Imagine getting up every day and putting your clothes on and part of your attire is a smile you have to paint on. Imagine struggling each day with your inner thoughts blaming yourself, what if I would have, did I tell my child, “I love you” enough. Is my child alright, why isn’t my child visiting me in my dreams, who killed my child, why isn’t my child’s case solved yet?
As a parent we struggle each day fighting with ourselves. We struggle each day with not knowing what really happened. We struggle each day to eat, care for our other children, work, and our daily tasks at hand, and around the holidays it’s even harder.
Soon after losing my son, I remember at first I no longer wanted to live anymore because I felt like I failed my child as a parent. Most parents have expectations we place on our children as well as try our best to raise our children to be contributing members of society. So when I first received the call to get to the hospital now because my baby was shot, my heart dropped when I had to sit in that dark, cold waiting room waiting for a doctor to come talk to me. No matter how many times one tells that same story, it never sits right with me.
There are some parents who can’t take the grief and unfortunately pass away from what I described as a Shattered Heart. A Shattered Heart is when the pain is so deep that its unbearable, your heart is not broken but its shattered into a million pieces in which a bandage cannot repair. A Shattered heart is caused by a relationship you cherish. The pain gives one panic attacks, unknown illness, sleepless nights, restful nights, inability to have conversations without breaking down crying, not eating and the list goes on.
When someone asks you how are you doing and you say, “I’m doing fine,” deep down inside you are fighting back tears, hoping this conversation ends well. At times, the feelings become overwhelming when people continuously ask you questions, especially when you don’t wish to talk to anyone.
During this holiday month, many people are fighting a silent battle within themselves. This battle is new to most of us and we don’t know the outcome. Most of us want our old lives back surrounded by our loved ones, as many would say the good ole days. We dream about good times that we shared and briefly smile as we think about our loved ones.
When my son was first murdered, I would go to Macy’s because that was the last store my son and I were at. I saw a young man with a small child that resembled him and my grandson. I just looked at them for about 10 minutes and cried. I cried because my son was no longer here to raise his son. My grandson would not remember his daddy. I quickly left the store in tears but told the young man to please forgive me and told him my story. He looked at me and said, “Miss, I’m sorry for your loss,” and he promised me that he would try his best to be a great daddy to his child.
We must remember that our children did exist and we are now their voice, our other children are their voice as well. Although we are hurting, we must continue to push. Never be ashamed of what you’re going through but how you rise from this and help others get through the storm.
NEVER BE ASHAMED of receiving professional assistance. When you seek out assistance, this means you have taken the first step in acknowledging that a problem exists, that you need guidance to get through the storm. When you ignore the red flags, you can cause yourself to go into a deeper depression as well as pick up other negative factors. We have seen some of these negative outcomes, such as people ending their own lives because they failed to get professional advice or received inadequate assistance.
Always remember if you are suicidal please contact the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline at 988, a toll-free hotline that is open 24 hours a day, seven days a week. Keep this number for yourself and pass it out. Remember, you matter!!!
Kimberly Kamara is the author of “Where’s My Daddy,” a children’s book aimed at kids who’ve lost a parent to murder. The book was inspired by her family’s continuing journey of grief after her son, Niam Johnson-Tate, lost his life to gun violence on July 5, 2017. Kimberly has two daughters and lives in Germantown with her husband.
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