In this week’s episode of Beyond the Loss, I sat down with executive leader, scholar, and author Dr. Thomas A. Dutta for a monumental milestone: the very first interview where he has spoken openly about the death of his son, Tommy, who passed away preterm over three decades ago.
“I lost a son, but I gained my soul.”
The Heavy Burden of “Being the Rock”
When Tom and his wife received the devastating news at the children’s hospital that their unborn son had widespread Down syndrome and would likely not survive delivery, Tom was a 31-year-old bank manager climbing the corporate ladder.
Like so many men in our society, his immediate instinct was to compartmentalize. He decided he had to be “the rock” for his family. He buried the trauma, put his head down, and became an incredibly busy corporate executive and CEO.
For 30 years, that grief remained hidden behind an armor of professional accomplishment. Underneath that success lay a silent, hidden layer of shame. Grieving fathers frequently struggle with a self-imposed isolation, feeling an unspoken pressure to “suck it up and be tough.” There is often a lingering, irrational sense of failure—a quiet whisper asking if they somehow let people down, or if they are unworthy of carrying their legacy forward.
Grieving Across Generations
The unlived future of a preterm child doesn’t just impact the parents; it ripples outward through the entire family system.
Tom shared the distinct ache of watching other fathers take their sons fishing or kick a soccer ball on weekends. As the years moved forward, that loss evolved into an intergenerational grief. When Tom’s father passed away in 2018, he left this world without ever having a grandson to take out on the water. We don’t just grieve who our children were in a single snapshot of time—we grieve into the future, tracking the milestones they would have reached and the familial loops that were left incomplete.
Building a Relationship Beyond the Loss
Many people outside the grief circle find it strange that we maintain active relationships with children who are no longer physically in the room. But when we look at family systems, naming our children and holding their place in the birth order is vital to our collective healing.
For Tom, Tommy isn’t an abstract memory from 31 years ago; he is an active participant in the present. In his home, a beautiful figurine sits in front of the fireplace, sealing Tommy’s original hospital bracelet and ultrasound image. Not a day goes by where Tom doesn’t look at it, anchoring himself to his son’s presence.
Whether it’s passing an internal comment about a World Cup soccer match, or visualizing Tommy as a whole, vibrant, smiling spirit matching an old childhood photograph, these relationships are real. Reclaiming those golden, imaginary moments—like envisioning a playful batter-fight while cooking waffles in the kitchen—is how we pull our children out of the trauma and back into our hearts.
From Corporate “Lone Wolf” to Radical Empathy
When we allow ourselves to be seen and heard by a safe professional or a community that offers unconditional positive regard, our historic traumas can do something miraculous: they open our hearts.
By processing his buried grief through his doctoral research in identity and neuroscience, Tom transitioned from a closed-off, corporate “lone wolf” to a leader driven by deep, relational empathy. Today, he volunteers with a prison ministry’s Parental Reading Program, sitting across from grown men in red jumpsuits within maximum-security libraries, holding a safe space as they weep while recording children’s books for the families they left behind.
Without the devastating loss of Tommy, that profound capacity for compassion would have never emerged.
If you are a parent sitting in the agonizingly early stages of a loss, struggling to imagine how you will carry this weight for decades to come, please listen to Tom’s words: It is okay to say that you are not okay. Reach out to a professional counselor who can hold space for you. The pain never truly leaves, but if you allow it to be spoken, you will find that the darkness can eventually transform into a vehicle that enriches society and helps you live your life to its absolute fullest.
Pattern-to-Practice: A Somatic Reflection for the Week
This week, I invite you to examine the mental and physical architecture you use to store your grief.
Take a moment to sit quietly, close your eyes, and notice where you are holding your losses. If unexpected grief rises over the coming days, gently activate your awareness and ask yourself:
Am I suppressing this memory to ‘be the rock’ for those around me?
Am I keeping my heart guarded out of fear or unaddressed shame?
If you feel a tightening in your chest or a sudden urge to push the feeling away, pause. Give yourself permission to step out of the lone-wolf mentality. Find one trusted person, a journal, or a professional space, and allow yourself to name what hurts. Say to your internal world:
“I do not have to carry this in isolation. My vulnerability is my strength.”
And let that settle into your body.
Learn more about Tom’s work, his leadership insights, and the Quiet Warrior movement through his websites and social platforms.
Connect with Dr. Tom Dutta:
Website: https://www.thequietrevelationinstitute.org/
KRE-AT: https://kreat.ca/
LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/tomdutta/
Instagram: @thequietwarrioreats
YouTube: @tomdutta
Additional Resources
Website: sharonspano.com
Podcast: https://sharonspano.com/podcast/podcast-beyond-the-loss/
YouTube: @SharonSpano-BeyondtheLoss-Host
Substack: drsharon on Substack
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About Beyond the Loss
Beyond the Loss: Life and Identity After a Child Dies is a podcast dedicated to helping grieving parents, bereaved families, and professionals navigate the emotional, relational, and identity shifts that follow the death of a child. Through compassionate conversations and clinical insight, we create space for healing, understanding, and honest reflection after profound grief.