - he managed almost everything in his short life, met a girl, there were so many plans.

We are 52 and 61. Everything. Dot. The meaning of life is gone. Looking forward to meeting my son. I go to the Temple, I try to pray, I go to confession, I take communion, but everything is somehow mechanical, not like before (when I was expecting my son from the army).

My son passed away at the age of 38 on July 10, 2018. Heart failure, 2 resuscitation teams did not save. No signs of trouble. From the ambulance station, they answered me that in Russia there are about 200 thousand such cases every year. A year ago I was in Jerusalem, asking God for health for him ...
Now I live in another dimension - I remember it every minute.

2 years ago, on October 30, our only and best left. I will never accept it. The pain killed everything alive inside, and no one can explain this. Only those who have experienced it will understand. All relatives and friends have disappeared. The world is cruel and unprincipled.
I don’t believe in God after the tragedy: my husband and I have grown old, and generally changed. Sincerely forgot how to rejoice and laugh - there is no happiness without sons. Many times I have thought about suicide, but I understand that this is not an option. I work, I go to dances, it distracts me, but this is a temporary self-deception.
There is no full-fledged life without my beloved and dear son, and there is no life. Everything around is artificial. Things that used to please have lost their value. There is no value in anything, I only regret my mother.
When I was 13 years old, in 2000 my sister died tragically, she was 17 years old, and now we have the same story.
Very hard. Psychics and fortune-tellers only cash in on the mountain. They have no humanity, they are only interested in money. I don't even know who to turn to. We live somehow.
After the first year, I wanted to divorce my husband, but he has no one but me, then I realized that I couldn’t do that. It's like a betrayal of my son.
We fought and blamed each other. Then they realized that it was all pointless.
The psychotherapist could not help us.
Sometimes I write poems, I dedicate them to my son. In those moments I feel better, as if talking to him. After his departure, she wrote 6 long and serious poems. It seems to me that he seemed to dictate to me what to write. She began to write the book “On the Edge, Silent World”. It is still under development. I write about experiences and silent grief.

I've read all the comments, I've been crying. It turns out I'm not the only one! My son died 2 months ago. 2 weeks did not live up to 22 years. The wedding was planned for the summer. I didn't even have grandchildren. Such an emptiness inside. Emptiness and PAIN! I don't know how to live on. There is no more strength to cry and suffer. The eldest daughter and grandchildren keep afloat, but they are far away. We communicate by phone. Indeed, I don’t want to do anything, there is only one thought in my head: why, for what? Who needs it? The church does not help, it gets worse. It seems that if I had gone to the Church earlier, I would have saved, prayed. Guilt eats away. I'm afraid I can't stand it! How not to commit the irreparable? My husband also cries all day. He was the only one he had. So many hopes for him! Also relatives and friends almost all refused. Who needs someone else's grief. No one calls except for the daughter.

Valechka, dear, I used to go to Church, I prayed to the Lord, a special Mother of God for my son ... Nothing helped, no one protected me from a severe illness. And now it only makes me feel worse...

I don't want anything else in this terrible life. She buried her Son in 2018 on January 31. I constantly think about him. There was not a day, not a single minute that I did not think about him. I want to see him and miss him very much. Where is my son? Lord, where is my child? It's unbearable.

On June 17 my son died. He was my only child and close person. I punish myself for not being able to help and protect him. He doesn't even come to me in my dreams. How to make him feel calm and good there? Should I live on? I'm completely alone. Can I correspond with any of the survivors of this tragedy? It's very hard for me.

Irina, hello. I am your namesake, and the grief of losing my only son four years ago fell upon me ...

On July 19, my son, my beloved son, died, this pain cannot be endured, maybe I should start smoking, I used to smoke, or can I drink? He was 43 years old, got hit by a boat propeller in the water. I just can not survive, my heart is constantly aching, I don’t want to believe in this whole nightmare. People, help!!!

It is very scary to experience the death of your own son. After all, it is children who should bury their parents, and not vice versa. A person who has experienced such grief is usually left alone with his experiences. Yes, relatives and friends try to help, but they try to avoid any talk about death. All moral support lies in the words hold on and be strong. We will tell you how to get over the death of your son. This knowledge will be useful for a person who has experienced a terrible tragedy.

The Eucharist organized by this group every two months is between 50 and 200 people. After mass, they can talk to a priest or psychologist, or organize a one-on-one meeting. They also have a rich library where you can find books on loss. Most importantly, however, parents can simply meet people who have similar experiences, drink tea, eat cake, talk.

The loss of a child is very common among families today, although it is difficult to get exact figures because there are no reliable studies of this phenomenon due to the sensitivity of the case. Children die due to miscarriage, accident, illness, suicide, murder. Each loss experiences a different loss, although they are accompanied by similar feelings. They have the impression that they have collapsed in full existing world, they experience untold suffering, they feel that their heart is torn to pieces, they experience impotence and meaninglessness of life.

How to survive the death of a son - accept all emotions and feelings

You can experience anything: fear, bitterness, denial, guilt, anger - this is natural for a person who has lost a son. None of these feelings can be superfluous or wrong. If you want to cry, cry. Give in to your feelings. If you keep all emotions in yourself, it will be even harder to survive grief. Allowing your feelings will help you accept what happened. You will not be able to forget everything at once, but you can find the strength in yourself and come to terms with death. Denying your feelings will keep you from moving on.

Thus, they enter a period of mourning. Parents who have lost a child do not always have the opportunity to live their mourning to the end in order to find peace in their hearts. Since the wound will never grow back permanently, this seems obvious. In mourning, the whole point is that the wounds heal and no longer hurt. Very often, the closest neighborhood does not allow parents to mourn and offer them "cheap" comfort. Orphan parents often hear: "Grab a hold of yourself", "Don't start a tantrum", "You need to live somehow", "Don't cry anymore".

These words are usually sent to parents or relatives. Usually this is not a manifestation of bad will. Such reactions arise rather due to the inability to experience someone else's mourning and difficulties in finding a new situation. At the same time, parents will lose their "benevolent incentives" after the loss. They stop crying or at least don't do it in front of others. Maybe somewhere upset, on a pillow when no one sees. This is especially true for mothers who cry differently than men.

How to survive the death of a son - sign up for a psychotherapist

There are psychotherapists who specialize in such cases. Every city should have a smart specialist. Be sure to talk to him before signing up. Find out worked whether he is with such people and of course, what is the cost of the sessions. In any case, you need a specialist with extensive experience.

Men often do not give themselves the experience of what happened. They think they need to hang on because they are the support of the whole family. They cannot show emotions, tears, weakness. In their opinion, such behavior is "uncontrollable". This becomes a problem, especially when spouses begin to distance themselves from the loss. This happens when a woman, watching an "insensitive" husband, thinks that he does not care what she is going through. She does not see compassion and understanding in her husband. And so he stays with his feelings and slowly closes himself inside.

How to get over the death of a son - forget about the timing

No one is forcing you to stop grieving after a while. Each person is individual. In difficult times, emotions may be similar, but everyone experiences grief in different ways. It all depends on the circumstances and character of the person.

But in each of them, a person must allow emotions to pass. He has the right to experience distrust, anger and anger, pain, sadness and many other unpleasant feelings. He must first allow such feelings, and also obtain similar consent from others. It is very important to support the external environment, whose most important task is to be and accompany the parents after the loss.

In particular, this means creating an atmosphere so that the “wounded” person can scream and vent their anger so they can talk about the loss or about their beloved child. In such a meeting, there can be no room for judgment, "good" advice, condemnation, or complaint. Practice shows that you just have to be. Orphan parents have that chance, at least during joint retreats, as well as regular community gatherings after a loss. Everyone can be there, how he wants to be, and how he feels that he is exactly what he wants.

For a long time there has been a concept of accepting grief, consisting of 5 stages. It is believed that everything begins with denial and ends with acceptance. modern science thinks otherwise - the acceptance of grief cannot consist of 5 steps, because people experience an incredible number of feelings at the same time. They come and go, come back and eventually become less noticeable. Recent studies have confirmed that people accept death immediately and do not experience depression and anger - only grief for a person remains.

Bitter but effective remedy. This process - as stated above - leads to healing of the wounds caused by the loss and bringing you closer to your traumatized life. This is done mainly by forgiveness. For my sake, forgiveness is the remedy that causes wounds to heal and one slowly returns to normal functioning in the world. Forgiveness should be given to three people. No matter what happens, we often turn to the first complaint and ask, “Why?” At the moment of loss, the question arises of the love of God and His Providence; They ask where he was when the tragedy struck.

How to survive the death of a son - the first stage

You cannot believe that this has happened, you experience shock and numbness. Each person has his own reaction - some freeze with grief, others try to forget themselves, reassuring relatives, organizing funerals and commemorations. The person does not understand what is happening to him. Antidepressants, sedatives, and massage can help. Don't be alone. Cry - it will help release grief and relieve the soul. The stage lasts 9 days.

Many people who have a perverted image of God think that He is responsible for the death of His child. It's as if God arbitrarily allowed survival and not others, as if he directly sent diseases or ordered drunk drivers to get behind the wheel. God, though innocent, is accused as the doer of all suffering. Therefore, in the process of mourning, we must forgive him and thus come to terms with him. Forgive everything that he did not do, but that he blamed his suffering parents.

Forgiveness is also necessary for the other person. It could be the one who killed the child. The same person may also be a child. Subconsciously, parents may regret that they left and left with a feeling of emptiness. After all, it could be any other person to whom the spouse feels the anger or hatred associated with the loss. By allowing themselves to experience anger, they embark on a journey to reach a place of forgiveness that heals broken relationships.

How to get over the death of a son - the second stage

The stage of denial goes up to 40 days. A person already accepts the loss with his mind, but the soul cannot come to terms with what happened. At this stage, parents can hear footsteps and even the voice of the deceased. The son may be dreaming, in which case talk to him and ask him to let you go. Talk about your son with your family, remember him. Constant tears are normal during this period, but don't let yourself cry around the clock. If you cannot get out of this stage, contact a psychologist.

The last person to need forgiveness is the "orphaned" parent who must forgive himself. Many parents regret that they do not take care of themselves or the child, that they do not love them very much, they do not give enough support, and now - after he is gone - it is too late. Many parents throw out that they did not prevent death, did not protect their child, that they left them at some important time in his life. It is turned on by a being that has little to do with reality and generates a huge sense of guilt in a person.

Without forgiveness, without humble acceptance of yourself and your life, it is difficult to heal the wounds of loss, it is difficult to ease the pain and return to more stable functioning in the world. The loss of a child is nothing like the first. Just like after the resurrection of Jesus. Wounds remain, but life is new, different. It is not easy for parents to go from loss to new life, from Good Friday to Easter. It takes a lot of patience, kindness, empathy and crossing skills. Because when death enters the arena of our lives as a marginal event for which we are powerless, then the scheme does not work.

How to survive the death of a son - the third stage

For the next 6 months, you must accept the pain and loss. Suffering can subside and intensify. Parents often blame themselves for not protecting their children. Aggression can spread to everyone around: friends of the son, the state or doctors. These are normal feelings, the main thing is that you do not overdo it with them.

Grief goes its own way, but everyone experiences it differently. For some parents, pain and trauma sometimes increase the loss they experience. And yet they are all invited to allow loss - to become an integral part of their lives - to lead them to something new, more mature and full of peace, agree with the surrounding reality, others and themselves. It is important to overcome a certain barrier of ineptitude, both from orphans and from those who would like to help them.

The former do not always know how to ask for help, how to express their needs. In turn, the latter, often due to lack of personal experience, do not know how to approach them, how to speak, how to support them. God, who endured suffering and death, suffers with us. He comes and gives us his help, usually acting as another person. The openness of this wonderful exchange makes wounds, although they do not disappear, heal and become evidence of great love.

How to get over the death of a son - the fourth stage

Experiences become easier a year after the loss. Be prepared for the manifestations of the crisis. By this time, you should learn to manage grief and you will no longer be so afraid of feelings as on the first day of the tragedy.

How to survive the death of a son - the fifth stage

The soul of the mourner calms down by the end of the second year. Of course, your grief will not be forgotten, you just learn to live with it. Knowing what to do after the death of your son, you can move on and think about the future.

People may be in so much pain that they contemplate suicide. The pain can be incredibly intense. Drive such thoughts away - better seek help.

Leisen Murtazina (Ufa): Mothers who have lost children ... I do not know how to help people who have experienced, are experiencing a similar tragedy. Perhaps the stories told here will give them some guidance.

November 27 - Mother's Day. This is a good and bright holiday when the day of the most important and incredibly beloved person is celebrated. But exorbitantly blasphemous things happen in life, unnatural and contrary to nature itself - when parents lose their child. The whole horror of what happened lies in the fact that a woman remains a mother, but the child is no longer around. These women survived. Survived after their death.

RADMILA

After the departure of my son, my Dani, I began to go to the hospital. Many of Danka's friends remained there, women whom we met there and with whom we communicated for several years. In addition, when Danya and I were still in Moscow, and I saw how various holidays and training were organized for children there, clowns, some celebrities came. Our children were left to themselves, they entertained each other as best they could.

At first, I did not understand that I was saving myself. I remember that Danka was 40 days old, I bought 3 or 4 tricycles, large cars that you can sit on and ride. I brought this as a gift from Dani. Then I just remembered how it was in Moscow, and I wanted our children to have it too. She held a holiday, brought household chemicals, water, came with volunteers. It always seemed to me that if Danka sees me, then he is proud of me. I still have that feeling. I perceive my No Loss Foundation, which was born from this activity, as my child. Sometime in 2011 I gave birth to him, and now he is already 5 years old. And every year he becomes more mature, stronger, smarter, more professional.

I really like it when people remember something, some interesting moments from his life. My Danka had a friend Roma. He is now an adult, 21 years old. It's been 8 years, but every year he comes to the wake. And I am so pleased when he remembers some things that were connected with their friendship. And to this day I recognize some tricks that they did, but I didn’t know about them! And I am pleased that this little boy then, still remembers my son, appreciates this friendship. When I look at his photos on social networks, I think, wow, how big already. And I could have a child of the same age. Of course, I am glad that Roma's life has developed, and he is such a handsome, smart guy.

It is probably better to talk frankly with the child about what is happening to him. In these cases, irreversible tragedies do not happen to mothers. Mothers do not make decisions to leave after the child either. The child leaves some kind of order. We give him the opportunity to accept this situation, we have the opportunity to say goodbye - and this is priceless! In the pursuit of salvation, parents forget about the dying child himself.

These palliative children are already so tormented by treatment, they just want to be left alone. At that moment, maybe the best thing would be to fulfill his childhood dream. Take him to Disneyland, meet someone, maybe he just wants to stay at home with his family.

I made a lot of mistakes. I now remember, and I think, maybe he will forgive me. Because, of course, I wanted the best. I didn't have that knowledge then. I remember that he even tried to talk about it, but I did not hear. Now I would definitely talk to him, explain that this happens in life ... I would find the right words.

I dream of organizing a memorial day for such mothers. So that they have the opportunity to meet, talk about it, remember. And not only cry, but also laugh. Because every mother has some kind of happy memory associated with her child. I try to remember just that. Of course, a child dying in your arms is an imprint for life. But when it's especially hard, I try to remember something good. About how he took care of me, how he laughed, how we went somewhere, how he loved his bike, how he loved to collect his legos. His birthdays are how we celebrated the new year.

We all united for him with all relatives. I was packing these gifts for half the night, we came up with traces of how Santa Claus came out of the window and left gifts. And these are very valuable and pleasant memories. I remember how he was born, how they gave him in my arms. In the morning they brought him to me, I thought: “God, how beautiful he is!”, It seemed to me that he had a halo, he was shining! Others are somehow not very ... but mine! I was proud that at the age of one he spoke three words: kitty, mother and fly. When he went, there was not yet a year, I thought - this is only mine! Nobody else! This is a unique case!

When a child just dies, you can’t call and ask “how are you doing”. I think this question is stupid and inappropriate. How can it be for parents who have just lost their child. And we need to talk about what happened. If you try to close this topic, then the parents will experience it inside themselves. It is important to remember, to give parents the opportunity to tell about it. If the child has just left, of course, mom goes to the cemetery every day. Maybe try to perform this ritual with her, help her get there if there is no car. Be an assistant. No need to stop going there! Mom intuitively begins to do some things that help her. You just need to listen and not go against the grain.

For me, the first three years were the most difficult time. Everything around reminds of the presence. I know that many mothers decorate their apartments with photographs. Keep some things you love. For example, I have already gone for the ninth year, but its Lego constructor is still assembled. I like to say: he collected it! Imagine, at your age! There is such a complex structure, a car on a motor. And I was so proud that he collected it.

Of course, you can’t leave your mother alone for a long time with this grief. Let her talk, cry. Many say: don't, don't cry... let her cry! It is necessary, it is very important to mourn your loss. This pain will always be with me. It's not going anywhere. And not a single mother who has lost her child will not go away. It seems to me that the parents of these children become palliatives for life. These parents need help throughout their lives.

OLGA

My husband and I live - this year will be 35 years. We have two daughters - Maria, 32 years old, and Svetlana, 30 years old. Masha is married and lives in Novy Urengoy. Her daughter is 6 years old, son is 2 years old. He also works, like me, at an art school. Svetlana has been dancing all her life and works as a choreographer. While still studying at a pedagogical college, every year she worked in a pioneer camp as a choreographer and counselor. There she saw the children from the orphanage, who spent the whole summer in the camp.

For several years she persuaded me to take a girl - Verochka, she really liked her - she also loves to dance. But for a long time I could not make up my mind, and only in the fall of 2007 did they write an application at the orphanage. The application was accepted, they said to wait for a call - they would invite to pass the School of foster parents. There was no call for a long time, I already decided that we were not suitable. They called in April.

I was told that Verochka would not be given to us, since she has a brother, children cannot be separated. And they will give us another girl - Alina. She was given to the family last year, but they want to return. She was born in a large family - the fourth or fifth child. According to the orphanage's documents, everyone visited places of detention. Mother was deprived of parental rights when she was 3 years old. Since then, she has been in an orphanage, since the age of seven she has been in an orphanage. The house where she lived with her parents burned down. She only remembers her grandmother, who came to her until she was taken into the family.

I don't know why, but I got scared. Then I could not explain this fear to myself, now I think it was a premonition of our future events, a sign that if you are afraid, don’t take it! I remember the minute when we saw her for the first time. Alina had to be brought and immediately given to our family so that the children would not injure her with questions. We came for her with her daughter Svetlana. We were led to Alina. She sat at the table, indifferent, with slumped shoulders, all pressed into a chair, as if she wanted no one to notice her. Her eyes were fixed on nowhere.

When asked if she would go live with our family, she glanced at us briefly and nodded as if she didn't care. So on May 31, 2008, she became ours. At that time she was 10 years old. According to the documents, she is Alina. But at home we call her Polina. We decided to change her name after she read somewhere that Alina means "alien". We chose for a long time. We stopped at Polina not by chance: P - Olina (that is, mine); according to the digital designation, POLINA fully corresponds to ALINA; according to church canons corresponds to Apollinaria. Polina also means little. And she so wanted to be small, loved, because she was deprived of this. For 2 years we lived, not to say happily, but calmly enough.

Polina, in addition to school, also attended an artist and a musician. She had many friends. She turned out to be a cheerful, cheerful child. And in the family, everyone accepted her as their own, dear. Our hospital epic began at the end of August 2010. Polina found some kind of lump in herself.

Since November 17, 2010, the oncohematology department has become our second home. We lived there: we were treated, studied, went, when it was possible, to shops, cafes, cinemas. Met new people. They made friends, they fought, they made up. In general, they lived almost as before, with the exception of one thing: they learned to live with everyday pain. In children, pain is physical, in parents it is moral, mental. We also learned to deal with loss. Probably, in our case, this word should be written with capital letter, because these are not just Losses, these are Kamilochka, Igor, Sashenka, Ilyusa, Egorka, Vladik ...

And in my heart lived the hope that it would pass us by. We will recover, forget about this time, like a bad dream. Polinka has become truly dear to me here. I wanted to take her in my arms, press her to my chest, close myself from this illness. I did not give birth to her, but endured, suffered. How we rejoiced when we were discharged home in July. And how short-lived our joy turned out to be... In November, we again found ourselves in our 6th department. All year long we came home only to pack things for the next trip. We hoped! We lived in this hope! But in December and here we were given a terrible verdict.

Until the last day, Polinka enjoyed life, rejoiced that spring would come soon. She managed to congratulate everyone on the first day of spring and live in her last spring for three days ...

How did I live these two and a half years? For the first six months, I just forgot how to talk. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, go anywhere, see anyone. Didn't answer phone calls. I quit the art school, where I worked for 25 years, I was the head teacher. Every day I looked at photos, went to her page in VKontakte - leafed through her notes and comprehended them in a new way. In the store, I first of all went to those goods that I bought when we were in the hospital, to what Polka could buy. On the street I saw girls like her. At home, I put all her things, every piece of paper in her closet. I didn't even think about throwing away or giving away anything. It seems to me that then tears from my eyes just poured constantly.

In April, my eldest daughter left her granddaughter in my care. Now I understand how difficult it was for them to decide on this, but by doing this they probably saved me, pulled me out of depression. With my granddaughter, I again learned to laugh and rejoice.
In September, she got a job at the Children's and Youth Center as the head of the art studio.
New job, new people, new demands. A bunch of paper work. I had to study, not only work, but also live in a new reality for me. Time for memories was only at night. I learned to live without thinking about the past. This does not mean that I forgot - it was in my heart every minute, I just tried not to think about It.

I am grateful to the people who were with me that they did not bother me with questions. Sometimes it was scary to communicate with people, I was afraid that they would touch on a sore subject. I knew that I could not say anything, nothing at all - I just caught my breath, my throat constricted. But mostly there were people who understood and accepted my pain. It's hard for me to talk about this right now.

On the other hand, I remember with gratitude how persistently she called me if I did not answer - to my children, one of the mothers, who became just a friend to me. She wrote to me on the Internet, demanding answers. I just had to talk to her. She scolded me for not answering to others, because they are worried about us, offended by my inattention, by the fact that I simply ignore them. Now I understand how right she was. After the tests passed together, they did not deserve such treatment. It was sheer selfishness on my part to think only about my grief, to make them feel guilty that their children were alive, and not rejoice in it with them.

I am grateful to those who remember Polina. I am happy when her girlfriends write something about her on the Internet, post her photos, remember her in the days of memory. Now I understand how wrong I was, even selfish, when I was offended by those who told me that I shouldn’t bother her anymore, that I should let her live last days calmly, at home, surrounded by loved ones, no need to inject her anymore, take medicine. I thought that it was necessary to fight to the end, especially since Polina wanted it that way. It's just that no one told her that she could no longer be helped. But I knew it! And continued to beat in a stone wall.

I remember another girl whose mother accepted the inevitable and calmly gave and did everything for her daughter that she wanted. And I did not give Pauline rest. I begin to forgive those whom I offended during treatment. We left the hospital with a grudge. Rather, I left with a grudge. Polina, it seems to me, did not know how to be offended at all. Or life has taught her not to show it. I forgive because they are just people, just doing their job. And the palliative is not included in their competence. It turns out that they were not taught this. Now I know that there is no palliative care as such in Russia, with the exception of Moscow and St. Petersburg, and everything is very difficult there.

Once I was asked - would I like to forget about this period of my life? I don't want to forget. How can you forget about your child, about other children, about how they lived, what they experienced together. Illness has taught us a lot. This is part of my life and I don't want to lose it.

OKSANA

My daughter Arisha was born as an angel on the feast of the holy Easter, and left on Christmas Day... There is no rational explanation why this happened to us. Our loss is terrible, and truly unfair. 10 months have passed, and I still look at the grave of my daughter - and I don’t believe it. Visiting your own child in a cemetery is something unrealistic. As if I left my own body and look at someone else, unfamiliar, who is standing there and laying flowers and toys on the ground. ... Is it really me? Is this really my life?

The common phrase that a mother is ready to give her life for her child becomes completely - at the level of emotions - understandable only when you yourself become a mother. Being a parent means carrying your heart not inside, but outside. No matter how you imagine how a person who has lost a child feels, multiply it by a trillion times and it will still not be enough.

My experience is this: sincere human concern and kindness surprised me as many times as their absence. In fact, it is not so important what to say to a person. We really can't say "I understand you" here. Because we don't understand. We understand that it is bad and scary, but we do not know the depth of this hell in which a person is now. But a mother who has buried a child feels empathy, compassion for another mother who has buried a child, backed up by experience. Here every word can be at least somehow perceived and heard. And most importantly - here is a living person who also experienced this.

Therefore, at first I was surrounded by such mothers. It is very important for orphaned parents to talk about their grief, to speak openly, without looking back. I have found that this is the only thing that somehow relieves the pain. And also a lot, calmly and for a long time to listen. Not comforting, not encouraging, not asking to rejoice. The parent will cry, will blame himself, will retell the same little things a million times over. Just be around. It is very important to find at least one or two reasons to continue living. If you lay such a solid foundation in your head, it will serve as a buffer in those moments when the desire to “give up” arises. And yet, pain is a simulator. Trainer of all other senses. Pain mercilessly, sparing no tears, trains the desire to live, develops the muscle of love.

Therefore, for the sake of all parents who experience grief, I will write 10 points. Perhaps they will change to better life at least one orphaned parent.

1. 10 months have passed, and I wake up every morning with the same feeling of grief that I experienced on the day of Arisha's death. The only difference is that now I have learned to hide the pain of my torn to shreds heart much better. The shock slowly subsided, but I still can't believe it happened. It always seemed to me that such things happen to other people - but not to me. You asked me how I was, and then you stopped. Where do you get the information that in such and such a week, in such and such a month after the loss of a child, the mother no longer needs such questions and participation?

2. Please don't tell me that all you want is for me to be happy again. Believe me, no one in the world wants this as much as I do. But at the moment I can't achieve it. The most difficult thing in this whole story is that I have to find some other happiness. The one I once experienced - the feeling that you care for a beloved being - will never come to me in its entirety again. And in this situation, understanding and patience on the part of loved ones can become truly saving.

3. Yes, I will never be the same again. I am now what I am. But believe me, no one misses me more than me! And I mourn two losses: the death of my daughter and the death of me as I once was. If you only knew what horror I had to go through, you would understand that to remain the same is beyond human strength. Losing a child changes you as a person. My views of the world have changed, what was once important is no longer so - and vice versa.

4. If you decide to call me on the first birthday of my daughter and the first anniversary of her death, why don't you do it on the second, on the third? Do you really think that every new anniversary becomes less important for me?

5. Stop constantly telling me how lucky I am to have my own guardian angel and another child. Did I tell you about this? Then why are you telling me this? I buried my own daughter, and you seriously think I'm lucky?

6. Is it bad to cry in front of children? You are wrong. It is just very useful for them to see how their mother mourns the death of their sister or brother. When someone dies, it's okay to cry. It’s not normal if children grow up and think: “It’s strange, but I’ve never seen a mother cry because of a sister or brother.” They may learn to hide their emotions, believing that if mom did it, then it’s right - and it’s wrong. We must grieve. As Megan Devine puts it, “Some things in life can’t be fixed. It can only be experienced."

7. Don't say that I have one child. I have two of them. If you don't consider Arisha my child just because she died, that's up to you. But just not with me. Two, not one!

8. There are days when I want to hide from the whole world and take a break from the constant pretense. On days like this, I don't want to pretend that everything is fine with me and that I feel my best. Don't think that I let grief break me or that I'm not right in the head.

9. Don’t use worn out phrases like: “Everything that happens is for the better”, “It will make you better and stronger”, “It was predetermined”, “Nothing happens just like that”, “You need to take responsibility for your life”, “Everything will be fine”, etc. These words hurt and hurt severely. To say so is to trample on the memory of loved ones. Say literally the following: “I know that you are in pain. I'm here, I'm with you, I'm there." Just be there, even when you feel uncomfortable or don't seem to be doing anything useful. Believe me, it is where you are not comfortable that the roots of our healing are located. It starts when there are people ready to go there with us.

10. Grieving for a child will stop only when you see him again. This is for life. If you're wondering how long your friend or family member will be blue, here's the answer: always. Don't push them, don't belittle the feelings they're having, don't make them feel guilty about them. Open your ears and listen, listen to what they tell you. Perhaps you will learn something. Don't be so cruel as to leave them alone.

GULNARA

When a big misfortune enters the house - the loss of a child, the house freezes in an oppressive terrifying silence. The universal scope of grief falls on you like a wave of a giant tsunami. Covers so that you lose life orientation. Once I read in a smart book how you can save yourself if you got into it. First: you need to stop fighting the elements - that is, accept the situation. Secondly, it is necessary, having taken as much air into the lungs as possible, to sink to the very bottom of the reservoir and crawl along the bottom to the side, as far as possible. Third: you must definitely emerge. The most important thing is that you will do all the actions completely alone! A good instruction for those who know it and will use it if they find themselves in such a situation.

It's only been a year since my son became a "celestial". It turned my whole life upside down. My personal experience living the loss allows me to compose my instructions for "rescuing the drowning." You can drown in grief very quickly, but this will not make it easier. Maybe my thoughts will be useful to someone. From the very beginning, I have been surrounded and surrounded by people who support and help me. No, they didn't sit with me around the clock and mourn my child, no, they didn't teach me how to live and didn't analyze what happened. The first days and late evenings, there were sensitive, delicate people near me. They came to my house, invited me to visit, these were extraordinary meetings - support.

I am very grateful to friends and acquaintances for this delicate care. Yes, they called me, but NOBODY asked HOW IT happened. Everyone was interested in my well-being and my plans for the day. I was offered joint walks through beautiful places in the city, offering me to make a choice myself. Later, I decided to give all the toys, and the child’s things to other children who need them, made a small rearrangement in the apartment. I removed all photos. When I'm mentally ready, I'll put them in a prominent place again. It made it easier for me to deal with grief. I have a goal, I really want to reach it. Moreover, the goal appeared immediately, as soon as the irreparable happened.

I had to live through “I can’t”, I have always loved Life, and I believed and believe that I can handle it. I went on a trip to the sea. And I'm very lucky with the company. All the people on vacation were new, unfamiliar to me. And that helped me a lot. After the trip, I went to work. And I am very grateful to the team for that silence and delicacy, for patience and for showing care. I will not hide, at times it was disastrously difficult. I also tried to be among people more, to make new acquaintances. When it got really hard, I called mothers who also lost children, and began to entertain them with all sorts of positive stories.

It was difficult, but I WANTED TO PLEASE. And it became easier for me. The girls in response told me that I called in time and thanked for the support. We laughed together into the handsets, remembered our children, and it was a bright memory that gave strength. It is necessary to communicate with those who are in the same whirlpool. It makes you stronger and these people feel you as you feel them.

I remember that at the very beginning I had a huge sense of guilt that I did not save my son, and in order not to destroy myself, I began to deal with this problem. The help of a psychologist is good support, especially if he is a high-class professional. And another important point, I don’t like it when they pity me and even worse when I start to feel sorry for myself. I am sure that you need to bring yourself back to life through communication with people with whom you feel good, through your favorite hobbies, try yourself as a lone traveler in some uncharted area that you have long dreamed of, of course, without fanaticism. More to be in the fresh air, perhaps to master a new business. Gather guests in the house. Walk around with guests. Read new books, watch interesting films, visit theaters and museums, travel.

Be sure to interact with your children when you are ready. They are very sensitive and give a lot of love and care. And remember, humans are not perfect. Try not to be offended and not offend those who say incorrect things to you. You are living a terrible grief, and people do not always know how to behave next to you in a difficult situation. There are no institutes and schools with a special curriculum in such cases. Release them in peace. And live on. And yet, there is a huge power inside you. Believe in it, then you can live this pain. And also you have a lot of love, warmth and kindness. Give it to people and more will come back to you. If any of you who live in a similar situation need support and help, then you can call me 8-927-08-11-598 (phone in Ufa).