i think...

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

... i want to write a book. let me explain.

in those days, weeks and months after cooper died people sent me books. people who cared about me and thought that a book on grief would help. it was a nice gesture. and i did look at the books, and even attempted to read many of them. but i just couldn't. they were not what i needed. what i needed, besides the obvious, was someone's real life account of loss, not loss of a parent, sibling or spouse, but loss of a child. not a miscarriage.  a child. while a miscarriage is a loss, it is a different loss than losing a child who was born, who breathed and who lived with you.  i needed that book to not only be about the loss, but it needed some redemptive quality. a glimmer of hope that i would survive the chasm in my heart and find happiness again. that was the kind of book i needed and i could not find it.  i have mentioned my desire to write a book to a few close  tribe members, but have kept it to myself. now i am putting it out there.

why? because i have heard too many stories lately, one only yesterday, about people losing babies. i want them to know they are not alone, that despite having their world crumble around them that they will survive, they will have happiness and they will love another child again. so many people want to make their loved ones "ok" after a loss. perhaps it is our societal stigma or discomfort surrounding death. people struggle with the right thing to say, and say the wrong thing.  i could never fault people for wanting me to be ok after cooper died. but the reality is that what happened, losing him, was not ok. no one could make it ok. almost two years later, it is still not ok. but i am ok. and more than that, i am ok with his death not being ok. this was hard for me to wrap my mind around and even harder for those have not walked in my shoes. however, my ability to own the fact that his death was not ok, allowed my heart to mend, gave me the ability to find happiness and see the many gifts that my cooper gives me every single day. the biggest one being his little brother chace.

while my way of dealing with my loss is not the only way to do so, nor i have i always been graceful about it. i do work hard and have done hard work, sometimes impossible work since that day in december that forever changed my life. and every day i make a conscience choice to live my life in a way that honors cooper. there are still nights that i cry myself to sleep or want to go down the drain with the bath water, but i choose to keep putting one foot in front of the other each every morning and will continue to do so until the day that i die. and this is what i want people to know.

am i utterly crazy?


  1. No, you are not crazy. You are courageous, brave, full of wisdom and
    insight about yourself and others, passionate, hopeful and willing to share your pain and joys. Your ability to identify and express your feelings is amazing. So many people can and do benefit from your thoughts and words even if they have not suffered the greatest loss
    of a child. Go for it!


  2. Do it. Start writing. Just start writing and see where it takes you. Amazing things could come from this! I think the crazy thing is to not do it. ;-)

  3. if you have something to say (and i think you do), you should write it down.

  4. SG said it so well....but you really nailed it when you, in your typical realistic honesty, said that it is okay that Cooper's death is not okay and never will be. Some things can just never be sugarcoated. But the level of understanding I hear from you is, at least in my mind, what makes you so strong right now, even in the times when you don't feel strong.
    And you're so right in that we all want to "fix" the ones we love when they hurt...but no one can really do that for another person. YOU have done the work to get where you are now, and I hope that, in some small way at least, you're proud of that. I know we're proud of you.
    Love ya,
    Oh, yeah....of COURSE you should write a book!

  5. I am so humbled to know you. To be a part of your tribe. You are amazing. I cannot wait to see what you come up with. (AFTER the craft show.)
    You are brave. Perhaps only beacuse you have to be, but it is admirable still the same. My favorite healing phrase is yours. "It's not ok. Its ok that it's not ok. But I am ok." And what you said when I was visiting. That you made a conscious choice: you lost your son. Tragic enough by itself. You weren't going ton lose your marriage, your sanity, yourSELF too. Brave. Just. Plain. Brave.

    I love the heck out of you.

    But you know that.


  6. Luc - you know you've struck a chord when I comment (me, being the perpetual lurker!). I think this is a fabulous idea. And I dare say you've already written your book. Just take your blog and bind it...it's already done. Trying to re-write or somehow summarize everything seems unfair to all of the raw emotion you've already poured out.

    I can never imagine what you've been through. But as someone who has read your blog with a box of kleenex, I can only tell you that your story is powerful, and has probably already touched people that you don't even know about.

    I think the most important question is, when you were in your darkest moments, would reading your blog (if it were written by someone else) have helped you heal, helped you know it was going to be okay? And if the answer is yes, then you've already got your book. :)

    You have always inspired and amazed me. Go ahead and share that with the world!

    - Amanda

  7. Lucinda~ I think your gut instinct is right. You have an incredibly hard story to tell but I think you could accurately retell the story of deep pain, fear, tears, and hurt while also giving that grieving parent a glimpse of hope. Only someone who has come out on the other side can do that. I say go for it! ~ Love your blog.

  8. Absolutely, Lucinda. You've already started with your beautiful blog. It would be an amazing gift for (too) many women -- and for those struggling to know how to best love those who have lost.

    love love

  9. Dear Lucinda,
    I'm reading your blog for almost 18 months now. It's a great blog, a story of courage, honesty, sincerity! A story of grief, despair, irredeemability, too. And a story of hope, love and faithfulness. You made me feel your loss, your going step after step through your mourning (I cried a lot while reading your blog). And finally the "repair" of your broken heart, the love for Chace and I am so thankful for you being happy again, even if it's still not okay that Cooper had to die. He gave and gives you a lot of wisdom and affection for the people around you and even for strangers like me...
    Do it! Write your book! And maybe it's a good idea to publish your blog. It's so straight from the heart...
    Lots of love,