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. ︎

The stringent dissonance of seeing hearts and red and more hearts and red on Christmas Eve Day highlighted the superficiality our societal beliefs.

Christmas? What Christmas? It’s already December 24^th, let’s promote Valentine’s Day merchandise!

By the way I was able to find the wrapping paper at a discounted price, since on December 24^th, Christmas was already a past ghost. Lucky procrastinator! The brief moment of scoring big on the discounted wrapping paper distracted my thoughts but the hypermediated hearts and red visual-temporal dissonance coupled with the Christmas versus Valentine’s Day cultural idiosyncrasy immersed me back into my thoughts on how capitalism highjacked the true meaning of love and caring for others. (No, this is not a woke, socialist rant. Although I would love to have been eloquent and levelheaded enough to be one.)

Today, February 14, 2024, a little bit short of two months since my Christmas wrapping paper score against Valentine’s Day merchandise dissonance, again I ponder about love! The day of hearts and red feels out of place. The visual semiotic symbolism may be comforting and expected everywhere but now the stringent dissonance of war and hatred from personal to global events is splashed everywhere in the media, in radio, print, screen, social media. Not that I believe media is the culprit. Media is to me a reflection of what we as society look like. At minimum, what sells, and we want to see. (Again, the woke rant, get a life! Leave capitalism alone!)

Despite the abundance of hearts and red and “Happy valentine’s Day” shares, love doesn’t seem to be in fashion these days. This feeling is highlighted by the dissonance of the amount of hatred, discord, and differences shared by us all (guilty here too). Sadly, love feels like a long-lost friend, who we think of fondly and long for but don’t know how to rekindle the friendship.

From the little deck which I sit now writing these words, love feels like a private, unique, almost obscene experience we all feel among our own or in the privacy of our hearts but are unable, or discouraged to share with others besides hearts and reds. (Makes me think of how impersonal and superficial Instagram red hearts are, and yet, I am a sucker for them.)

Back to February 14, to me and my clan, Valentine’s Day changed its meaning completely in the year of 2022. It became a symbol of loss, the beginning of loss of love. On February 14, 2022, one of ours (my then super healthy and accomplished 32-year-old son) had a pulmonary embolism while driving from Maryland to New York. That on itself was a heartbreaking event since he could have died right then and there, but what came next showed us love in different form and color from the hearts and red.

The days following Valentine’s Day 2022 felt like a horror movie that would get even more terrifying from scene to scene. In a period of four days, each day, hour, minute would bring another blow of bad news: pulmonary embolism, maybe cancer, definitely cancer, metastasized cancer, surgery, too weak for surgery, test, tests and more tests. Chemo, surgery, radiation, pain were the most predominant words in our conversations following the diagnosis of testicular cancer yet, looking back, love; deep, meaningful, caring love, was the outcome that invaded us all! Love is what kept my son alive for 16 months after that dreadful Valentine’s Day. Love for life, family, work, and his newfound woman nourished him enough to endure the hell he went through. This is love, not the hearts and red!

Learning from my son’s experience, may love, real love, the one that moves mountains and pains, shorten the differences, has no ifs or buts and warm the heart be with us all, not just today, but starting today!

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

Today, we celebrate not just your birthday but also your strength, kindness, and unwavering support. You’ve been my rock through toughest times, including the heartbreaking loss of Ro. Your compassion and resilience have been a guiding light for me, helping me navigate through grief with love and understanding.

On this special day, I want to remind you of how much you mean to me and how grateful I am for your presence in my life. Our families lifes.

You’re an amazing husband, father, and baba! Here’s to you and the many more years of joy, laughter, and love ahead!

I love you!

#HappyBirthday#GratefulHeart#FamilyStrength

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

Actually, the feeling that is new and harder to control is sadness. Joy, happiness and even anger I am very much acquaint with, but not sadness. This deep, sneaky pain in the heart that comes from nowhere and in the most weird places and situations.

Today I was sitting at the dentist reception area waiting to have a root canal treatment when this young mother came in accompanied by her young teen son. They were exchanging cell phone memes and laughing between themselves. Their little loving and fun exchange was so familiar to me!

I too shared that with my boys. And 20 years ago I was there, in the same waiting room, having fun with my teen boys. At this point, the tears started to come down and I could not stop. I was sobbing.

All I managed to do was ask the mother if I could give her something and I gave her a Testicular Cancer Awareness “Touch Yourself” card. The thought of that sweet mother loosing her boy was unbearable to me. Made me sob even harder. I hid in the bathroom after.

You see, I went to the dentist without my psychiatric service dog, Leroy, and I was there sobbing my life away. I’m still so raw! I can’t go out alone. Leroy would have refocus my attention, and taken me outside before I got so raw. I came out of the bathroom.

The receptionists were thinking I was in tears in fear of the root canal treatment but I didn’t bother to correct them. I’m fine with my mental health being off, admitting sadness is a lot harder to confront.

I managed to compose myself. Although while at the dentist chair, with a lot of local anesthesia and drills in mouth I could not stop thinking of the brutality of the dental work I was having. This lead me to remember that my poor son endured brain and body surgeries and all sorts of the most brutal and invasive treatments just to stay with us a little bit longer. As my brain was scanning through my son’s ordeals, I seemed to be making different faces and noises because the dentist asked me several times if I was in pain.

Yes, I was in excruciating pain but not from the treatment but from the thoughts I was having. Again, sad, sad feelings and painful memories. I guess the dentist being around Roger’s age didn’t help either.

After the dentist finished, I shared with him what was going on with me and why the faces and noises. I also gave him some “Touch Yourself” cards. A few minutes later he came back to tell me that he was tearing up and commiserated with me. So there I was sharing sadness with this kind young human. And now, again here, but if I don’t put it out, I feel I will stop breathing.

I may also be arrested for handing out cards to strangers suggesting boys and young men should touch themselves.

https://www.testicularcancerawarenessfoundation.org/

I’m grateful that I got a big goodbye hug from him 48 hours before he departed. I can still feel his warmth!

I’m grateful that he endured so much just to stay with us a little bit longer. 16 months of hell for him but hope for us!

I’m grateful that he was at the best of his life and got out of this earth feeling accomplished, respected and loved. I’m so proud of him!

I’m grateful for the privilege to birth him, raise him, see him grow into an amazing man. He always confronted me to be better!

But how cruel is this life to take away a son? And send a mother to enjoy the coming elder years with a hole in the heart.

I miss my son! No hope, prayer, god, heaven, despite the magical cycle of life, will allow me to enjoy him again in the now. Grieving for a child is an overwhelming reality!

My respect and love to all the mothers and fathers who experienced such loss and continued their journey without loosing joy in their hearts. They know (we know) how bittersweet life can become.