Every Day in Every Way He Remains My Boy

By: Cindy Wilcox

As a mom who has lost a beloved son, I belong to the “Senior Adult Moms Loss of Adult Child” support group, provided by the Grief & Loss Center of North Texas. Each time we start our monthly group meeting, we go around and introduce ourselves and our children whom we have lost. I smile and say, “I’m Cindy. I lost my son Erik with a K.”  During our sacred time of sharing, this is truly the only time in my life where I get to speak about him without having to think twice about other people’s feelings. In the outside world, I wonder if I will make people uncomfortable to speak of my son Erik, if it will seem like it’s been too long since his death, or if I will I hear pity in their voice. Often I would really rather just stay by myself and not have to play any of this out with other people. But in this one group, lasting only an hour and a half a month, I am free to speak about Erik in any terms that fit the conversation without fear of having to watch my words. Each month, surrounded by other moms feeling all the same emotions, I am reminded of what an anchor this group provides in my life.

As I found out, life so often changes on a dime. On an early spring day, as I was leaving the beauty parlor, my son Brian called me and had Erik’s dad on the phone so he only had to say it once. He broke the news that Erik had been diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor. I’ve often heard the phrase ‘it brought me to my knees’ and in that horrific shocking moment, I slid down the wall hysterically. 

Miraculously, the Head Neurosurgeon at MD Anderson in Houston immediately saw Erik. Certainly, it’s one of the very best cancer hospitals in the country. This started our long roller coaster journey of hopes, prayers, determination and finally unimaginable loss. I lost Erik three years ago and that awful feeling of loss has yet to abate. This was so shockingly sudden that there was no preparation for anyone in his family or his friends. We went through the horror of the diagnosis, then surgery and the ensuing radiation and chemo. Just before the surgery I was talking with his caring and sensitive doctor. In those moments, my grown son - father of two young girls Abigail 8 and Amelia 7 and a happily married man to Kumiko - reverted instantly back to being my boy. All I could say to the doctor was “That’s My Boy, please just take good care of him.” And every day in every way he remains my boy.  

Erik was an incredibly intelligent, organized and meticulous man. He worked on Wall Street and used his organizational skills to juggle the firm’s clients while keeping the company profitable, the customers happy and everything legal! No small feat. As his condition worsened, the hardest thing for Erik was to know that the source of his greatest sense of self - his intelligence - was slowly diminishing. He said to me “It brought me to my knees, Mom”. Erik was with us 22 months following diagnosis, which allowed us to celebrate his 50th birthday just before he passed 3/30/2019.

Laurie Taylor, our gracious group facilitator and Director of The Grief & Loss Center has been there to truly listen to our group of moms, making no judgments and providing an outpouring of gentleness. The group experience gives us a safe place to be our authentic selves as we navigate our own unique journey of grief. I am so grateful for this very bright moment in my month that continues to grow in importance to me and to the rest of our Moms. I have been blessed to connect with this amazing support group, the only group I know of that is designed for moms grieving the loss of their adult children. Truly a much needed outlet for so many.