Shortly after loosing my son Jude, someone said to me “You have to let him go”. I can tell you now and certainly would have told you then, just a few short weeks after loosing him, that statement was not helpful – at all! At the time, my body and mind were still numb and I couldn’t even grasp at the basic intention that was behind the statement. I’m sure there was some form of pure support intention behind the statement, but the thing is, even if I was in a position to grasp the intention behind the statement, letting go of your dead child is just something that you simply can’t do.

It’s not as simple as releasing your grip on a balloon string and watch it float away into clear blue skies. There are no blue skies after loosing a child and your child is not a balloon. Being told that you “need to let them go” is not as simple as it sounds, nor is it as liberating from the darkness of grief as most of those around us want to believe. Letting go is not that simple – a truth that is once again being demonstrated by the worlds beloved Orca Killer Whale, Tahlequah, who is once again holding on to her dead calf as part of her grieving process.

This year, will mark a decade since I lost my boy and I’m still grappling with the art of letting go. I know I will never let him go and that is not what I’m grappling with. I know that he’s forever a part of me and I of him and that will never change or dissipate despite the passing years. What I am learning to let go of is the rituals that no longer serve my grieving journey, the guilt that overwhelms and consumes me, the need to share him with everyone. Letting go of those things and making room for new ways to share his light, honour the lessons and light the path for those traveling their own grief journey behind me is how I’m choosing to embrace this next part of my journey.

And like Tahlequah, the Orca Killer Whale who carried her first dead calf for 17 days (1,000 Miles) in 2018, we the bereaved parent, will only “let them go” when we are ready. Our definition of letting go is not the same as of those witnessing our grief journey from the sidelines. It is completely different and utterly unique – just like our child(ren). Grief paralyzes us, holds us hostage, changes us, moves us and expands us. We can’t let it go – it needs to let us go. And that does not happen with time, it can only happen with comprehension, appreciation and gratitude for the lessons learned and love endured.