Each year 25,000 young people between the ages of 15 and 24 die violently from murder, suicide, or accident. A child's unexpected death shatters parents' most fundamental assumptions about their own future, their self-worth, and the meaning of life.
Finding peace and a new normal and what some would call “a meaning for the loss” after the loss of any child is challenging, but for parents whose children die violently, it is much more difficult. Some specialist say that the key to finding peace is to eventually find some kind of meaning in what feels like a senseless disaster.
Studies have shown that parents who found meaning, reported less mental distress, happier marriages, and better physical health than parents who hadn't made sense out of their children's death. Murphy’s study showed that parents that attended bereavement support groups were the most likely to find significant meaning in their child's death. Parents typically seek two kinds of meaning.
First, they search for the concrete causes and remedies for their children's deaths. They focus on the drunk driver, the stray bullet, the fateful decision that put someone at the wrong place at the wrong time, or a child's suicidal depression. They may gather details of the accident or ponder obsessively what everyone could have done to prevent the death. Studies show that most parents find meaning at this level within a year, but that doesn't lead to peace.
It usually takes years to find the deeper meaning that characterizes the second stage of recovery. This is when a parent can feel grateful for the 16 years, "we had him/her around". The road to deeper meaning is long and difficult. Only 12% of parents find it within the first year. Usually it takes 3-5 years, and then, only 57% of parents are likely to achieve it, according to Murphy's study.
Most parents who found deeper significance said that they gained new insights into the purpose of life and reordered their own priorities. "I have realized that life isn't just about work, but about people and relationships." Others found existential meaning, coming to believe such things as, "everything happens for a purpose."
Parents whose children were murdered, understandably, find it more difficult to find meaning, but agreed, that attending bereavement support groups helped greatly to find significant meaning in their child's death.
~ Article by Roberta Lester-Britton and Michael Walker who specialize in helping parents cope with their death of their child. www.beachpsych.com (source: Psychotherapy Networker and a study conducted by Shirley Murphy of parents whose children died violently)
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Monday, September 27, 2010
What is grieving?
~ by Cherie Houston
Sadly, those of us who have lost children all know that the death of a child is a particularly difficult kind of grief. No parent ever expects their child to die before them. It is out of the natural order of things and it is something that we all agree, should never have happened. But it does happen…
To me, it seems that it’s our own personal previous experiences of loss and grief, which affects the way we grieve for our own child. Whether our child died before they were born, or when they were an infant, young child or young adult, or a much older adult child – age doesn’t matter. We all should remember though that grief is natural and it is our own unique way of expressing how we feel and cope with losing someone who was and is so important in our life. It's OK and it's NORMAL!!!
Some people think that you can only grieve for a child who has been born alive and one that you have got to know, if only for a short while – how totally ridiculous and untrue.. As a parent, we don’t begin to love our children once they enter the world – I think we begin that relationship and that love for them as soon as we know or expect that we are expecting (even if that expecting is through adoption!)… Because of this, grief is every bit as real for those parents whose children die before or shortly after they are born..
By the same token, even though our child that died might have children or even grandchildren of their own, it doesn’t mean that their death will be less devastating to us, their parents. Yes - grieving is different for each of us, but the age and circumstance of our children’s deaths doesn’t matter – they are our children, now they are gone and we have to go on living without them physically here with us. So we grieve..
There is no right or wrong way to grieve. Each of us will grieve in our own way, at our own pace.
Grieving means accepting the reality of what has happened and learning to live with the change that has taken place in our lives and readjusting our dreams for the future. And this acceptance happens slowly...
Grieving isn't about forgetting our child who has died, it simply means we have to find a place for our child in our life and in our hearts. We find a way to remember our child, without losing our breath or feeling that seemingly unbearable heartbreaking pain that we felt when our child first died.
We know, that despite popular beliefs about grieving, that time alone does not heal. We’ve learned, that it is only through this journey of grieving that we begin to work through the terrible heartbreaking pain. For some parents, the loss of a baby or child years ago was not seen as a significant loss and for these parents, their grief may only be acknowledged years later when they least expect it.
It serves no purpose whatsoever to compare or judge the intensity of feelings involved in anyone else’s grief. We have to remember, that we are each different and our journey through grief will be different also ~ but we can and will survive ~ and how blessed we were to have had our children in our lives and for that we can and should be thankful…
Sadly, those of us who have lost children all know that the death of a child is a particularly difficult kind of grief. No parent ever expects their child to die before them. It is out of the natural order of things and it is something that we all agree, should never have happened. But it does happen…
To me, it seems that it’s our own personal previous experiences of loss and grief, which affects the way we grieve for our own child. Whether our child died before they were born, or when they were an infant, young child or young adult, or a much older adult child – age doesn’t matter. We all should remember though that grief is natural and it is our own unique way of expressing how we feel and cope with losing someone who was and is so important in our life. It's OK and it's NORMAL!!!
Some people think that you can only grieve for a child who has been born alive and one that you have got to know, if only for a short while – how totally ridiculous and untrue.. As a parent, we don’t begin to love our children once they enter the world – I think we begin that relationship and that love for them as soon as we know or expect that we are expecting (even if that expecting is through adoption!)… Because of this, grief is every bit as real for those parents whose children die before or shortly after they are born..
By the same token, even though our child that died might have children or even grandchildren of their own, it doesn’t mean that their death will be less devastating to us, their parents. Yes - grieving is different for each of us, but the age and circumstance of our children’s deaths doesn’t matter – they are our children, now they are gone and we have to go on living without them physically here with us. So we grieve..
There is no right or wrong way to grieve. Each of us will grieve in our own way, at our own pace.
Grieving means accepting the reality of what has happened and learning to live with the change that has taken place in our lives and readjusting our dreams for the future. And this acceptance happens slowly...
Grieving isn't about forgetting our child who has died, it simply means we have to find a place for our child in our life and in our hearts. We find a way to remember our child, without losing our breath or feeling that seemingly unbearable heartbreaking pain that we felt when our child first died.
We know, that despite popular beliefs about grieving, that time alone does not heal. We’ve learned, that it is only through this journey of grieving that we begin to work through the terrible heartbreaking pain. For some parents, the loss of a baby or child years ago was not seen as a significant loss and for these parents, their grief may only be acknowledged years later when they least expect it.
It serves no purpose whatsoever to compare or judge the intensity of feelings involved in anyone else’s grief. We have to remember, that we are each different and our journey through grief will be different also ~ but we can and will survive ~ and how blessed we were to have had our children in our lives and for that we can and should be thankful…
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Life Is Eternal
LIFE IS ETERNAL..
~ - Henry Van Dyke
I am standing on the seashore.
A ship at my side spreads her white sails
to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean.
She is an object of beauty and strength.
I stand and watch her until she hangs
like a speck of white cloud,
just where the sea and sky
come to mingle with each other.
Then someone at my side says, “There. She’s gone.”
Gone where? Gone from my sight-that’s all.
She is just as large in mast and hull as she was
when she left my side.
Her diminished size is in me, not her.
And just at the moment when someone says,
“There. She’s gone,”
But, there are other eyes watching her coming,
and other voices shouting,
“Here she comes!”
And that is dying.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Life After Loss: How The Death of A Baby Changes You Forever
Excerpt from an article written by Ann Douglas…
During those intensely painful days after my daughter Laura was stillborn, I remember feeling that I was at a crossroads in my life-that two separate paths lay before me: I could let this tragedy destroy my life and break my spirit or I could find a way to make something positive come out of my daughter's death. Fortunately for me, I inherited the stubborn gene from my parents, so giving up on life really wasn't a viable option for me. So, by default, I gravitated toward the second alternative: finding a way to make something good come out of this most searing of losses.
While I would never have wished this on myself, the death of a baby is too big a price to pay for any personal growth experience, I have been forever changed by the experience of losing Laura. In many ways, I'm a better person than I was before that fateful day five years ago when a tiny piece of my heart was forever broken.
For one thing, I'm more compassionate. I feel an immediate bond with any parent who has experienced the death of a baby as well as anyone else who is grieving the death of someone significant in their life, be it a spouse, a parent, or a close friend.
My volunteer work with grieving parents and the articles and books I've written on miscarriage, stillbirth, and infant death have allowed me to make a difference in the lives of other parents who've experienced the tragedy of losing a much-wanted baby. That means a lot to me.
I'd say I'm more aware of what it feels like to be really connected to someone-heart-to-heart and soul-to-soul. I have a very special friend whose baby died shortly after mine did. The two of us spent a lot of time together in the weeks that followed, sharing our grief about the babies who would never come home.
Another perk: I'm less of a control freak. After all, I've learned the hard way that some things are out of your control-and some things can't be fixed, no matter how desperately you want to put the pieces back together again.
I've come to terms with my fear of death. Being forced to deal with the death of my child has forced me to confront my own mortality.
I've also learned how to put things in perspective. A leaky ceiling, a missed deadline, a squabble with my husband, or a minor fender bender no longer qualify as a crisis for me. I now save the "crisis" label for the real life-and-death situations.
Finally, I'm better able to celebrate the wonder in everyday life. Rather than looking forward to that magical day when my mortgage is paid off, I reach my goal weight, and I have a book or two on the bestseller list (hey, a girl can dream, can't she?), I'm more inclined to delight in what's happening in the here and now: to savour the joy I feel when my youngest child, Ian, hugs my leg and says, "I really love you, Mom" and to enjoy the way my heart lifts when the telephone rings and there's a special friend on the other end of the line.
There are just a few of the gifts that Laura gave to me during her brief journey through my life. These gifts are her legacy to me.
Ann Douglas is the author of 21 books, including The Mother of All Pregnancy Books: The Ultimate Guide to Conception, Birth and Everything in Between, The Mother of All Baby Books: The Ultimate Guide to Your Baby's First Year, The Unofficial Guide to Having a Baby, Baby Science and Trying Again: A Guide to Pregnancy After Miscarriage, Stillbirth, and Infant Loss. She is a regular contributor to ePregnancy and WebMD, and has been featured in Parenting, Working Mother, and Good Housekeeping. She is the mother of four children, ages 5 through 14, and can be contacted via her web site http://www.having-a-baby.com/
During those intensely painful days after my daughter Laura was stillborn, I remember feeling that I was at a crossroads in my life-that two separate paths lay before me: I could let this tragedy destroy my life and break my spirit or I could find a way to make something positive come out of my daughter's death. Fortunately for me, I inherited the stubborn gene from my parents, so giving up on life really wasn't a viable option for me. So, by default, I gravitated toward the second alternative: finding a way to make something good come out of this most searing of losses.
While I would never have wished this on myself, the death of a baby is too big a price to pay for any personal growth experience, I have been forever changed by the experience of losing Laura. In many ways, I'm a better person than I was before that fateful day five years ago when a tiny piece of my heart was forever broken.
For one thing, I'm more compassionate. I feel an immediate bond with any parent who has experienced the death of a baby as well as anyone else who is grieving the death of someone significant in their life, be it a spouse, a parent, or a close friend.
My volunteer work with grieving parents and the articles and books I've written on miscarriage, stillbirth, and infant death have allowed me to make a difference in the lives of other parents who've experienced the tragedy of losing a much-wanted baby. That means a lot to me.
I'd say I'm more aware of what it feels like to be really connected to someone-heart-to-heart and soul-to-soul. I have a very special friend whose baby died shortly after mine did. The two of us spent a lot of time together in the weeks that followed, sharing our grief about the babies who would never come home.
Another perk: I'm less of a control freak. After all, I've learned the hard way that some things are out of your control-and some things can't be fixed, no matter how desperately you want to put the pieces back together again.
I've come to terms with my fear of death. Being forced to deal with the death of my child has forced me to confront my own mortality.
I've also learned how to put things in perspective. A leaky ceiling, a missed deadline, a squabble with my husband, or a minor fender bender no longer qualify as a crisis for me. I now save the "crisis" label for the real life-and-death situations.
Finally, I'm better able to celebrate the wonder in everyday life. Rather than looking forward to that magical day when my mortgage is paid off, I reach my goal weight, and I have a book or two on the bestseller list (hey, a girl can dream, can't she?), I'm more inclined to delight in what's happening in the here and now: to savour the joy I feel when my youngest child, Ian, hugs my leg and says, "I really love you, Mom" and to enjoy the way my heart lifts when the telephone rings and there's a special friend on the other end of the line.
There are just a few of the gifts that Laura gave to me during her brief journey through my life. These gifts are her legacy to me.
Ann Douglas is the author of 21 books, including The Mother of All Pregnancy Books: The Ultimate Guide to Conception, Birth and Everything in Between, The Mother of All Baby Books: The Ultimate Guide to Your Baby's First Year, The Unofficial Guide to Having a Baby, Baby Science and Trying Again: A Guide to Pregnancy After Miscarriage, Stillbirth, and Infant Loss. She is a regular contributor to ePregnancy and WebMD, and has been featured in Parenting, Working Mother, and Good Housekeeping. She is the mother of four children, ages 5 through 14, and can be contacted via her web site http://www.having-a-baby.com/
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Describing Grief..
A student of mine, who has become a dear friend, sent me the following this week, knowing we were sadly experiencing the first anniversary of our son Bobby's death. She lost her husband several years ago and has since remarried; her parents are gone for sometime now, but her children and grandchildren are all healthy.. She has said to me so many times this last year, "I can't imagine how you feel and I pray to God I never know - but I want to understand"... .
Being the dear friend that she is, she continues to read and search for information that might help her understand the depth of what I and other mom's experience in the loss of our children. She has shared countless articles with me hoping they will help me "heal" - she said the following article at least explained somewhat to her the unexplainable, so I thought I would share it with you - it is an article she found in the New York Times, on their Blog called Motherlode that she has been following for several months... Cherie Houston
~ LISA BELKIN New York Times – Motherlode Blog - June 8, 2010, 10:18 am
More than once on Motherlode, grieving parents have written about the inadequacy of language in the face of their loss. There are no words to describe the pain of burying a child, and specifically there is no word to label their new, lifelong status. If you lose a spouse, you are a widow; if you lose a parent, you are an orphan. But what about when you lose a child? How do you name something you cannot comprehend?
Jeffrey Zaslow wrote about this eloquently in The Wall Street Journal several years ago, noting that there are other gaps in the language as well:
Memorial Day, set aside to mourn those who died too young, is a yearly reminder that this grief - the giref of losing a child - has no name. But, she writes:
“The difference between today’s grief and tomorrow’s,” she concludes, “is that now there is a name. Vilomah. A parent whose child has died.”
Being the dear friend that she is, she continues to read and search for information that might help her understand the depth of what I and other mom's experience in the loss of our children. She has shared countless articles with me hoping they will help me "heal" - she said the following article at least explained somewhat to her the unexplainable, so I thought I would share it with you - it is an article she found in the New York Times, on their Blog called Motherlode that she has been following for several months... Cherie Houston
~ LISA BELKIN New York Times – Motherlode Blog - June 8, 2010, 10:18 am
More than once on Motherlode, grieving parents have written about the inadequacy of language in the face of their loss. There are no words to describe the pain of burying a child, and specifically there is no word to label their new, lifelong status. If you lose a spouse, you are a widow; if you lose a parent, you are an orphan. But what about when you lose a child? How do you name something you cannot comprehend?
Jeffrey Zaslow wrote about this eloquently in The Wall Street Journal several years ago, noting that there are other gaps in the language as well:
- The English language has about 450,000 commonly used words, but more may be needed. What to you call someone who has lost a sibling or had a miscarriage? Or a gay person whose partner has died? Or an elderly person who has lost every friend and relative? So many heartaches can’t be found in the dictionary.
- What do you call a mother who has lost her child? If my husband had died, I would be a widow, but what am I now? I was the mother of two sons and two daughters — with another little girl on the way. That’s how I define myself. Now what am I? Without Henry — to whom I have been “mama” as long as I’ve been an adult myself — who am I? Who will I be in the future when the unholy, unbearable pain that now rips and tears at me every waking minute fades into a more chronic, dull, lifetime ache?
- I know that I will be different — forever. Just … different. I can tell you already that losing my child is an experience so profoundly disorienting that I suddenly feel like a Martian among humans. Yes, I have been rerouted to Mars. And there doesn’t appear to be quite enough air up here.
Memorial Day, set aside to mourn those who died too young, is a yearly reminder that this grief - the giref of losing a child - has no name. But, she writes:
- It extends beyond war. We needed a name because of what happened at Columbine and Virginia Tech, for when a child is found beneath the rubble of an earthquake, or for dusty children who starve to death in Darfur. Our numbers grow daily — with drive-bys and carelessness, with genocides, and accidents, and illnesses and suicide. No matter the reason, the cause or the age - our numbers grow daily.
“The difference between today’s grief and tomorrow’s,” she concludes, “is that now there is a name. Vilomah. A parent whose child has died.”
Sunday, September 19, 2010
My Mom is a Survivor
One year ago today, our 36 year old son Bobby, took his own life. Bobby left a loving family - 2 wonderful brothers and 2 step-brothers, 3 sisters-in-law, a very large extended family, more friends than most and his wife Jennifer of 11 years and 2 beautiful little boys only 5 & 6, Why? is a question I'm not sure will ever be answered and even it were, it wouldn't change what has happened.
No matter what the age or circumstances of our beloved children's deaths, the impact & heartbreak is the same and yet we must continue on - we must survive. I believe with all that I am, that each of our children continue to live on through us and with us.. I think if our children could speak about us, this reflects what they might say.. by surviving and making the most of life, we make them proud but they, unlike so many who share our lives, totally understand our broken hearts... Cherie Houston
No matter what the age or circumstances of our beloved children's deaths, the impact & heartbreak is the same and yet we must continue on - we must survive. I believe with all that I am, that each of our children continue to live on through us and with us.. I think if our children could speak about us, this reflects what they might say.. by surviving and making the most of life, we make them proud but they, unlike so many who share our lives, totally understand our broken hearts... Cherie Houston
MY MOM IS A SURVIVOR
~ Kaye Des'Ormeaux
My mom is a survivor,
or so I've heard it said.
But I can hear her crying at night
when all others are in bed.
I watch her lay awake at night
and go to hold her hand.
She doesn't know I'm with her
to help her understand.
But like the sands on the beach
that never wash away...
I watch over my surviving mom,
who thinks of me each day.
She wears a smile for others...
a smile of disguise!
But through Heaven's door
I see tears flowing from her eyes.
My mom tries to cope with death
to keep my memory alive.
But anyone who knows her
knows it's her way to survive.
knows it's her way to survive.
As I watch over my surviving mom
Through Heaven's open door...
I try to tell her that angels
protect me forevermore.
I know that doesn't help her...
or ease the burden she bears.
So if you get a chance, go visit her...
and show her that you care.
For no matter what she says...
no matter what she feels.
My surviving mom has a broken heart
that time won't ever heal.
Friday, September 17, 2010
If I Had My Life to Live Over
I’ve always loved to read and in writing this blog, I’ve mentioned more than once that I’ve lost count of all the books I’ve read since my son Bobby’s death a year ago this week on Sept. 19th, 2009.. I enjoy sharing favorite excerpts with you and this is certainly a favorite. We all know that this journey – the life journey – is one that will end for each of us when it is time. As excited as we will be to see those we’ve loved who have gone before us, I trust that each of us might also be hesitant to leave what is here and those we also love who will remain and will then miss us.
So maybe while we’re here – now - today - in the present – we should enjoy all that is around us and take note from Nadine Star and her thoughts on what she might do differently “If She had Her Life to Live Over”… Enjoy.. Cherie Houston
So maybe while we’re here – now - today - in the present – we should enjoy all that is around us and take note from Nadine Star and her thoughts on what she might do differently “If She had Her Life to Live Over”… Enjoy.. Cherie Houston
IF I HAD MY LIFE TO LIVE OVER..
~ by Nadine Stair (age 85) from Condensed Chicken Soup for the Soul
I'd dare to make more mistakes next time.
I'd relax. I would limber up.
I would be sillier than I have been this trip.
I would take fewer things seriously.
I would take more chances.
I would take more trips.
I would climb more mountains and swim more rivers.
I would eat more ice cream and less beans.
I would perhaps have more actual troubles but I'd
have fewer imaginary ones.
You see, I'm one of those people who live sensibly
and sanely hour after hour, day after day.
Oh, I've had my moments and if I had it to do over
again, I'd have more of them.
In fact, I'd try to have nothing else.
Just moments.
One after another,
instead of living so many years ahead of each day.
I've been one of those people who never go anywhere
without a thermometer, a hot water bottle, a raincoat
and a parachute.
If I had my life to live over, I would start barefoot
earlier in the spring and stay that way later in the fall.
If I had it to do again, I would travel lighter next time.
I would go to more dances.
I would ride more merry-go-rounds.
I would pick more daisies.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
It will never be the same…..
Unrealistically we hope that things will somehow be the same…that our life – our family – will get back to “normal” As time goes on, we realize that “it will never be the same.” We will always miss our loved one who has died. At special holidays and family gatherings, there is always one person missing. Some family members and friends assume that we are back to normal. They just do not understand.
Once the horrific immediate shock and sense of total denial of those first few months after our child has died begin to pass, the enormous and sad reality starts to become painfully clear. For most of us, that is the time that seems the most difficult. Our grief seems unbearable and we wonder if our heartache and sorrow is and will forever be "our new reality". But we have no choice - life does go on . We will and must go through this journey, no matter how painful, it is the price paid for loving someone the way we loved our child.
What seems to complicate our grief is that once those first several months pass, many of those around us – our friends, co-workers and even family members, feel we are or should be “getting better” and “moving on” but we know that’s so far from the truth. For most, we are simply surviving and existing or when we don’t “get over it quickly enough” many people who we assumed would be there for us, pull away out f their own frustration of no knowing how and what to do to help us.
This is so common. It is believed that this can be attributed in part to a general lack of knowledge of what grief is, leading to unrealistic expectations being placed on those who are grieving. Sometimes it is helpful to communicate about our loss with someone new, since some old friends often just want us to return to our old selves again, which is unrealistic on their part.
So many times during the first year of mourning, especially following the holidays or anniversary of the death, those around us, as well as those of us who are grieving, may expect that everything will finally be OK and get better… Be careful not to expect too much; because if and when things don’t magically “get better” many become discouraged. There is and never will be a timetable for grief – it is different for each and every person on this journey and different for each and every time the journey is made…
Be gentle with yourself and those around you.. It’s best not to have unrealistic expectations and remind yourself over and over again, there is no timetable for grief..
Once the horrific immediate shock and sense of total denial of those first few months after our child has died begin to pass, the enormous and sad reality starts to become painfully clear. For most of us, that is the time that seems the most difficult. Our grief seems unbearable and we wonder if our heartache and sorrow is and will forever be "our new reality". But we have no choice - life does go on . We will and must go through this journey, no matter how painful, it is the price paid for loving someone the way we loved our child.
What seems to complicate our grief is that once those first several months pass, many of those around us – our friends, co-workers and even family members, feel we are or should be “getting better” and “moving on” but we know that’s so far from the truth. For most, we are simply surviving and existing or when we don’t “get over it quickly enough” many people who we assumed would be there for us, pull away out f their own frustration of no knowing how and what to do to help us.
This is so common. It is believed that this can be attributed in part to a general lack of knowledge of what grief is, leading to unrealistic expectations being placed on those who are grieving. Sometimes it is helpful to communicate about our loss with someone new, since some old friends often just want us to return to our old selves again, which is unrealistic on their part.
So many times during the first year of mourning, especially following the holidays or anniversary of the death, those around us, as well as those of us who are grieving, may expect that everything will finally be OK and get better… Be careful not to expect too much; because if and when things don’t magically “get better” many become discouraged. There is and never will be a timetable for grief – it is different for each and every person on this journey and different for each and every time the journey is made…
Be gentle with yourself and those around you.. It’s best not to have unrealistic expectations and remind yourself over and over again, there is no timetable for grief..
Monday, September 13, 2010
‘Death is nothing at all…
~ by Henry Scott-Holland, Canon of St. Paul’s - 1847-1913
‘Death is nothing at all…
I have only slipped away into the next room…
I am I and you are you…
whatever we were to each other that we are still.
Call me by my old familiar name,
speak to me in the easy way which you always used.
Put no difference into your tone;
wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.
Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Pray, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was.
Let it be spoken without effect,
without the ghosts of a shadow on it.
Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the as it ever was;
there is absolutely unbroken continuity.
What is this death but a negligible accident?
Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?
I am but waiting for you, for an interval,
somewhere very near just around the corner…
All is well.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
When Grandparents Experience the Death of a Grandchild, Part 2 of 2
~ by Debbie Weir, MADD National Director of Victim Services
Listen to your bereaved child - Bereaved parents need to talk about their child, and they need someone who will listen and not feel uncomfortable. It can be difficult to listen to someone who is ravaged with grief. And often, we can get too preoccupied thinking about what we are going to say to offer comfort. For many people, there is an overwhelming need to alleviate the agony of the grief. The motive is noble but the method is wrong. Rather than doing all the talking, allowing the brokenhearted person to talk can actually go further in helping to heal his or her spirit.
According to Gerner, if you really listen, you’ll understand, and listening is not filling every silence. Listening is the greatest gift you can give your child. If they can’t speak about it directly and choose to communicate by writing letters, emails or other – that’s fine also – just let them speak.
There are times when there are no words, and that’s OK because it’s more important to be there and listen.”
Talk about your grandchild ~ Gerner says that talking about your grandchild tells your child that you care. If tears come, it’s because they’re sad, not because their child’s name was brought up. It can be painful, but talking about the child is healing and therapeutic. You may feel disoriented, but talking can help; talk even though you know there are no answers.
It helps to remember that there is no timetable for grief. Sometimes there are too many expectations regarding how or when someone is grieving. Don’t expect too much of your grieving child, his or her spouse, or yourself. Remember, The hurt is deep, you wonder how you’re going to climb out of it – But you do, and you begin to see your child and yourself start to live again. That’s when you know there is hope with faith.
Consider your needs and those of your bereaved child - A grandparent’s grief may not be recognized by his or her own child or others, but it is definitely there. It is vital for bereaved grandparents to give themselves permission to grieve and to focus on their own needs.
Grandparents often are referred to as “the forgotten grievers.” They think they should cope better, have all the answers, control the situation and be a role model. But these types of expectations are unrealistic and unhealthy.
Survival guilt and anger ~ No one expects to outlive his own children, much less his grandchildren. And, according to Gerner, reactions of guilt and anger often are intermingled. In fact, grandparents often experience survival guilt because it seems unnatural for a grandparent to outlive his or her grandchild, and they often express the wish that they “could change places” with the deceased child.
Hope for a better day - Bereaved grandparents learn to live without their grandchildren, but there always will be the “might have beens.” That is absolutely normal.
Each day, bereaved grandparents look for a little ray of sunshine to show on their bereaved child’s face. As time goes by and the healing process begins, a ray of hope will shine on your child’s face in his or her smile. There always will be a part of each of you that is gone, but in time you can learn to live with the part that is still there.
Read the entire article which was published in “Let Life In” a publication for those of us over 50, on their website November 24th, 2007:
http://www.letlifein.com/2007/11/24/when-grandparents-experience-the-death-of-a-grandchild
Listen to your bereaved child - Bereaved parents need to talk about their child, and they need someone who will listen and not feel uncomfortable. It can be difficult to listen to someone who is ravaged with grief. And often, we can get too preoccupied thinking about what we are going to say to offer comfort. For many people, there is an overwhelming need to alleviate the agony of the grief. The motive is noble but the method is wrong. Rather than doing all the talking, allowing the brokenhearted person to talk can actually go further in helping to heal his or her spirit.
According to Gerner, if you really listen, you’ll understand, and listening is not filling every silence. Listening is the greatest gift you can give your child. If they can’t speak about it directly and choose to communicate by writing letters, emails or other – that’s fine also – just let them speak.
There are times when there are no words, and that’s OK because it’s more important to be there and listen.”
Talk about your grandchild ~ Gerner says that talking about your grandchild tells your child that you care. If tears come, it’s because they’re sad, not because their child’s name was brought up. It can be painful, but talking about the child is healing and therapeutic. You may feel disoriented, but talking can help; talk even though you know there are no answers.
It helps to remember that there is no timetable for grief. Sometimes there are too many expectations regarding how or when someone is grieving. Don’t expect too much of your grieving child, his or her spouse, or yourself. Remember, The hurt is deep, you wonder how you’re going to climb out of it – But you do, and you begin to see your child and yourself start to live again. That’s when you know there is hope with faith.
Consider your needs and those of your bereaved child - A grandparent’s grief may not be recognized by his or her own child or others, but it is definitely there. It is vital for bereaved grandparents to give themselves permission to grieve and to focus on their own needs.
Grandparents often are referred to as “the forgotten grievers.” They think they should cope better, have all the answers, control the situation and be a role model. But these types of expectations are unrealistic and unhealthy.
Survival guilt and anger ~ No one expects to outlive his own children, much less his grandchildren. And, according to Gerner, reactions of guilt and anger often are intermingled. In fact, grandparents often experience survival guilt because it seems unnatural for a grandparent to outlive his or her grandchild, and they often express the wish that they “could change places” with the deceased child.
Hope for a better day - Bereaved grandparents learn to live without their grandchildren, but there always will be the “might have beens.” That is absolutely normal.
Each day, bereaved grandparents look for a little ray of sunshine to show on their bereaved child’s face. As time goes by and the healing process begins, a ray of hope will shine on your child’s face in his or her smile. There always will be a part of each of you that is gone, but in time you can learn to live with the part that is still there.
Read the entire article which was published in “Let Life In” a publication for those of us over 50, on their website November 24th, 2007:
http://www.letlifein.com/2007/11/24/when-grandparents-experience-the-death-of-a-grandchild
Thursday, September 9, 2010
When Grandparents Experience the Death of a Grandchild, Part 1 of 2
~ by Debbie Weir, MADD National Director of Victim Services
When grandparents experience the death of a grandchild, they must grieve even as they help their own children cope with the loss. Cathy Hefflinger and Barb Anderson understand grief. In fact, they understand a particularly debilitating grief many people never consider, few books have been written about and hardly anyone discusses.
It is a sorrow that cuts to the core of one’s being. An upwelling of suffering that brings frustration, helplessness, guilt and anger. It is the death of your child’s child, your grandchild. It’s unbearable because it is two-sided—bringing with it the pain of your grandchild’s death and the innate urge as a parent to protect your own child from the pain of grief.
But grandparents who experience this double-edged grief don’t have to suffer in silence. They can be a tremendous source of strength for their children, while helping themselves along in their own healing journey.
Trying to take away the hurt ~ As a parent, you have an inherent instinct to protect your children from harm and pain. And throughout their lives, you do just that. You kiss away the pain of a scraped knee, wipe away the tears of a broken heart and arm them with love as they venture into the world. But when your child is suddenly facing the pain brought on by the death of his or her child, it can leave you feeling helpless. It is a pain that you, as a parent, cannot fix. And at the same time, it is a pain that you, as a grandparent, are sharing.
Pain from both sides ~ According to Margaret H. Gerner, author of For Bereaved Grandparents, a supportive booklet published by the Centering Corporation, the overwhelming frustration and helplessness bereaved grandparents feel are caused by the knowledge that this is one pain that can’t just be “kissed away.” Bereaved grandparents who watch their once carefree children struggle with sorrow and pain may wonder, “Where is my power now? Where is my bag of tricks that will make it all better?”
According to Gerner, a grandparent’s grief is like a fork with two tines—one representing the loss of a grandchild, the other representing the pain of your own child’s suffering. You must work through your own grief, and, at the same time, help your bereaved child work through his or her grief. The two paths are complicated because you have to deal with them simultaneously.
“I feel that grandparents suffer a double grief,” Cathy says. “Every day is new because you don’t know what to expect. Is Teresa going to have a good day or bad day? Will I focus on her today or will I focus on my grief today?” According to Gerner, as a parent of a grieving child, you have the opportunity to help in ways no one else can—you can make a difference.
Read the entire article which was published in “Let Life In” a publication for those of us over 50 , on their website November 24th, 2007:
http://www.letlifein.com/2007/11/24/when-grandparents-experience-the-death-of-a-grandchild
When grandparents experience the death of a grandchild, they must grieve even as they help their own children cope with the loss. Cathy Hefflinger and Barb Anderson understand grief. In fact, they understand a particularly debilitating grief many people never consider, few books have been written about and hardly anyone discusses.
It is a sorrow that cuts to the core of one’s being. An upwelling of suffering that brings frustration, helplessness, guilt and anger. It is the death of your child’s child, your grandchild. It’s unbearable because it is two-sided—bringing with it the pain of your grandchild’s death and the innate urge as a parent to protect your own child from the pain of grief.
But grandparents who experience this double-edged grief don’t have to suffer in silence. They can be a tremendous source of strength for their children, while helping themselves along in their own healing journey.
Trying to take away the hurt ~ As a parent, you have an inherent instinct to protect your children from harm and pain. And throughout their lives, you do just that. You kiss away the pain of a scraped knee, wipe away the tears of a broken heart and arm them with love as they venture into the world. But when your child is suddenly facing the pain brought on by the death of his or her child, it can leave you feeling helpless. It is a pain that you, as a parent, cannot fix. And at the same time, it is a pain that you, as a grandparent, are sharing.
Pain from both sides ~ According to Margaret H. Gerner, author of For Bereaved Grandparents, a supportive booklet published by the Centering Corporation, the overwhelming frustration and helplessness bereaved grandparents feel are caused by the knowledge that this is one pain that can’t just be “kissed away.” Bereaved grandparents who watch their once carefree children struggle with sorrow and pain may wonder, “Where is my power now? Where is my bag of tricks that will make it all better?”
According to Gerner, a grandparent’s grief is like a fork with two tines—one representing the loss of a grandchild, the other representing the pain of your own child’s suffering. You must work through your own grief, and, at the same time, help your bereaved child work through his or her grief. The two paths are complicated because you have to deal with them simultaneously.
“I feel that grandparents suffer a double grief,” Cathy says. “Every day is new because you don’t know what to expect. Is Teresa going to have a good day or bad day? Will I focus on her today or will I focus on my grief today?” According to Gerner, as a parent of a grieving child, you have the opportunity to help in ways no one else can—you can make a difference.
Read the entire article which was published in “Let Life In” a publication for those of us over 50 , on their website November 24th, 2007:
http://www.letlifein.com/2007/11/24/when-grandparents-experience-the-death-of-a-grandchild
Monday, September 6, 2010
Greater Compassion for Others
Shortly after our son Bobby died in September 2009, one of the moms in our group recommended this wonderful website – GriefShare.org. She recommended signing up for their daily inspirational emails that might help on this journey from mourning to joy – I did and I'm so glad - they have helped and I'm always surprised how they seem to come in at just the right time and touch on so many days it was as though they were directed directly at how or what I was feeling.. I wanted to share this one with you.. Cherie Houston
Greater Compassion for Others ~from GriefShare.org website
It is amazing how grief enables people to relate to one another at a deeper level than before. Until you've experienced grief, you cannot empathize with someone else who is going through it. During your healing process, you may find yourself becoming more sensitive to the hurts and needs of others.
"Sometimes I can't even recognize the person I was before," says Dora, who lost a child. "I think that my ability to empathize or have compassion has been strengthened. I'm not so quick to place judgment on a situation or on a person. What may appear on the outside to be one way, may be a completely different story on the inside."
You know what grief feels like. You know what it's like to disguise your feelings as you go about your daily tasks, keeping a stoic face as you relate to people at work, in the community, or at church.
Use your experience and knowledge of grief to help others. You are the one who realizes that everyone has deep fears and griefs of their own. What act of kindness or compassion will best help those you come in contact with today?
God asks you to follow Jesus' example of kindness, compassion, and forgiveness. Follow His example daily.
"Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you" (Ephesians 4:32). Lord God, let me not make assumptions about the people I meet today; instead, guide me to pass along Your kindness, compassion, and forgiveness. Amen.
For more information or to enroll to receive the daily emails, please visit the following webstie…
http://www.griefshare.org/dailyemails/
Greater Compassion for Others ~from GriefShare.org website
It is amazing how grief enables people to relate to one another at a deeper level than before. Until you've experienced grief, you cannot empathize with someone else who is going through it. During your healing process, you may find yourself becoming more sensitive to the hurts and needs of others.
"Sometimes I can't even recognize the person I was before," says Dora, who lost a child. "I think that my ability to empathize or have compassion has been strengthened. I'm not so quick to place judgment on a situation or on a person. What may appear on the outside to be one way, may be a completely different story on the inside."
You know what grief feels like. You know what it's like to disguise your feelings as you go about your daily tasks, keeping a stoic face as you relate to people at work, in the community, or at church.
Use your experience and knowledge of grief to help others. You are the one who realizes that everyone has deep fears and griefs of their own. What act of kindness or compassion will best help those you come in contact with today?
God asks you to follow Jesus' example of kindness, compassion, and forgiveness. Follow His example daily.
"Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you" (Ephesians 4:32). Lord God, let me not make assumptions about the people I meet today; instead, guide me to pass along Your kindness, compassion, and forgiveness. Amen.
For more information or to enroll to receive the daily emails, please visit the following webstie…
http://www.griefshare.org/dailyemails/
Saturday, September 4, 2010
DO IT YOUR WAY
~ ~ By: Mary Cleckly TCF, Atlanta, GA
I think it’s only fair to tell you-there is no “Bereaved Parent of the Month” award, nor an award for the one with the stiffest upper lip. In fact, what you will find if you try to be the most stoic, brave and strong, the one doing too well, is instead of reward, you suffer the consequences.
It is not possible to lose someone as vital as one’s child and not have the pain of deep grief. You will find a great many non-bereaved people will encourage you to play the old “If you’ll pretend you’re okay and it’s not really so bad, we’ll let you come play with us. But, if you’re going to cry and talk about your dead child, then you can’t play” the game with us anymore.
This is one time in your life you don’t have to meet anybody else’s standards. There is nothing more unique about you than the way you express your grief, and you have that right, however it is manifested.
So, if someone tries to influence you to play the old game, tell them you’re not doing well, that your child has died and you’re hurting. Let them know it doesn’t help you for them to ‘pretend’ everything is okay.
Do whatever it is you need to do to survive this trauma, and don’t worry about whether it pleases or displeases other people..
..Do It YOUR Way.
I think it’s only fair to tell you-there is no “Bereaved Parent of the Month” award, nor an award for the one with the stiffest upper lip. In fact, what you will find if you try to be the most stoic, brave and strong, the one doing too well, is instead of reward, you suffer the consequences.
It is not possible to lose someone as vital as one’s child and not have the pain of deep grief. You will find a great many non-bereaved people will encourage you to play the old “If you’ll pretend you’re okay and it’s not really so bad, we’ll let you come play with us. But, if you’re going to cry and talk about your dead child, then you can’t play” the game with us anymore.
This is one time in your life you don’t have to meet anybody else’s standards. There is nothing more unique about you than the way you express your grief, and you have that right, however it is manifested.
So, if someone tries to influence you to play the old game, tell them you’re not doing well, that your child has died and you’re hurting. Let them know it doesn’t help you for them to ‘pretend’ everything is okay.
Do whatever it is you need to do to survive this trauma, and don’t worry about whether it pleases or displeases other people..
..Do It YOUR Way.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
"The Oak Tree"
A Message of Encouragement to all moms who have and continue to endure the dark storm clouds that come with losing a child......
Joyce received this poem from her niece prior to her breast cancer surgery and treatments which began this past March 2010. Joyce's daughter Donna shared it with everyone on Joyce’s “Caring Bridge” Blog this summer and I in turn wanted to share it with everyone as autumn and the first anniversary of my son Bobby’s death approaches…
Joyce received this poem from her niece prior to her breast cancer surgery and treatments which began this past March 2010. Joyce's daughter Donna shared it with everyone on Joyce’s “Caring Bridge” Blog this summer and I in turn wanted to share it with everyone as autumn and the first anniversary of my son Bobby’s death approaches…
"The Oak Tree"
by Johnny Ray Ryder Jr.........
A mighty wind blew night and day.
It stole the oak tree's leaves away,
Then snapped its boughs and pulled its bark
Until the oak was tired and stark.
But still the oak tree held its ground
While other trees fell all around.
The weary wind gave up and spoke,
"How can you still be standing, Oak?"
The oak tree said, "I know that you
Can break each branch of mine in two,
Carry every leaf away,
Shake my limbs, and make me sway.
But I have roots stretched in the earth,
Growing stronger since my birth.
You'll never touch them, for you see...
They are the deepest part of me.
Until today, I wasn't sure
Of just how much I could endure....
But now I've found, with thanks to you..
I'm stronger than I ever knew."
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