As I grieve Waverly, I also anticipate the loss of Oliver. And unlike the anticipatory grief I experienced with Wavey, I now know what to expect. What was a possibility with her is now a certainty with him. It wasn't that she could escape the death's grasp, but rather I couldn't fully understand it. Nor could I imagine what it would be like. But now as I look at Oliver, I know death. I know he can not avoid it. It is slowly creeping closer as the syndrome ravages his brain and body.
At times I need to sit in the seriousness of what lies ahead. I cannot let it dominate, but I also cannot avoid that which will happen. Exploring my grief and sadness, mourning that which was and what will be, can be a healing balm. It steadies me and gives me the strength to persist.
I heard someone mention that in Gaelic when a person experiences the loss of a loved one, the response is 'I will stand with you". No I'm sorries or condolences, rather a promise to walk through the grieving process. One that doesn't last thirty day or one year, but continues throughout a lifetime. I also read an article on removing the phrase "it will be okay" from our vocabulary and replacing it with "I'm here". When your child has a fall or a friend loses a job, a meaningful "I'm here" provides so much more comfort...when backed up with action.