Someone asked me today if Jacob ever talks about losing his sister.
My answer was, "Not really. Sometimes, if I bring her up, but usually he gives a word or two and quickly changes the subject." He does talk to her when we go to the cemetery which is less often these days than the first few years. But in the day to day scheme of things, he doesn't normally bring her into conversation or talk about his feelings. At all.
This has worried me for some time. While I know everyone copes with loss differently...some people holding it in while others tend to share it out, I feared if he didn't talk about her EVER, it meant he was avoiding his grief and one day, it might back up on him all at once.
Jake has been to counseling at various points since Cory's accident: right when it happened, a year after when he began to show physical and emotional distress, and again, in the last year or so.
Jake popped out of the womb in a sweater vest and slicked back hair, capable of managing his emotions with little to no assistance from anyone. Naturally then, he self-diagnosed his need to return to therapy last year. He had learned about PTSD in a class at school and saw symptoms within himself of withdrawal and anxiety. So off we went. I was so relieved. I just knew that now that he was ready, he would open up to talk about how losing his sister had affected him on his own terms.
In short, he would be okay. More than anything in this life, I want him to be okay just as I wanted Cory to be okay. Watching your child be very much not okay and not being able to do much about it is a traumatic experience of sorts all on its own.
Guess what Jake seldom speaks about at therapy?
At first, I couldn't believe it. But over time, I've come to see just how different grief is for children and adults. Jake is growing and developing every day...still...and has been every day since July 5, 2012. The last seven and a half years have held major developmental tasks for him. Maybe, despite how much he dearly, dearly loved his sister and how much losing her most certainly devastated him, maybe he has some other things on his mind...about himself. About his place in the world. About his belief systems. About the future.
Pretty fricking normal, I'd say. Pretty well-adjusted and healthy for him to be focused on those tasks. He shared he thinks about Cory every single day. He misses her a lot. He wishes she was here. He is sometimes sad, but overall thinking of her brings back positive memories. He does not suffer from nightmares or intrusive thoughts about the accident. In his own words, he is "doing okay with it".
Jacob Norman...what am I going to do with you, you amazing young man?
I know that until he turns 26 or so, he will continue to process his loss in a constantly shifting kaleidoscope as his emotional and cognitive abilities expand. And beyond that age, he will continue to grieve for his sister his entire lifespan. I will be there as long as I draw breath to support him in whatever way makes him most comfortable. I will rein in my own anxiety and halt the projection.
He is doing okay.
And if that changes. If someday, he's not doing as okay with losing Cory as he is today...well, I hope he'll tell me about it. I think that he knows it's an acceptable thing in our family to say you're not doing okay and you need some help. After all, his big sister, rather bravely, showed us all how to do that.