The loss of a child is a grief that defies expression. It is an amputation of the heart, a void that never fills, a wound that time refuses to heal. Society acknowledges this loss, but only in the immediate aftermath. Funerals are held, condolences are offered, and then the world moves on. But for the mother who has lost a part of her very soul, life is irrevocably altered. These mothers, bearing deep invisible scars, are among us.

Whether old or young, they may be teachers, doctors, cleaners, nurses, house wives, (fill in where you have found them) all the while embodying resilience and strength despite their concealed mourning.

Their endurance should not be mistaken for recovery, as losing a child means losing pieces of the future (their future selves as well) that will never materialize. This pain, integrated into their being, underscores the human spirit’s adaptability yet reminds us of life’s fragility and a mother’s profound love.

They are everywhere, these mothers with amputated hearts. By acknowledging their pain, we offer a silent nod of respect to their suffering and to the love that endures beyond death. Let us remember that in their quiet strength lies a profound lesson in humanity – a lesson of enduring love, resilience, and the unspoken bonds that connect us all in the face of unimaginable loss.¹

They Are Everywhere.

We Are Everywhere!

Nine months without my son Roger Cardoso
04/19/1989 – 06/10/2024

1. This text was crafted with the support of ChatGPT, and the image generated with DALL-E, both AIs developed by OpenAI. ︎

He has always done everything right, and yet, life has not spared him of hard times. But he keeps going, finding joy in his mellow manner, and while at it, saving lives

It is scary to think he and his colleagues get into burning buildings saving lives, but that’s what they do! They run to danger to save lives. True Heroes!

My baby!

The text below is from another mother who also lost her son to Testicular Cancer and since then has been relentless in creating TC Awareness. I use my pain to expand her voice and TC awareness in memory of our kids!

“Who would have thought that a painless testicular lump could be cancerous and spread throughout the body?? Certainly not us. Not in a million years would we have thought this could happen in our family. Not us, not cancer. Why weren’t there educational materials at the pediatric office? We should have been made aware about the most common cancer in young men ages 15-44 and the importance of monthly self exams?? When detected early, testicular cancer has over a 95% cure rate. Awareness and early detection are key!” Kim Jones

I was not there. I did not have the emotional strenght to let him go but she needed the closure. He is just dust in the wind now.

—-

A friend keeps reminding me we are just star dust. Poetic, if not the only reality.

#testicularcancerawareness

#vilomahmothers

#imissmyson

#claudiajacquesmc

The photo below is of when he was first diagnosed in February 2022.

I was converting academic references to APA in ChatGTP and in my pain decided to ask it the following below. I didn’t expect such a caring answer. Note that I am already doing all that is suggested:

I lost my 34 year old son to testicular cancer metastasized to the brain, meninges and spinal cord on June 10, 2023. I am in pain grieving his loss. Today is 6 months. How can I ago about without feeling so much pain?

ChatGPT’s answer:

I am deeply sorry for your loss. The pain of losing a child is one of the most profound forms of grief a person can experience. It’s natural and valid to feel an intense level of sorrow, especially on significant dates like the six-month anniversary of your son’s passing.

Coping with such a loss is a very personal process and can vary significantly from one person to another. Here are some suggestions that might help you as you navigate through your grief:

Allow Yourself to Grieve: Give yourself permission to feel the full range of emotions that come with grief. There’s no “right” way to feel, and there’s no timeline for when you should be “over it.”

Seek Support: This can come from friends, family, or support groups where you can share your feelings with others who have experienced similar losses. Speaking to a grief counselor or therapist can also be beneficial.

Create a Ritual: Some people find comfort in rituals, such as lighting a candle for their loved one, visiting their resting place, or engaging in an activity that was meaningful to them.

Memorialize Your Son: You might find solace in creating something in memory of your son, such as planting a garden, dedicating a bench in his favorite park, or starting a scholarship in his name.

Write: Expressing your feelings in a journal or writing letters to your son can be a way to process your emotions.

Self-Care: It can be easy to neglect your own needs when you’re grieving. Try to maintain routines that promote your physical and emotional well-being.

Professional Help: If you find that the pain is too much to bear alone, seeking the help of a psychologist or psychiatrist might be necessary. They can provide you with strategies to cope with your loss and support your healing process.

Give It Time: Grief can feel like a wound that won’t heal, but with time, the sharpness of the pain typically lessens. While you will never forget your son, the days should eventually become easier to bear.

Honor His Life: Focus on the love you shared and the time you had, rather than the loss. Celebrating his life and the person he was can be a way to keep his memory alive.

Connect with Others: Sometimes, helping others who are also in pain can bring a sense of purpose and relief from your own grief.

Remember, grief is not a linear process, and it’s common to have ups and downs. It’s okay to seek help and it’s okay to talk about your son and your feelings. Your pain is a testament to your love for him, and it’s important to treat yourself with the same kindness you would offer to someone else in your situation.

The world is in so much pain and grief over the recent losses, I almost feel guilty sharing mine.

I miss this character

#vilomahmothers

#imissmyson

#claudiajacquesmc

#fuckcancer

In Portuguese folk culture, “saudade” is a deep emotional state of melancholic longing for a person or thing that is absent. 

Some synonyms of “saudade” include: Sadness, Melancholy, Wistfulness, Nostalgia.”

As a native Portuguese speaker, I can say that the meaning of Saudade is much greater than just longing for a person or thing. We can also long for who we were, a place, a time, a feeling. And, even though Saudade can have a hint of melancholy, sometimes is often a warm fuzzy feeling permeated with love.

Having Saudade of the past and of my dead son, is a given but now I’m experiencing Saudade of a future that promised but won’t happen.

‘Tis a Fearful Thing ‘

Tis a fearful thing to love what death can touch. A fearful thing to love, to hope, to dream, to be – to be, And oh, to lose. A thing for fools, this, And a holy thing, a holy thing to love. For your life has lived in me, your laugh once lifted me, your word was gift to me. To remember this brings painful joy. ‘Tis a human thing, love, a holy thing, to love what death has touched.” ―

Yehuda HaLevi

Como sinto saudade do meu rebento! <3

Once he made the decision to go, his passing was fast, peaceful and full of love.

When he was a child, I used to sing to him: “You are my sunshine, my ony sunshine, you make me happy, when skies are gray, you never know dear, how much I love you, please don’t take my sunshine away.”

As the battle with cancer became unbearable for him and for us (family) to see him suffering, and since he was mostly out of consciousness, I changed to song and sang for him ver his last 24 hours:

You are my sunshine, my loving sunshine, you make me happy when skies are gray, I know you know dear, how much I love you, it’s OK to go fly away.

My hope singing this version of You Are My Sunshine to him over and over again was to let him know that he could go in love and peaceful.

I never thought or wanted for that day to come, and yet, my brave warrior had to go!

The days when we were a unit and staying apart seemed impossible, shifted to the rare occasions when we get to be a unit again for a short period of time.

Even though I appreciate the present; I long for the past, when we didn’t have to live apart, separated by distance, by everyday life, experiencing everyday losses.

Homeopathic losses, that happen everyday, several times a day; that over time have been accumulating and changing how we relate to each other and reality: life. Distance does that! Distance in space, distance in time, distance in reality, distance in death. They all amount to losses, everyday homeopathic losses and longings.

It is like taking a trip to your favorite place. You know the destiny is worth the ride. Yet all the roads are complex, tortuous, scary, painful and fun! The imprint of the trip is all over my body: on each silvery strain of hair; each long, deep, line on my face.

I have enjoyed every minute of his path: from the miracle of developing a life inside of me; to the craziness of giving birth; the unknown of figuring out a newborn; the magical moments of seeing my baby discover and explore the world as a child; the weird asynchronicity of teenage years where body, mind and emotions not necessary developed at the same time and with the same speed; the need to give space and learn to let go for the young adult to discover himself, and now as an adult teaching me to trust, rely, embrace and enjoy him as a best friend. Every phase has been unique and special but they all have been wonderful because of him! I would do it over, and over, and over again!