[KnowMan]

Richard --

Though I hardly know you, news of your son's death hit me very hard. It brought back all the heartache in my own life, some eight years ago, when I lost my younger son at age 19. His life was going well, he was happy and had a real future ahead of him. And then he was gone. I believe that losing a child is something only fully appreciated by someone who's unfortunate enough to have had the same experience. It's a brutal event, in part because it violates our sense of the natural order of things. You should be checking out before your children do.

I'll cautiously give you my advice. That would include doing your best to cherish the children who remain. Use your resources. Lean on family, friends, anyone else who offers condolences and assistance. It was appalling for me to learn how many others have had to deal with the same tragedy. And there's such a range of means by which survivors cope -- some successful and some not so. I'd urge you to take whatever professional or organizational help you think will get you through the coming however-long. Compassionate Friends is a remarkable organization of survivors helping other survivors cope. There are others, as well, including, of course, support from church or mosque or synagogue or the like.

The day after my son died, a man I knew (or thought I knew) said to me, "James, my friend, I'm sorry to say that you've just joined a club to which nobody wants to belong." What I didn't know about him until moments later was that he was already an unfortunate member.

It's been 2,879 days since Zachary died. Yes, I count. No, I was never very good with numbers or recall. Yes, it's a sad, unconscious obsession that I fear I'll never shake. I try so hard sometimes to celebrate his life and the good things and what he left behind. But the counting business, the looking back too often is my own folly. It's problematic for me, as well as unhealthy, and one of the reasons I'm still struggling with this loss after so much time has passed. For me, it still feels like yesterday. But that's what makes me think, as I alluded to earlier, that some cope better than others. That said, I'm confident you'll do far better than I. Why? Because you've opened up about it straight away, and here you've reached out to a unique community - a crew of very open, intelligent and, when necessary, caring folk from all over the place. I just went dark for 14 months, didn't use the family or resources to deal with my loss and rebuild / manage my life properly. So I've been my own worst agent in seeking recovery. I'm confident and genuinely pleased to know that you'll do better.

I hope life without Kevin for you and your family will eventually return to a state of near normalcy, with acceptance and peace. Like others here in the forum and everyone else who knows about this and speaks with you, I am so very sorry for your loss. Though I'm not a rigorously religious man, my prayers and thoughts go out to you and yours, in the coming days and weeks. Stay well.

-- James