Sarah Nigbor

One of the hardest parts of being a parent is watching your children experience sadness. I hate seeing anyone cry, because my heart hurts with them when they do, but watching my daughter cry just about rips me apart. Not the fake crying when she’s trying to get out of a chore, get her brothers in trouble or get me to feel bad for her and buy her something she’s begging for. But the crying that truly comes from genuine hurt or sadness. It makes me feel helpless because I want to fix it.

I had one of those moments this weekend. My daughter came home from her dad’s extremely sad because they sold one of their dogs. She worried if the dog would like her new home, if she thought they didn’t love her anymore, if she had been kind enough to the dog. I tried to assure her that the pup would be happy in her new home where she’d have a pup brother, that she would never forget her kindness. As the tears flowed down her face, my eyes welled up too. It’s absolutely normal for her to miss the dog and cry. I just hate to think of her hurting.

According to a 2016 article by FBI behavior analyst Jack Schafer, “the height of personal happiness can only be measured by the depth of personal sadness.” Without sadness, happiness has no meaning. That actually makes a lot of sense. How could you know true happiness and joy without experiencing sadness and grief? Maybe the joyous moments make those awful ones more bearable.

Schafer goes on to say that many people live their lives in the “middle zone.” They spend time protecting themselves from sadness and emotional pain, so much so that they limit the depth of their personal relationships. They build invisible walls around themselves to keep out the pain. However, this also keeps out the potential for true happiness. An interesting thought to ponder.

I am guilty of building walls, trying to keep out pain. After my first husband and I divorced, I swore up and down I’d never feel that kind of deep, gut-wrenching pain again. I retreated into myself, into my work and raising my daughter. I distanced myself from friends, not because I didn’t like them anymore, but because I couldn’t emotionally handle the possibility of more pain. Obviously not the right path to take, but a hard habit to break.

I believe people who have felt gut-wrenching grief and pain are more empathetic people. Feeling the pain of others is tough if you haven’t felt something similar yourself.

While I don’t wish pain and grief upon my children, I know I can’t prevent it. Those moments are times they have to experience and I’ll always be with them through it all. But that doesn’t make it any easier to watch. I’ve often wished I didn’t feel things so deeply, but I do. I’m a person of extremes and contradictions. So many people throughout my life told me not to be so sensitive; I believe they were wrong. Being sensitive doesn’t mean I’m weak; in fact, I think it’s made me stronger because I know how to get through tough times.

Many parents will watch their children grieve this week after the tragic death of an Ellsworth Middle School eighth grader, not to mention the child’s family and friends. My heart aches for them all. It’s hard to understand why these things have to happen, but only God can answer that. The only silver lining in any of this is that Pierce County/Ellsworth Community School District residents come together in times of need.