"I was driven to write these letters because I thought it would be a way to ventilate. After all, keeping my feelings bottled up inside would stress me out further, and if my thoughts and emotions didn't find an escape hatch, they would remain buried deep inside me, like when I couldn't cry after my mom's death all those years ago. Writing to Rob helped me process what happened to him, what happened to us, and what happened to me."
"That's why I'm certain that writing to your child will help you, too. It documents your love and loss, and seeing your feelings come alive on the page connects you with your kid like nothing else. Staying connected to your child, however, cuts both ways. It opens you up and makes you bleed words of love and pain: sometimes it's sad and beautiful; sometimes it's agonizing and ugly; and sometimes it's all of the above swirled together like a crappy Mister Softee ice cream cone."
"It's just another way of putting in the work. All you have to do is sit down and let the words pour out. Don't think, just write. Tell them how much you love them. Tell them how much you miss them. Tell them the truth about how you're feeling. Tell them whatever you need to tell them. For example: Dear Rob,"
Countless letters were written to Rob after his death as a way to ventilate and process grief. Texting had previously been the closest form of contact, but that exchange proved largely one-sided and filled with inscrutable emojis. The letters recorded daily updates, jokes, and honest emotions that could not be expressed otherwise. Keeping feelings bottled up previously caused distress, and writing prevented those emotions from remaining buried. Writing documented love and loss and created a vivid emotional connection to the child. Staying connected opened painful memories as well as beauty, requiring active work and candid expression of love, pain, and truth.
Read at Psychology Today
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