Sweet Dreams

~ Author Unknown, but dedicated to her daughter Rachel

SWEET DREAMS

Last night I held you in my dream

And rocked you in my arms.

I sang to you a lullaby

As we snuggled to keep warm.

It felt so natural and real,

That when I was awakened,

I rushed to be with you, my child,

But knew I was mistaken.

Your life was ended way too soon;

As if it had just started.

Somehow I know I must go on,

Although we’ve sadly parted.

Your pain and suffering is no more;

Your soul’s found peace at last.

Someday I hope to join you and

Live our dreams of past.

THE BOAT

I've heard this :story: several times since I joined our Moms Bereavement group in November 2009, shortly after the death of my son Bob who had ceelbrated his 36th birthday just a few weeks before with his wife, 2 little boys andmy husband and I...  To this day it continues to remind me of the different phases of our journey and whether we are grabbing someones hand to help pull us into the boat or we are extending our hands to someone who needs help - it emphasizes again the critical importance of surrounding ourselves on this journey with others who understand, who will listen to our pain, to our stories... no matter how long it's been since the death of our children, we all need "a hand to get into the boat" and catch our breath...  I can't say thank you enough to the many hands who have helped keep me afloat through the years... and I hope in turn my hand has helped someone else.....Cherie Houston

~ by Samantha Adams, BP, Australia, in loving memory of her son, James

THE BOAT

When we lose our children, we begin a journey. It starts on a stream and each one of us gets into a boat. At first, the river is too fast and unfamiliar. We have no strength to put in the oars, but gradually we learn to row. Sometimes the current is too strong and we drift downstream again.
torrents, overcome and continue on our journey.

At times, it seems so hard– others gain courage to go on. We can look back and see others just getting in the boat and help them too, always there is someone to help us row. We are never alone in our river of tears.

And some day, when we’ve rowed and rowed, we will reach a dock and there will be our children to greet us. They will help us ashore and tell us they knew we could do it. We owe it to our children to be the best people we can.

Our children have always known that we strived to be the best people we could be.  They know they had wonderful parents, parents who loved them and still do.    Yes, we are left behind - but by living the best life we can we honor their memory.. 

So keep rowing on that river of life, and know that your child or children are always there with you.

Never Forgotten

I love this story, because it reminds me that it healthy to ensure that our children who have gone before us are not forgotten.  Yes, it's OK to remember them and speak their name and share their stories - it's up to us be sure they are remembered..  

Most of us never hesitate to talk about our children and or grandchildren who are thriving, so why are we hesitant to speak of our "angel children" those who are no longer here...  And for me personally, I choose  to focus on, remember and speak of their lives, no matter how short, not how they died...     

~ by Vicki Tushingham~

I recently had an experience that touched my heart and I want to share it with you. 

I have a new job as General Manager of a private tennis club.  My first week at the club, I met a member known to all as “Old Bill.”  Bill is 92 years old and perfectly independent and active.  He comes to the club most every Friday, enjoys lunch and, weather permitting, a game of tennis.  “Old Bill” likes to talk, and we became fast friends.  He told me how he had lost his wife a few years back and how he misses her, particularly so, he said, because it was just the two of them.  Bill then went on to tell me that he and his wife had lost their only child when she was 8 ½ years old.  He asked if the story was boring me;  I assured him it was not, because I too, had lost my only child. 

Bill then sat down and told me the story of his little Shirley’s life and death, just as we all tell our stories at support group meetings.  He had the same need to tell it again as we all do.  But he told it with pride and joy blended with the sorrow of his loss.  “She was a beauty,” he said, “and bright as a button.”  If she had lived, she would be 70 years old today; she’s been gone 62 years.  In turn, I told him of my Sandy.

Though I cried for Bill’s loss of Shirley as I do for all of us, I was comforted by the confirmation that, while decades pass, our children are never forgotten.  I’ll now know of a little girl named Shirley, who will always be loved and never forgotten by her dad, and as I pass this story along, you too will know “Old Bill’s Little Shirley.”

Each grief journey is unique

~ by Cherie Houston

Today I remember my son Ric and his twin sister Randee Marie, who were born 41 years ago yesterday, March 16th, 1971... Yesterday Ric celebrated his 41st birthday - he is a wonderful husband, father, son and loved more than he knows... Today, 41 years ago, Ric's baby twin sister, Randee Marie died March 17, 1971 - they were born very premature - 12 weeks, so it was a miracle that Ric survived, but he thrived and is now a dad to 2 wonderful children of his own..  Life is amazing and we never know what's in store, because as I remember my beloved daughter today, I also celebrate the birthday of Ric's youngestr child, his little girl "Randee Marie" - yes RandeeMarie was born March 17th, 2003 - 32 years to the day that her name sake, her dad's twin died... There's no doubt, despite the sadness, life certainly can be incredible....

No matter who or what we are – male, female, young or old, rich or poor , despite our race, ethnicity or religion, throughout our lifetime, we will each be impacted by overwhelming & devastating loss, it will sadly happen more times than we’d like to imagine, and that is simply the reality of living and loving ..

During each of these journeys, as we adjust to the death of someone we truly and deeply loved, we will realize that this isn’t a task or skill that we can simply master so that it will be easier in the future. No, grief is simply something we warily learn to adjust to and live with and we must face the reality that each loss is and will also be unique.

Another reality is that as the months and years go by on this journey of grief, each of us must and will find our own way of dealing with the pain and the daily challenges that are a result of our grief journeys.. Yes, in time, the heartbreak will begin to heal and further into our journey, we will even learn to find peace and joy, but despite what others may tell us, there will never be a return to the normal that existed before that loved one died. No, despite all the clichés about "time heals all", our hearts will never be the same as they were before, they will forever be very different.

Personally, I think that a result of the harsh reality of this grief journey, that as our hearts heal, in some respects they become softer, more compassionate and bruise more easily… But, they also grow – they get stronger allowing us to face those bruises and challenges that we thought impossible and as our hearts change, they actually allow for more love than we ever thought possible. Yes our hearts and minds will change, and we have to be willing to accept those changes..
Sorry - there is no cure for this “affliction” we call grief, we can't simply walk & raise money and erase this journey.. The path we take during this journey will be different for us all, and sadly enough we will all make this journey several times during our lives for parents, siblings, friends and for all too many of us, it will be a grief journey for our children who go before us... but each and every one of these journeys will be unlike the other. No, no two journeys will be same, each and every time we make this journey it will be different from the last, they are each unique. Reality is, that grief is not a learned skill, no matter how many times we make the journey, we can never fine tune it and become prepared, so that the next time, and yes there will be a next time, there is no way to complete the task of “grieving” and getting thru it more quickly…
For me, each and every time I’ve made this journey I’ve realized I must be patient with myself. It is so hard for others to comprehend what this horrible loss and the resulting grief journey feels like... When I've tried to describe how I feel to others, I liken this grief journey and learning to cope with the deaths of my 3 children, as to having woken up one day, all alone in the middle of a foreign country - no idea how I got there.. Not only am I alone (yes I have family but they are far away in their own reality), but here, I don't know my way around, I don't know the terrain so I can't prepare for the struggle of climbing the rugged mountains that lay ahead or sliding down the slipperly slopes; I don't know or understand the language so I find it so difficult to communicate even my basic of needs to those around me...
But despite being dropped in this foreign land, I also know that I can't simply stand still. No, instead, each day I must force myself to move forward just a step or two. I have to learn another word or two, so others can hear and understand me… Eventually, I will learn to accept that this is where I now live, there is no going back and it will never be the same. No I will never be who I was before each of my children died. But in time, and with patience, I will learn the terrain, recognize the intersections and begin to understand the language…

Be patient –don’t rush the journey – because if you do, most find that it will become more difficult and complicated in time. So go easy – tread lightly – it takes time to become acquainted with your new and unfamiliar surroundings, but in time, you will and you will learn to smile when you look back.
So remember and take heart, that despite the overwhelming heartache we experience on the grief journey, that life is wonderful and despite it all, it's better to have loved & lost than to have never loved at all...  There's no doubt, despite the heartaches, life certainly is amazing...

Cherie Houston ~ In Loving Memory of my angel baby, Randee Marie Wood  March 16-17, 1971

Believe

~ by Betty Stevens

BELIEVE

Crocuses poke their heads through the crusty snow

To let us know the long, bleak winter is ending

And Spring will come again.

So, too, the long bleak winter of your

aching, breaking heart will end and

Spring will come again one day.

Be patient ~ but believe it~

Your Spring will come again. 

In the Springtime of Your Grief

~ by Judi Fischer, TCF, Cleveland, Ohio

Spring has fragile beginnings; a tiny shoot of green that emerges from the cold earth, a hint of pastel against the brownish grass, a bud that awakens with the morning sun. Sometimes spring comes so quietly we almost miss it, but once it begins, it is impossible to ignore the daily growth and change. The morning sun brings sounds that were not there before. The breeze carries warmth that invites us to venture outside of ourselves. A promise is released with the budding and blossoming surrounding us. Hope emerges for the beginning of a new season; change is in the air.

What we experience in the springtime of the year is what we can experience in the spring-time of our grief. There begins to be a growing radiance. The radiance is not just around us; it is within us. A gradual warming of the heart silences the chill of intense pain. The natural unfolding of the grief process moves gently to remind us that we will survive. Life is changing and growth emerges through the changes. The song of our hearts that seemed off key begins to experience a harmonious blend of the past and the present. The songs of the birds invite us to join them in a celebration of a new life. In the springtime of our grief, there can be a new song for us to sing. It will be a song we composed through the heart-ache of loss.

Optimism for a better day may awaken us one morning. Hearing laughter and discovering it is coming from within ourselves gives us promise for today. Dreams and hopes for a better tomorrow shine brightly with the morning sun. Surviving the winter of our grief with the openness to embrace change is a decision to embrace loss and integrate its impact into the fabric of our lives. It can be a willingness to explore new possibilities that create a different landscape to behold.

We can make a decision that we will begin to appreciate what we still have, not just focus on what is missing. We will know when we have made that decision. Something buds; something opens. The harshness of winter is softened with new life and new growth. It is not something we can force; it is something that unfolds when the time is right.

The springtime of grief arrives with no dramatic entrance, no flashing lights. The stillness of the beauty unfolds and captures our attention. It is happening around us, but it is also happening in us.

If spring has already crossed the path of your personal journey of grief, rejoice! But, if the chill of winter remains in your heart, be encouraged; spring is on its way. Look for it, expect it and it will be yours to experience around you and in you!

REFLECTIONS ON MARCH

~ Dayton Robinson, Tuscalossa, AL

March is a month of renewal. The dormant trees begin to stir, the birds optimistically sing of Spring; the winds, sometimes violent, wake us up; perhaps we need a “shake” out of our winter lethargy; an awakening. 
There is that urge to plant, to nourish, to grow a tree or a flower. There is the primordial urge to feel your hand digging in the warming earth. Perhaps we plant because we know that someone will see the results, as we have enjoyed the results of others’ work. It could be called a debt of renewal, a repayment for that which we have enjoyed. As we nourish small seedlings, we visualize the end results. That tree may die, as our children did. That tree may flourish beautifully, or it may meet ultimate disaster, but if that tree does well, it could be a source of great pleasure and of beauty for many coming years. We can believe that a seedling will be a glorious tree enjoyed by many. It’s a nice dream.
“To all things there is a season” and as life goes by, we simply cannot afford to miss the season, the renewals, the chances for new growth. Regardless of our grief’s and regrets, life goes on, and we must try not to miss a season. Life simply will be, whether we participate or not. Someone will benefit from constructive growth, if we can find the energy to make the effort.
Severe grief, for a time, reduces our interest and our ability to participate fully in life. With a low energy level and little initiative and with our hopes for the future severely damaged, it requires great effort for the bereaved to learn to again enjoy the small things that make up most of our lives. Our hopes for the future are so damaged that there is little incentive to work today for the future. The things that exist today comprise the basics of our future. We run a risk and a danger of missing the good things that are to be, because we do not have the wish to participate in the things that are today.
Although we need a time of some withdrawal, some time to ponder the unanswered questions, some time to heal, we also need to be aware of the lives that are passing. Regardless of our grief, life simply goes on, and there is much good that we risk losing if we stay too long in a state of suspense of the present and a sad review of the past.

A part of learning to “accept the unacceptable” is to learn to make the effort to sort out the good memories and take them with us into a future that will be happy again.
There comes a time when the harsh winter of our damaging grief will give way to some awakening, a time when we, like nature, can shake off some of the lethargy and see and feel the renewals life offers. Our choice is to remember that we could not control the advent of disaster. We can only control our response. Our choice is now only in the way in which we respond to the necessity to pick up the threads of our life and go on.
We owe it to ourselves to make a positive effort. We can hope that those buffeting winds of March can help us awaken to the renewals of Spring and put the “winter of our disaster” in its place, now a part of our ongoing lives.

Kite Memories

KITE MEMORIES

~ Marcia Alig, TCF/NJ

Brushed golden by the sun

A kite flies free above greening meadow,

Drifting lazily until it turns to catch the eddy of

A flock of trumpeting geese homeward bound.

Fragrance of early Spring flowers

Makes me giddy with the thought

That You too fly unfettered to drift or chase dreams,

Dreams beyond imagination,

Unrestrained by life or expectations.

Now I cherish each kite that rises to the wind

Because it fills me with memories,

Memories of your gifts of love.

BUT….only sometimes…..

I wonder whether you remember, too.