Remembering With More Love Than Pain

A friend of mine once told me “If something seems beyond your capability right now, save it for your future self”.

When my son Kevin died of an accidental overdose on October 3, 2015, my life was shattered. Just thinking of him brought on feelings of unimaginable pain. Desperate for peace, I embarked on a deep dive into a spiritual journey where I learned about myself, the afterlife, and how to bring forth Kevin’s essence in all that I do. Little did I know my dogs would also be a huge part of my healing.

In my upcoming memoir: Life After Kevin: A Mother’s Search for Peace and the Golden Retrievers that Led the Way, I talk about the moment I had my first shift. 

It was a few months after Kevin had passed. I was putting my shoes on and asked my dogs out loud “Do you guys wanna go for a walk?” Tripp’s face had an expression much like Scooby-Doo anticipating a Scooby snack.  

I reacted with a giggle for the first time in months and it felt good. 

Eventually, I was able to think of Kevin with more love than pain. Even the times when he was on the edge of being naughty are funny to me now. When he was in kindergarten, I remember him testing our patience with a couple of swears. I had read in a parenting book not to make it into a big deal. 

“Mommy, is dammit a swear?” 
“Um, Yes, Kev, it’s a swear”
“OK, so I shouldn’t say dammit, right Mommy?”
“No, you shouldn’t”
OK, Mommy, I won’t say dammit anymore”.

Then there was the middle finger discussion sometime around six years old.

“Daddy, is this a swear?” Kevin asked while pointing just his middle finger to the side.
“Well, not really, but it’s not nice”.
“Ok, is this a swear?” pointing his middle finger down toward the floor.
“No, but it’s not nice Kev, so you shouldn’t do it”.
“But this is a swear, right?”, slowly turning his middle finger up.
“Yes, Kev, that is a swear”.
“OK, but not this way, right?”, quickly turning his middle finger to the side hoping to offset any trouble he might have gotten into by pointing it up.

Humor was the very essence of Kevin and when I laugh I can feel him laughing with me.

Dr. Melissa Morks talks about laughter and grief in this 3-minute video. In her bereavement therapy with clients, she will ask them “What did you do with your loved one for fun? What did they do to make you smile?” 

She says, “When we focus on how we enjoyed each other we feel closer to them”.

When a loved one dies, there’s no way around the pain. But, after we’ve cried an ocean of tears, we can start to participate in our healing. We can teach ourselves to look for the small seeds of love that help us shift just a little bit. Love can be whatever feels good: a giggle, the companionship of our dog, or a sign from our loved one. These seeds of love are small rays of light that act as breadcrumbs, leading us out of the darkness and toward our future selves. 

Today, my mantra is Joy and laughter are in alignment with my true nature and I honor Kevin by openly expressing them.

Susan Lynch is a former competitive dog trainer who has been training, competing and volunteering with her Golden Retrievers since 1995. In 2020, she founded Life with Rune, a Facebook community that documents the socializing and training of her own puppy Rune. In 2021, she was awarded the Rachel Page Elliot Lifetime Achievement award by the Golden Retriever Club of America. Her memoir Life After Kevin: A Mother’s Search for Peace and the Golden Retrievers that Led the Way is available here . To learn more, visit: www.susan-lynch.com.