Last weekend, I was encouraged to attend one of my black belt funerals. Not only was this due to a devastating loss, but at the end of the church service I realized this is much more. It’s about the gathering of Christian families and beloved friends — not only for the deceased but for all surrounding us.

Sensei Josiah Cox has been part of my life since approximately age 7.

Hearing stories from when this young man was born all the way through to his 20th year in life, it was a strong celebration of life story. I learned so much more than I ever could imagine about this fine young man. I recognize now that I am honored to be called a friend to that family who just lost their son.

Josiah’s mother, Tedi, reached out to me the day he died. One of the first statements she made to me was that she is now in my club. I lost my son, Justin Matteson, 5 1/2 years ago. I didn’t know what to say to her other than I am sorry. But after the funeral service I realized what club we are in. We are in a unique club with no registrations. Our club has no boundaries or principles. There are no membership fees.

Membership is scarce but we are uniquely close to one another. Knowing that this club is reality, it is also a meaningful journey that we all share together and uniquely bond.

We can share our stories so others may find peace. Not the kind of peace to help us sleep better at night, rather the peace to help heal our wounds through other people.

There’s an old saying that when a wife loses her husband, she’s a widow. When a husband loses a wife, he’s a widower. But there is no title to when a parent loses a child. Think about that.

“Parting is such sheet sorrow” is a phrase from many years ago. For those of us who are faith-based Christians, we believe that our spirit and souls go to heaven and leave our bodies when we die. Others have their own beliefs. The fact is, as long as you believe, your heart will eventually mend. Having a path, but not seeing it in clear sight, is the direction of true faith and support for your heart toward healing.

The deceased’s parents asked for some advice. I gave them the same advice I heard when I lost my son. I told them that soon after the burial of Josiah, friends and family will fade away and return to their busy lives. They will have a sense of anger and confusion asking themselves, “How can people smile? Why aren’t people blowing up my phone with sympathy? How can people just move on?”

My world is upside down after losing my child. This is a reality of life. After experiencing a major trauma such as losing a loved one, especially a child, nothing will ever be normal again. All your friends and family that gave you sympathy are still there for you when you need them. The truth is, giving you this space so you can grieve appropriately and individually is one of the most valuable gifts to support you. This journey will be everyday and every waking morning.

Weeks will turn into months. And then you’ll repeat the grief of where did the time go and why is everybody living their life normally. And then the months will slowly turn into years. At that point, you learn to smile differently and hold your head up high. Everyone grieves differently. In my case, it was approximately six months after losing my son that I was able to talk about him and the joys ahead of him. And then after 5 1/2 years I look back and realize that the years just screamed by. I left behind a path of destruction with emotions. I cried so many tears that I could fill an ocean. I got angry at so many people that were just there to love me and support me.

Grief is a necessary emotion for all of us with this type of a loss.

My best advice is that if you ever join this club of ours, to brace yourself for these emotions of loneliness and despair and to learn to talk about your loved one and remember the joys that you all shared together individually. Those memories were put in your heart and mind for a reason. God is not evil. His plan is to not hurt you but rather teach you to use the tools that we all possess in our hurts.

With all this said, let’s go back to the beginning of my story. I deliberately left out one important part. Days after my son’s death my pastor came to me, put his hand on my shoulder and said one day you will find something good to come of this. The truth be told, that is not something you want to hear. Or is it?

I created COPE Foundation 19. We serve and help so many children that have lost their parents. One day Tedi and Jonathan Cox will find a way to share their son’s joys to people who need reassurance and support. And then you will remember where you were and how you felt in the beginning and then how you are now.

Thank you for listening to my story about the loss of a child.

If you ‘d like more information about our children’s non-profit, please log into www.copefoundation19.com

Bill Matteson is a Fredonia resident.