The Loss of a Child (Loss, not death!)

In the story of my growing up and maturing, the book Ronin-Cita, I told the humorous tale of a dead wife. The ghost of a memory who turned into a reality once I grew up. I never knew in my wildest dreams of writing through the make believe death of my wife, that I would actually lose a child soon after the completion of the book.

How can one describe that pain. It is not a joke either like in Ronin. I did not lose her to death, I lost her to something so much worse. I lost her to life. Death is easy to deal with and accept on a certain level. But life, that is different. So much different indeed.

I started this current book as a humorous spoof about me and my mini-van that I acquired in Ronin. I never knew that a month later, the tone of my life would change so drastically, that I would still write with humor, but the darkness that accompanied it, would make Luke Magnotta look sane.

To lose a child, Wow, I have seen a lot pain in life, but I have seen a LOT more fun, lol. But this is different. It is not the greatest pain, it is not the longest, or any other summarative adjective. It is simply the most complete however. Some pains have colors attached to them, red-hot, white, or black, but the pain of losing a child is different. It needs no color, for in its completeness, it simply is. Hmmm, kinda like God "I am" - "It is."

But was a warrior, I have to respect it l for it is the perfect strike in its totality. When the enemy strikes you with a knockout blow, a true fighter enjoys it. For you have just learned a weakness in your fight. A true fighter does not fight because it is fun, a true fighter, has fun because he is fighting – there is a huge difference.

So when the enemy strikes you with the perfect blow; a blow that is complete in every conceivable way, it poses a quandary to a fighter. Do you hate him for it, or rather do you love him for it. The choice is not an easy one. For in the end you have to choose between the pain of your loss and your identity. If you choose the pain, you betray who you really are. If you choose your identity, then you deny the pain, and therefore the love you had for that child.

But Me, I have always chose option C in life. So I do here. I look for a way to blend the two into one perfect unit.

In the story of my growing up and maturing, the book Ronin-Cita, I told the humorous tale of a dead wife. The ghost of a memory who turned into a reality once I grew up. I never knew in my wildest dreams of writing through the make believe death of my wife, that I would actually lose a child soon after the completion of the book. How can one describe that pain. It is not a joke either like in Ronin. I did not lose her to death, I lost her to something so much worse. I lost her to life. Death is easy to deal with and accept on a certain level. But life, that is different. So much different indeed. I started this book as a humorous spoof about me and my mini-van that I acquired in Ronin. I never knew that a month later, the tone of my life would change so drastically, that I would still write with humor, but the darkness that accompanied it, would make Luke Magnotta look sane. To lose a child, Wow, I have seen a lot pain in life, but I have seen a LOT more fun, lol. But this is different. It is not the greatest pain, it is not the longest, or any other summarative adjective. It is simply the most complete however. Some pains have colors attached to them, red-hot, white, or black, but the pain of losing a child is different. It needs no color, for in its completeness, it simply is. Hmmm, kinda like God "I am" - "It is." But was a warrior, I have to respect it l for it is the perfect strike in its totality. When the enemy strikes you with a knockout blow, a true fighter enjoys it. For you have just learned a weakness in your fight. A true fighter does not fight because it is fun, a true fighter, has fun because he is fighting – there is a huge difference. So when the enemy strikes you with the perfect blow; a blow that is complete in every conceivable way, it poses a quandary to a fighter. Do you hate him for it, or rather do you love him for it. The choice is not an easy one. For in the end you have to choose between the pain of your loss and your identity. If you choose the pain, you betray who you really are. If you choose your identity, then you deny the pain, and therefore the love you had for that child. But Me, I have always chose option C in life. So I do here. I look for a way to blend the two into one perfect unit.