Turning Inward, Turning Toward by Ryan Peterson
Written by Ryan Peterson
Going through past journal entries and writings from the years after we lost our son Oak, it was difficult to find stories of hope. I found stories of grief and pain and loss that affected me in ways I did not expect. Some stories are hard to understand even now. I found stories of resiliency and survival, of picking up shattered plans and expectations and piecing life back together, somehow.
The grief journey is hard, as I expect most people reading to this page know by now.
Maybe that’s where our hope lies -- in this journey, in choosing to be broken, taking in the pain, grieving alone and with others, letting the loss in, and transforming the relationship with our loss children become a part of us in that unique and personal way. A way that is as special and intimate as one’s relationship with a living child.
As a loss father, it took me a while to find the path to connect to my son Oak. I watched as my wife reached out to and became a part of the RTZ community, how she was welcomed with open arms, and I see the benefits of that experience every day in her. I struggled for a long time on my own. At first, not knowing what else to do, I pushed on, head down, trying not to let the feelings of loss and grief derail me. I was functional on the outside, but my relationship with my wife and son – and myself - suffered because of it. I was turning away from a giant piece of who I was; of a chance to feel what life is about, all of life, the full circle, unwilling to feel the loss and the rebirth that follows.
Eventually I found a way to turn toward the loss and face the emotions involved. Over time I was able to make it a part of my life, a piece of who I am today. I started seeing a therapist who showed me how to live a fuller life by feeling the loss, by using those memories of my son to build a personal relationship with him and to strengthen the relationship with my wife. I was encouraged to write down anything and everything that came to mind as I thought back to what happened before, during, and after our loss. Piece by piece I built that connection to my son, and maybe as important, built the connection to the very person who lived and felt those experiences. Those experiences happened, they did change me, and my struggle was real and important.
My journey is still be difficult at times, as I expect all of you can relate to. I miss Oak and would trade all the words I’ve have and will ever write about him to be with him in person. Turning inward, turning toward, and facing the loss of my son has made me aware of the range of the human experience, what it means to be alive, what it feels like to love. I am hopeful that the path of connecting to all our loss children, and bringing that connection into our lives is out there and waiting for everyone.
