During the holidays, it came to me that even as people come together to love, enjoy, and celebrate together, some of us didn’t want to. A mother, father, sister, brother, child still crying over a loved one who was murdered made us not want to face others.
The easiest thing was to hide.
But at any time of the year, our anxiety can overtake us, and we become captives of fear, shame, embarrassment because our lives have been changed. We don’t understand how to regroup or feel like ourselves again. We don’t know who we are, or even recognize whom we became after the murder of our loved one.
It’s been more than seven years since I lost my son, Niam, but I can’t help but remember that first year, when fear kept me from going places and seeing people. I imagined everyone staring and whispering about my family, passing judgment. I didn’t give others a chance to talk with me because my guard was always up.
Yes, some people were judging my family, but keeping up a wall kept me from allowing to others in.
Some people will ask you about who you lost and how you feel. Some people just want to help, some will cry with you. Also, some will laugh at you, some will spread lies.
I say this because we can’t control our own feelings, so how are we supposed to control others’?
I was I had gotten that message myself, because I lost myself worrying about what others thought. Once I put my guard down and allowed others in my circle and began to trust again, I found out who was for us and who was against us.
I’ll never forget one year, one of my cousins told me she was upset with me because I didn’t place her or her children’s name in my sons Obituary. At first I ignored it, then she said it again to me, I ignored it once more. The third time I gave her a piece of my mind, turning into a person I didn’t recognize. I grew angry with myself because I allowed her to get under my skin, and I wasn’t proud of my actions.
That shame of how I reacted hurt me to the core and put me in a dark place for about month. My family and I sat down to discuss this matter. I cried and cried, my daughter had to reminded me that some people will always find fault with what you do. “Mom,” she told me, “you will never satisfy everyone.”
Hopefully your holiday season was full of gatherings with loads of support. Probably it was, but you also probably heard some negative words. But if you remember that life, eventually, again will be full of love, laughter and fun, you will be able to hold your head up high and smile even as you ride this emotional rollercoaster.
Don’t allow anyone to dictate what you can and cannot do for your child. Your life and your family’s life has changed forever.
If you are not participating a group who knows what you’re going through, find it. There are plenty in Philadelphia, and you can find some if you click here. They can help you cope and deal with the pain of losing a loved one to murder.
Meanwhile, forget the haters. They don’t know what they’re talking about.
A couple resources:
John F. Kennedy Behavioral Health Center 112 N Broad St. Phila, PA 19102
Community Behavioral Health 801 Market St. Phila, PA 19107
Click here for more
I continue to live without my son, Niam, my mind continues to wonder why am I in this life changing situation and why does it hurt so bad? Let me begin to tell you at one point I felt like I was the only one in this place and I began to talk and release what I was feeling not caring what anyone had to say.
We feel that as people we have to be strong, save ourselves from feeling hopeless, vulnerable or even being a burden on others but why? Is it because we were raised to hide our emotions, feelings, hurt, or pain? Is it a sign of weakness that we hide our true feelings and fight within ourselves to hide our tears and run away when we feel that tears run down our cheek?
How do we get past feeling sorry for ourselves, how do we get the pain out without worrying about what others will say?
For years I distanced myself from others after my son’s murder. I felt sorry for myself, I felt ashamed, I felt scared, and in shock. I constantly worried what others thought and said about my family. I felt safe in the confines of my home. I didn’t want to answer questions; I didn’t want to hear comforting words that people always would say which was, “God won’t put more on you than what you can bear.”
I wanted to control my little world and I did but was I really living life?
As we celebrate the Holidays please be kind to yourself!!! That’s the first thing. Some may ask how do you be kind to yourself? It can be as simple as forgiving yourself and stop blaming yourself. Stop asking the question, why. Stop avoiding people. Get back into your social life one step at a time, one gathering per month until you feel that you can do more. Re-learn to laugh again, and not feel guilty because you are laughing and learning to live again. I know it’s hard but you can do it.
Last year at my families Thanksgiving, I fell and slid across the room while playing a game we saw on TikTok. At first the room went silent and I just busted out laughing and then everyone laughed with me and at me. It felt so good to laugh again.
I laughed for about two hours at myself as I watched the video over and over again. It was refreshing to hear myself laugh again, it was refreshing to smile again, it was refreshing to live again. Guess what it was me again. Everyone ran up to me and asked if I was alright and I just laughed with them. I forgot what my laugh sounded like, I forgot how to smile again, and how to be happy again. I even posted the video on my Facebook and I remixed it to Thriller by Michael Jackson.
What I learned from that day was its alright to hurt, feel grief, disappointment but don’t stay in that space. Give yourself days to feel those emotions and then push yourself to enjoy the rest of your life. It doesn’t mean you forgot about your child but we have to re-learn how to live again.
As you go through the first or the few years of your child not being with you in the flesh learn to create new memories as you honor your child.
For Thanksgiving make his/her favorite dish, give back to the community, or make a donation in your child’s name. For Christmas, make ornaments with your child picture on it, invite some of your child’s friends over and talk about the good times all of you shared together.
Just learn to love, live, and laugh again it will lighten the load.
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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