How Do Men Cope with Tragedy?

In 1986, not even a year after I got married, my first brother-in-law died in his sleep, the result of a grand mal seizure. He was only 26 years old. In 1987, my sister remarried and had a daughter, followed three years later by a son. In 1989, when Little Freddy was about eight weeks old, he died in his sleep, a victim of Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. His death date was almost three years to the day after the death of my first brother-in-law. The same ambulance crew responded to the emergency.

Living in New England when my nephew died, I was distant from these events, attending only the funeral. I remember very little about the service except the tiny white casket, and my mother comforting my sister who was, I believe, still in shock. I have no recollection of how my brother-in-law reacted to this event. In fact, all these years later, I barely recall his face with much accuracy. You see, he and my sister eventually divorced, due in part to his inability to, once again, embrace life after the death of his son.

The shootings this week at the Amish school in Nickel Mines, PA brought these memories to light as the news coverage reported that the perpetrator, Charles Carl Roberts IV, had suffered the loss of a child, a daughter of premature birth who died after only twenty minutes of life. These news articles also stated that Mr. Roberts felt an overwhelming sense of personal guilt and anger at God whenever he would experience joy and happiness with his three surviving children, knowing that his deceased child would never know such feelings.

I cannot even imagine the pain that this man, or my brother-in-law, must have experienced at the loss of their children, as I have never personally walked that path. My mother lost several children during pregnancy, the last one when I was in second grade. My best friend also records the loss of no fewer than four children over the last ten years, including a stillborn twin that was carried to term inutero alongside her surviving sister. Yet, these are women, women who have done a remarkable job of putting their profound losses in perspective and, somehow, carried on.

What is it about these men, Mr. Roberts and my former brother-in-law, that made it so difficult for them to move forward after such tragedy? We all know that Mr. Roberts descended into some dark place where violence against others seemed the only way out. My brother-in-law, too, descended to this place, holding up alone in a local motel while preparing to kill my parents and my sister. Thankfully, his mother reached him before he could act and convinced him to seek professional help. Yet, even after that immediate care, and with the years of care that followed, he was never the same.

So, my question is this, asked out of a sincere desire to understand because, as a woman, I think differently than a man, and as a parent who has never lost a child, I cannot possibly grasp the profound sense of loss that I am certain continues throughout every milestone that lost child would have reached: how do men cope with the loss of a child that differs from how women cope with the same tragedy? Is it more difficult for men to deal with their feelings of loss, or do they deal with them in a different way?

Just trying to understand something that is beyond my experience. Thanks for your help.