It was early in my loss, but after I had moved to a new city. I was trying to do more yoga, and I signed up for a studio near my home. Hanging out after a class one day, I remember the instructors talking about the owner and her new baby. They were cooing and ooing and all I could think was, “Well, goody for her!” in the most sarcastic way.
(I hate that I jump to rudeness and sarcasm sometimes. I’m working on it).
In any case, my thoughts weren’t gentle. And hearing about this beautiful child triggered mostly pain. It seemed like the owner had everything that was denied to me.
Later on, I was introduced to a new acupuncturist, and from there, I met someone who welcomed me to a private group for loss parents in our community. It was a small group, but sweet and welcoming. They were the people I needed in those early days.
And on my second month in the group, I realized the studio owner was a member.
I think back to my less than generous thoughts in the beginning. Sometimes things just come full circle.
And it’s also a lesson for me. Because regardless of what we see in front of us, we have no idea what is going on behind the scenes.
It’s something I think about when I’m tempted to judge.
I think one of the things I’ve learned over the past few years since my son’s death is that you never know what anyone else is going through. Even people who post on social media. Even people who are close. People keep a lot of pain to themselves.