The first years of this grief journey...

The death of a child - a child at any age - is such a traumatic, life-altering experience.   At first, you can't even comprehend the facts, no matter how hard you try to absorb them - your heart isn't ready...  It's not denial, because in those initial hours, days and weeks, denial isn't even possible yet because you truly can't comprehend what has and is happening around you.....  


In the days, weeks and months to follow, ever so slowly you allow yourself to relive those initial moments over and over again - each time allowing yourself to "stay in those initial moments - just a little longer"..  Initially it's as though we are dreaming and if we can just dream a little longer we can change the outcome...  With time, we stay there a little longer trying to absorb our surroundings and what we are hearing - eventually we stay there as long as we do, not wanting to let go - for fear if we accept what we are being told - we will begin to let go of them and all that they were to us...  I think all of these moments are simply a way of our brain "bracing us" for the horrible truth & facts, yes our brain fortunately will only allow it in, in very small doses, bits and pieces at a time..  


The first year after my 3 children died I think we are always preparing for the next "first" very much like a new parent - only these firsts are all so frightening...  Those "first" holidays - birthdays, anniversaries, milestones.. And then of course all the every day things that can knock the wind out of us as though we've been punched! The pictures, songs, foods, smells, opening of closets & bureau drawers or even the door to their room or home, all of the simplest of things that we will eventually recognize and call "grief triggers" - those things that can catapult us without any warning back into the depths of that black hole...  Finally, just as we begin to prepare ourselves for the first anniversary of our child going home to heaven, to earning their wings, yes, it's 365 days later and so many of us have this misconception that we will finally begin to feel just a little better, and then we realize - we won't..  Not yet - we still have a long way to go on the journey..

Although we will feel different as we move forward on the journey, because thankfully the depths of our grief will never return to those initial dark hours, days, weeks and months...  But understand, that grief is a journey and the first year is simply the worst and most frightening part of the journey...  But as time goes on, accept that this journey will continue.  Differently of course, but it does continue...  

Many moms who've traveled this journey before will softly warn "newly bereaved moms" not to be surprised if the second and third year of grief are actually more intense in a different way,  than that first year. It is different - because again remember when we look back on that first year it so often feels like a bad dream, a total foggy blur..  Even for moms and dads who returned to work soon after, when they look back later - most remember very little about that first year - our brains never allow us to relive excruciating pain of any kind - and the heartbreak of losing a child is the most excruciating pain we will ever endure... Furthermore, we can't imagine how we made it through, but we did!! 

In the second and subsequent years, the reality really sets in with a piercing, almost "stop your breath" intensity. Be prepared - this is normal - no you aren't going crazy - your heart is continuing to heal, it just takes time..  This pain of grief is simply the price we pay for loving our children as much as we do...  


Continue to be patient, loving and gentle with yourself as you stay the course and continue on your unique journey - it is a journey from mourning to joy and yes, eventually you will find peace and joy and a new normal that works for you....  In the meantime, know that you are in the thoughts and prayers of all your sisters in grief..  ~ Cherie Houston

Memorial Day and Gold Star Moms....

~ by Cherie Houston

Yes today is Memorial Day… a day when we remember fallen soldiers, but I also like to ask you to remember all of their moms...I know that throughout the US, typically it is the last Sunday in September (not today) that our nation pays special tribute to all the brave and loving moms of our fallen heroes – Mom’s who have painfully earned the tile of Gold Star Moms… but I think they deserve our thanks every day...

Yes for Gold Star Moms, this additional title, is one they never wanted yet despite their prayers, and although it’s not September – I feel strongly that they are owed our loving thoughts and heart felt prayers as we remember the sacrifices they and their families have made, hearts broken and the lives of their children that were given..   I hope you will join me in prayer, that she find comfort and peace and know that what her child has given is remembered and they are honored by us all…

So as we salute the flag on this Memorial Day and remember our owned beloved children, say an extra prayer for all the moms who are worried sick about their children serving in the military as well as for those moms whose children gave the ultimate sacrifice – our Gold Star Moms - Thank you and my God be with you and your families…

And today I want to offer a special thank you to Gold Star Mom, Dorothy Schafenocker whose son Mike Schafernocker was a Crew Chief And Door Gunner On A UH 1 B Helicopter With The U. S. Navy "Seawolves" and actually wrote the following poem Wrote The following poem Just Before He Died on April 28^th, 1969 When His Chopper Was Shot Down Over Cambodia... Where He And His Pilot And Co-Pilot Were Actually Buried For 8 Months.  Mike was born Feb. 28^th, 1949..

Look God

~ by Mike Schafernocker

Look God, I Have Never Spoken To You
But Now I Want To Say "How Do You Do"
You See God, They Told Me You Did Not Exist
And, Like A Fool, I Believed All Of This

Last Night From A Shell Hole, I Saw Your Sky
I Figured Right Then, They Had Told Me A Lie
Had I Taken The Time, To See The Things You Made
I Would Know They Weren't Calling, A Spade A Spade

I Wonder, God, If You Would Shake My Hand
Somehow, I Feel, That You Will Understand
Strange, I Had To Come, To This Hellish Place
Before I Had Time To See Your Face

Well, I Guess There Isn't, Much More To Say
But I Am Glad, God, I Met You Today
I Guess The Zero Hour, Will Soon Be Here
But I Am Not Afraid, Since I Know You Are Near

The Signal - Well, God, I Will Have To Go
I Love You Lots', This I Want You To Know
Looks Like This Will Be A Horrible Fight
Who Knows, I May Come To Your House Tonight

Though I Wasn't Friendly With You Before
I Wonder, God If You Would Wait At The Door
Look I Am Crying, Me Shedding Tears!!
I Wish I Had Known You, These Many Years

Well, I Will Have To Go Now, God, Goodbye
Strange, Since I Met You I Am Not Afraid To Die
Shades Of Laughter... Shades Of Love
Circling All Of Us... With Arms Of Love

Don't Cry Momma... I Love You Still
I Always Have And I Always Will
When You Cross The Big Divide
I Promise... I'll Be The First One By Your Side!

Copyright © 1968-2012 
~ by Mike Schafernocker, Used With Permission Of Mike's Mom Dorothy

As we begin this Memorial Day Weekend - remembering those who are no longer with us, irregardless of their age or circumstances of how they left this world - is a national tradition. For those of us who are parents, who have lost precious children, we obviously don't need a certain day to this, we do it each and every day...   But as you remember - I hope that this poem will help to remind you that they are safe and we are so blessed to have them in our lives... Love and hugs to you and yours on this Memorial Day Weekend from our family to yours... Cherie Houston 

Parents

~ By Edgar A. Guest

"I'll lend you for a little time
A child of Mine," He said,
"For you to love the while he lives
And mourn for when he is dead.

It may be six or seven years,
Or twenty two or fifty three;
But will you, 'til I call him back,
Take care of him for Me?

He'll bring his charms to gladden you,
And should his stay be brief,
You'll have his loving memories
As solace for your grief.

I cannot promise he will stay,
Since all from earth return,
But there are lessons taught down there
I want this child to learn.

I've looked the wide world over
In My search for teachers true,
And from all the throngs that crowd
Life's lanes I've selected you.

Now will you give him all your love,
Not think the labor vain,
Nor hate Me when I come to call
To take him back again?"

I fancied that I heard them say,
"Dear Lord, Thy will be done."
For all the joy Thy child shall bring,
The risk of grief we'll run.

We'll shelter him with tenderness,
We'll love him while we may,
And for the happiness we've known,
Forever grateful stay;

But should the angels call for him

Sooner than we've planned

We'll brave the bitter grief

That comes and try to understand."

A Bend in the Road

~ Author Unknown

“In the book “A Bend in the Road,” David Jeremiah writes “When you’ve walked through the fire, people begin to listen to you.  When you have wisdom borne of suffering you begin to have the tools to accomplish something in the world.” 

I saw this first hand when a friend of my husband lost his two year old son.  He could not wait to talk to my husband.  He searched Don out at the funeral and could not get to my husband fast enough.

He grabbed Don and broke down in his arms.  I think just Don’s presence comforted him.  When he asked Don how he was going to go on, Don told him there was only one way. He listened while Don explained to him about the love of God and how HE has carried us through our own trial. I believe the death of our children has given us a freedom to speak to others about our faith and they also tend to listen to us in a more expecting way.  We have been through the fire.  We have the opportunity and the responsibility to reach out and comfort others..  

Beyond a shadow of a doubt, there have been gifts given me from my child.  Gifts like NO other.  Little nuggets of truth, of heroism, of the purest love I have ever known.  Purified by fire, I guess. LIKE GOLD. 

There is NO gold purer or more precious than this….and yet sometimes it is so bright that it burns our inner eyes and brings tears and pain to the body and soul.  Bright as the sun it emits a power that can heal us and also burn us…yet we hold it tightly in our hearts.

We who have this gold…..are blessed….and cursed….the love, the gifts, the loss, the pain, and yet there is no power in heaven or on earth that can take it away from us….nor would we let them.

Today I’m encouraging those of you who can…..to make your grief into a GOLDEN FIRE……to reach out and embrace another who is hurting.  In the reaching out to another, your own HEALING will and CAN begin.

“There will come a time when you believe everything is finished. That will be the beginning.”   ………Louis L’Armour

Death of a Child: ‘Unfinished Motherhood’

Thanks to Paula Sutton from Schenectady, New York for sending this to us to share on our blog – Paula is Grandma to her baby angel “Suzanne” who, at 4 months, went home to heaven last April 2011..  And she continually reminds her daughter, Daria, that yes – she is still and always will be a mom…

Death of a Child: ‘Unfinished Motherhood’

~ By Clara Hinton

When a child dies, a mother goes through a difficult time of emotional turmoil and questioning. “Am I still a mother?” “Does my child still have a birthday each year, or does time stand still?” “Can the mother/child relationship continue to grow, or am I now an ‘unfinished mother’?”

Losing a child often places a mother on a road that begins a lonelier journey than ever expected-one that can never really be explained. There was a beginning, but with the death of the child, there is no middle and no end. Everything seems so unfinished. Hopes and dreams were stopped far too soon. Joy was snatched away so suddenly. A mother is left with empty arms and an empty heart. Nothing can ever be complete when a child’s life ends.

When the death of a child occurs, a mother may suddenly feel inadequate and incomplete. She wears a new name. She may feel an “unfinished mother,” never being able to see the rest of the picture. She will never be able to watch her child mature into a young adult. She will never be able to see all the pieces fit together. The picture will always have part of the scenery missing. It is so painful to be an unfinished mother! Child loss makes everything seem so empty and incomplete.

There will come a critical point in this journey of grief when a mother must reach deep into her inner resources and make a conscious decision to accept herself just as she is-a mother whose heart has been touched by the pain and grief of child-loss. Only then can she start to put together some of the broken pieces and begin to feel like there will be a day when she will feel more like a complete mother than an unfinished mother.

A mother is never “unfinished.” No matter how brief her time was with her child, the bond of love between mother and child was complete. A mother’s love for her child is unending. Dreams may shatter and circumstances may change, but a mother’s love remains strong. As a mother travels the path to healing, it is important for her to remind herself often that she is a mother forever. Her motherhood did not stop when her child died.

This understanding of motherhood releases the feelings of guilt and failure and allows a mother to begin to see herself as a whole person again-a complete mother.

A mother is never an “unfinished mother.” A mother’s love runs far too deep for that! 

Grandparents - So often forgotten

Thank you to Shana McLaughlin from Louisiana who is a grandmother of 2 angel grandbabies – Lilly who was only 6 when she died in an auto accident in 1991 and Jeremy was only 31, a young father of 3 year old twins, when he took his own life in November 2011.  Shana was given this shortly after Jeremy died and hopes that it will help another grandparent the way it has helped her and her husband.  I totally agree that grandparents, like siblings can often be forgotten when a child in the family dies, so many thanks for sharing…  Cherie Houston 

Forgotten Grief:

Grandparents are often forgotten because attention and grief are focused on the parents of the child. Grandparents grieving the loss of a grandchild feel a double-edged kind of pain. They feel the pain of not being able to make things better for their own child coupled with the pain of losing a family member. Grief can be complicated, and a grandparent may not feel as if they are allowed to grieve openly.
It's vital that grandparents allow themselves the opportunity to grieve - even if it has to be privately - to allow themselves to process the loss. Take the time and process the loss while focusing on yourself. You're not going to be any help to anyone if you don't allow yourself the opportunity to grieve. And remember, there is no timetable on grief and everyone grieves differently.
Whether your grandchild dies from an infection, is stillborn or a miscarriage, SUDC (Sudden Unexplained Death of a Child), cancer, an accident, took their own life o some other tragedy - the end result is the same: grief, questions, pain, emptiness, and often guilt – and the feeling of a limb being missing, because, well, it is missing.

Survivor's Guilt:

No one ever expects to outlive their own children. It's unnatural to bury a child. As a grandparent, you may feel full of guilt, remorse, and misplaced anger because you have survived while your grandchild has not.
Often, grandparents wish they could change places with the child who has died.
Grandparents may feel haunted by unanswerable questions: "Why didn't I spend more time with the child?" "Why am I alive while my grandchild is dead?"
Grief-stricken grandparents must learn to live their lives but always be haunted by the might-have-beens.
While these feelings come along with the new normal, each day can also bring hope and healing to the bereaved grandparent and their child.

Ways to Process this Tragedy:

·         Don't feel like you have always to be the strong one. It's perfectly fine for you to be sad and show that you're sad.

·         Go through the grief process. It's essential that you process this grief in order to be able to hold up your child.

·         Talk about the grandchild. Remember that you're not going to remind your child of the child they lost. They want you to talk about them. They want people to remember that they existed.

·         Remember that watching your child grieve and long for their child is going to be hard. Your remembering the birthdays and anniversaries of the child's death is going to help them heal over time. And by helping them heal, you will begin to heal. You want to fix them, but since you can't, helping them move through their life without their child is the next best thing.

·         Listen to your child. You cannot heal the pain they're going through, but you can be a shoulder to lean on, someone to wipe their eyes. It may be hard to hear their complicated grief, but they will need you.

Another tribute for all you moms...

I know it's the day after Mother's Day - but now that the anticipation is over - and we've made it through this difficult holiday, I have one more tribute to each and everyone of you...

Personally I've always believed that this was written by all of our angel children in heaven as a thank you to each of us "their moms for mother's day" who wanted to be sure they covered each and every aspect of what we were to them, as we continue on our journey without them (physically) - but no doubt they will always be beside us and in our hearts... with love & hugs as you tearfully enjoy this tribute to YOU - your child's mom...  Cherie Houston

FOR ALL YOU MOMS OUT THERE!

This is for all the Mothers who have sat up all night with sick toddlers in their arms, wiping up barf laced with Oscar Mayer wieners and Kool-Aid saying, “It’s OK honey, Mommy’s here.”

Who walk around the house all night with their babies when they keep crying and won’t stop.

This is for all the Mothers who show up at work with spit-up in their hair and milk stains on their blouses and diapers in their purse.

For all the Mothers who run carpools and make cookies and sew Halloween costumes.

And for all the Mothers who DON’T.

This is for the Mothers who gave birth to babies they will never see.

And the Mothers who took those babies and gave them homes. 

This is for all the Mothers who froze their buns off on metal bleachers at football or soccer games Friday night instead of watching from cars, so that when their kids asked, “Did you see me?”  they could say, “Of  course, I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” and mean it.

This for all the Mothers who yell at their kids in the grocery store and swat them in despair when they stomp their feet like a tired 2-year old who wants ice cream before dinner.

them they’d be just FINE once they got there, only to get calls from the school nurse an hour later asking them to please pick them up.  RIGHT AWAY!

This is for Mothers whose children have gone astray,  and who can’t find the words to reach them.

For all the Mothers who bite their lips……. sometimes until they bleed - when their 14 year olds dye their hair green.

What makes a good Mother anyway?

Is it Patience?

This is for all the Mothers who sat down with their children and explained all about making babies.

And for all the Mothers who wanted to…….but just couldn’t.

For all the Mothers who read “Goodnight, Moon” twice a night for a year. And then read it again, “Just one more time.”

This if for all the Mothers who taught their children to tie their shoelaces before they started school.

And for all the Mothers who opted for Velcro instead.

This is for all the Mothers who teach their sons to cook and their daughters to sink a jump shot.

This is for all Mothers whose heads turn automatically when a little voice calls “MOM?” in a crowd, even though they know their own children are at home.

This is for all the Mothers who sent their kids to school with stomach aches, assuring them they’d be just FINE once they got there, only to get calls from the school nurse an hour later asking them to please pick them up.  RIGHT AWAY!

This is for Mothers whose children have gone astray,  and who can’t find the words to reach them.

For all the Mothers who bite their lips……. sometimes until they bleed - when their 14 year olds dye their hair green.

What makes a good Mother anyway?

Is it Patience?

Is it Compassion?

Broad hips?

The ability to nurse a baby, cook dinner, and sew a button on a shirt, all at the same time?

Or is it  heart?

Is it the ache you feel when you watch your son or daughter disappear down the street, walking to school alone for the very first time?

OR the jolt that takes you from sleep to dread, from bed to crib at 2 A.M. to put your hand on the back of a sleeping baby?

Is it the need to flee from wherever you are and hug your child when you hear news of a fire, a car accident, or a child dying?

For all the Mothers of the survivors, and the Mothers who sat in front of their TV’s  in horror, hugging their child who just came home from school, safely.

This is for Mothers who put pinwheels and teddy bears on the children’s graves.

This is for young Mothers stumbling through diaper changes and sleep deprivation.

And mature Mothers learning to ‘Let Go.’

For Mothers-To-Be

For working Mothers…..

For stay-at-home Mothers……..

For Single Mothers

and  for married Mothers…….

Mothers with money, 

Mothers without…………

For Mothers who grieve for their children have gone before them……

And for all the mothers of the world… This is for each one of us……as we travel this journey….. Together…

HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY

To My Mother, Happy Mother’s Day

Thank you to Barbara Bentran from Newcastle, Wyoming for sending this poem to us for Mothers Day. She said she received this poem a few years ago from a co-worker of her husbands on Mother's Day in memory of their daughter "Cheyenne" who became an angel on Nov. 10th 2006 when she was 2 months old.

To My Mother, Happy Mother’s Day

 ~ by Dawn Mitchell 1998

I see you each time

you shed a tear

I catch it and kiss you

I hope you know that I'm near

This place is so beautiful

There's so much to see!

I know that someday

You'll be here with me.

The angels were singing

When I arrived!

Jesus was there

With His arms open wide!

The snow and the rain

Are just my confetti.

I know you'll be coming

And I want to be ready.

When you feel the wind

It's me walking by

I can run and skip now

I can even fly!

When the blossoms and leaves

Fall into your hair

It's me planting kisses

Yes, I put them there!

The birds are singing

To keep you company

They're especially for you

With love from me.

I know that you miss me

And feel so alone

Until the great day

When you finally come home

Please remember this mom

As seasons change from one to another

I'll always love you

You're my friend and my mother

Can we ever "Move Forward" after our child dies?

Did you know that it is estimated that each year in the United States one million parents will lose a child? 


I just heard this statistic when Jeannete Sevard, from Taos, New Mexico sent me this story she received to pass on to her niece who just recently lost a young child of only 5 yrs.…  Jeannete said when she was recently searching the internet for more information she might be able to use to help her niece who is still almost inconsolable when she came across our blog.  Jeannete hoped we might be able to share this with our moms in time for mother’s day, and yes I am able to do that – so thank you Jeannete and our thoughts and prayers are with your niece and your families, but with an aunt like you for support, I’m confident she will find her way on this journey to joy again..  Cherie Houston

 

“Moving Forward” After the Death of a Child ~ by Maria Malin

I’ve often wondered what the recipe included when mothers were created. Part superhero, part superhuman, “moms” surely have many ingredients: one wrist that can test the temperature of baby formula, three measures of skinned knee fixability, two cups of tear catching, zero sick days, little nightly sleep, a dash of fever-gauging with a kiss on the forehead, many heaping tablespoons of patience, endless pickups, drop-offs, and grocery lists, and several thousand sack lunches and dinners. Topped with the wave of one giant problem-solving wand sprinkled with magic glitter from up above, a mom is born. Mothers have strength beyond muscle, wisdom beyond intellect, magic beyond wands.

Until a mother loses a child.

I wasn’t superhuman or a superhero on April 19, 2003, when my 11-year-old son Steven Brian Malin, Jr., was struck and killed by a cross train down the block from our home in Lake Forest, Illinois. Our only son, wedged between two dancing, soccer-playing sisters, was simply walking back from a quick chicken nugget Happy Meal at our local McDonald’s when I never saw him alive again. I couldn’t fix the biggest tragedy of our lives with a band-aid and a kiss. I didn’t have an ounce of magic to change the fate of our child and our family that ominously windy spring afternoon. I was a mother who lived by the tried-and-true recipe for what a mother should be, and completely crumbled in a matter of moments. A million pieces of confused, furious, crumbled nothingness.

Superhero? Super zero.

There are absolutely no words to describe the black abyss you fall into when your child dies. The hole has no bottom; the descent has no final destination. Life goes from busy and noisy with the demands of a full family to the silence of a world entrenched in death. You want to rise back up to the light, past the whispered condolences, the endless “I’m sorry’s”—back to “normal.” The only problem is that life has no “normal” after you lose a child.

The four of us initially moved like zombies, no longer “living life” but “living death.” We found it impossible to inexplicably have Steven “erased” from our lives, somehow deal with the permanence, and move on. Grief books told me that our family would get over these horrendous, anxiety-ridden feelings. I didn’t want to get over death. I wanted death to go away. I prayed about it. I journaled about it. I just didn’t believe that following the rules of death would bring us back to “life” again.

When we finally got through the shock stage and ventured back out in our everyday world, we’d run into little reminders of Steven’s life. His favorite number at the deli counter. His favorite commercial on TV. A favorite story shared by a classmate. What might be painful encounters for many actually felt like little “hellos” to us. For our daughters, it was a refocus on the funny, active brother with whom they wanted to stay connected, and further away from the details of the accident, which physically stripped him from our lives.

The more we looked for signs and symbols of Steven’s life, the more that came our way. Instead of spending our days in bed under the covers, we found ourselves out looking for hope and a continued connection to our little boy. It would’ve been easier to say good-bye and let go of his place in our lives. Instead, we worked hard to find healthy, well-adjusted ways to keep him close.

Some of the “signs” we’ve received over the past seven years have been quite impressive, and we acknowledge them as confirmation that Steven, our little guardian angel, is watching over us. Rainbows at the most unlikely of times. A double heart in the snow with no footprints around it. Getting on a flight last-minute and being assigned row 13, Steven’s favorite number.

We started to call our steps toward hope and healing, “moving forward but hanging on.” Going on without our little boy cheated us all. Moving forward with him still spiritually and symbolically close was the true answer for our family. Following this path led us in a new direction on the road of grief, one in which our daughters are thriving, and we are “living life” again ourselves, not “living death.”

Four years ago, I began writing the story of our journey back to light and life after the darkest days we ever knew. It is not a tale of magic wands that can bring back our loved ones or how moms can turn tragedy into triumph with a kiss on the forehead. It is, however, the truth of what good can happen when you decide that you love someone so much, you just can’t say good-bye. I feel that it’s especially true when the “someone” you’ve lost is your child.

Please visit Maria's website www.movingforwardhangingon.com which will also give you the change to order her book of hope entitled, “When You Just Can’t Say Good-bye, Don’t – A Mother’s Personal Journey After Losing a Child”

Mom's little white lies....

I've met a lot of mom's who are in this private club of "grieving moms" since my first child, Randee Marie, died in March 1971 and I think this poem describes almost every one of those moms very accurately.... Sad isn't it, that typically the only one who recognizes those "little white lies" are another mom from the same private club... This poem is from each of our angel children "to those around us!!!  ... Cherie Houston

ASK MY MOM HOW SHE IS

My Mom, she tells a lot of lies,
She never did before.
But from now until she dies,
She'll tell a whole lot more.

Ask my Mom how she is
And because she can't explain,
She will tell a little lie
Because she can't describe the pain.

Ask my Mom how she is,
She'll say "I'm alright."
If that's the truth, then tell me,
why does she cry each night?

Ask my Mom how she is,
She seems to cope so well.
She didn't have a choice you see,
Nor the strength to yell.

Ask my Mom how she is,
"I'm fine, I'm well, I'm coping."
For God's sake Mom, just tell the truth,
Just say your heart is broken.

She'll love me all her life,
I loved her all of mine.
But if you ask her how she is,
She'll lie and say she's fine.

I am Here in Heaven.
I cannot hug from here.
If she lies to you don't listen,
Hug her and hold her near.

On the day we meet again,
We'll smile and I'll be bold.
I'll say, "You're lucky to get in here, Mom,
With all the lies you told!"

I love you Mom – Happy Mother’s Day!

-Unknown

Mothers Day is Upon Us

~ by Vivian Gans, TGF/Camden County, New Jersey

It’s May and the earth is getting warmer.  The flowers are in full bloom.  The birds are back.  Young animals are running around and butterflies will soon be fluttering about.

Mothers Day is upon us and for a newly bereaved parent this day brings with it a great pain for your heart and soul.  It s a heartache for those who have lost their only child/children.  The question   “Am I still a mother?” dances in their heads.  For anyone who conceived a child, they will still be a mother, no matter what.  Don’t ever let anyone try to take that away from you.  From the time that child is conceived and starts to grow in our bodies, we are mothers.

Those of us who have other children, don’t forget them.  We are their mother also,.  Our living children need us, sometimes now more than ever.  They need our help and support for all the heartaches and pressures here on earth, including that of losing their brother or sister.

This Mothers’ Day, think of the child you lost; but most of all reach out and hug the child or children you still have here with you if you are fortunate to have children still with you. 

For those of you have lost your only child, look around.  There are children whose mothers have turned their back on their children, there are children who are hurting because they have no mother.. Look around your neighborhood, school or church.  There is someone to whom you could each out and be a friend..

The Grieving Person’s Bill of Rights

The Grieving Person’s Bill of Rights ~ Author Unknown Though you should reach out to others as you do the work of mourning, you should not feel obligated to accept the unhelpful responses you may receive from some people. You are the one who is grieving, and as such, you have certain “rights” no one should try to take away from you. The following list is intended both to empower you to heal and to help you decide how others can and cannot help. This is not to discourage you from reaching out to others for help, but rather to assist you in distinguishing useful responses from hurtful ones. 1. You have the right to experience your own unique grief. No one else will grieve in exactly the same way you do. When you turn to others for help, don’t allow them to tell you what you should or should not be feeling. 2. You have the right to talk about your grief. Talking about your grief will help you heal. Seek out others who will allow you to talk as much as you want, as often as you want, about your grief. 3. You have the right to feel a multitude of emotions. Confusion, disorientation, fear, guilt and relief are just a few of the emotions you might feel as part of your grief journey. Others may try to tell you that feeling angry, for example, is wrong. Don’t take these judgmental responses to heart. Instead, find listeners who will accept your feelings without condition. 4. You have the right to be tolerant of your physical and emotional limits. Your feelings of loss and sadness will probably leave you feeling fatigued. Respect what your body and mind are telling you. Get daily rest. Eat balanced meals. And don’t allow others to push you into doing things you don’t feel ready to do. 5. You have the right to experience grief “attacks.” Sometimes, out of nowhere, a powerful surge of grief may overcome you. This can be frightening, but it is normal and natural. Find someone who understands and will let you talk it out. 6. You have the right to make use of ritual. The funeral ritual does more than acknowledge the death of some one loved. It helps provide you with the support of caring people. More important, the funeral is a way for you to mourn. If others tell you that rituals such as these are silly or unnecessary, don’t listen. 7. You have the right to embrace your spirituality. If faith is a part of your life, express it in ways appropriate to you. Allow yourself to be around people who understand and support your religious beliefs. If you feel angry with God, find someone to talk with who won’t be critical of your feelings of hurt and abandonment. 8. You have the right to search for meaning. You may find yourself asking, “Why did he or she die? Why this way? Why now?” Some of your questions may have answers, but some may not. And watch out for the clichéd responses some people may give you. Comments like, “It was God’s will” or “Think of what you have to be thankful for,” are not helpful and you do not have to accept them. 9. You have the right to treasure your memories. Memories are one of the best legacies that exist after the death of someone loved. You will always remember. Instead of ignoring your memories, find others with whom you can share them. 10. You have the right to move toward your grief and heal. Reconciling your grief will not happen quickly. Remember, grief is a process, not an event. Be patient and tolerant with yourself and avoid people who are impatient and intolerant with you. Neither you nor those around you must forget that the death of someone loved changes your life forever.

Strength - You are Stronger than you think

STRENGTH

~by Tery Jago, Regina, Canada~

In the early days of my grief, 

a tear would well up in my eyes,

A lump would form in my throat, 

but you would not know………  I would hide it,

AND, I am STRONG!!

In the middle days of my grief, 

I would look ahead and see that wall

that I had attempted to go around 

as an ever-present reminder of a wall yet unscaled.

Yet I did not attempt to scale it for the strong will survive –

AND I am STRONG!!

In the later days of my grief, 

I learned to climb over that wall – step by step –

Remembering, crying, grieving.

And the tears flowed steadily as I painstakingly went over.

The way was long, but I did make it, 

For I am STRONG!

Near the resolution of my grief, 

a tear will well up in my eyes, 

a lump will form in my throat, 

but I will let that tear fall – and you will see it.

Through it you will see

that I still hurt and I still care.

For I am STRONG!

Who is a Bereaved Mother?

~ Author Unknown 

A Bereaved Mother is someone who stands at a grave wondering how she is going to live the rest of her life without this child

A Bereaved Mother is someone who thinks and fears that she will spend the rest of her life with this horrendous feeling inside.  

A Bereaved Mother is someone who learns she can think again of happy moments instead of the horror that surrounds her child’s death

A Bereaved Mother is someone who has to learn how to live all over again

A Bereaved Mother is someone who has to start new traditions in her family because the old ones no longer work

A Bereaved Mother is someone who wishes they would take Mothers Day out of the calendar

A Bereaved Mother is someone who only has the past left of her child

A Bereaved Mother is someone who has to learn to accept the loss of her beloved child and uses what she has learned to help others

A Bereaved Mother is someone who can again learn to smile, to look forward to the future and excited again because other moms, who were just like her "bereaved moms themselves" were there when she needed them

Motherhood & Mother's Day, So Different Now

~~ by Mary A. D. Petrino - In Loving Memory of Julia Kenney Teresa Petrino, August 8, 1984 - June 9, 1999 

 For those of us who have experienced the loss of a child, Mother's Day becomes less about mothers and more about children. Often, there are painful memories of profound loss. Sometimes, there are joyful memories of a precious child. Always, there is the realization that this one special life has forever changed the life of the mother. On Mother's Day, the absence of our children is a void we try to fill with memories - a handmade card from long ago, a special photograph from happy times, a song once loved and shared - but the memories can never replace the presence of our children.

Mysteriously, we have been called to walk a different road together - one without our children. As we might observe other families experiencing what we had once enjoyed on this special day, we might feel envious. We cannot delight in the pleasures of a Mother's Day brunch or family outing that celebrates the joy of being the mother of such a special child. Why were we asked to carry this burden of being separated from the person who gave us the title of "mother?" Perhaps there are no answers adequate enough to satisfy each one of us. That is what makes life as well as motherhood such a great mystery.

Recently, at a meeting of In Loving Memory [the TCF satellite group for parents with no surviving children] a strange question came up for discussion: "What benefit, if any, has resulted from the death of your child?" Some people thought immediately that the question was a mistake. Others though that the question should be thrown out. Some others asked why we should not consider this question - perhaps it had some merit.

Perhaps benefit is expressed in each individual child's legacy - through contributions, research, scholarships or other good works carried out in loving memory of our children. Perhaps another benefit is the perspective each of us brings to the support group. Certainly, Alive Alone, In Loving Memory, and The Compassionate Friends are what they are because of who we are - and who are children are - and because we honor their memory.

Not all of us shared the same set of beliefs, but we all believed that our children were the greatest influence on our lives. They were the ones who "gave birth" to the persons who became their mothers. They changed us from the day they entered our lives. Their lives and their deaths have changed our lives for the rest of our lives.

So perhaps the greatest legacy of our children is in the person we have become for each other, for those we support through Alive Alone, In Loving Memory, TCF, as well as for our families, our friends, and our communities.

Many, many years ago, another young mother lived in a remote village, far from the center of what was considered the civilized world. Her only son grew up and learned to practice his father's trade. After years of working quietly at home, he left and began traveling through their country, teaching and healing the crowds of who came to hear him. But his message and his miracles threatened the established traditions of his day, and the local leaders feared his influence among the people. Ultimately, his mother, who followed him everywhere, watched her precious only son suffer and die the most horrible death known at that time.

But before he died, he told his followers, "Love one another as I have loved you." As he died, he commended his mother's care to his dearest friend. So, his mother found the key to the mystery of how to continue after his death. His mother understood the way to honor her son and his memory.

His mother followed his teachings and kept his memory alive for his friends. Perhaps we might learn from her, and follow her good example, for she was the most perfect mother of all time.

WHEN MOTHER'S DAY HURTS Part 3 of 3

~ Karla Helbert, MS, LPC, Grief, Loss & Bereavement Expert

In our society where mourning is no longer a widespread or open practice (though I am working hard, along with likeminded friends and colleagues to change that), other community members may not always feel they can openly discuss “the departed.”

If you know someone whose mother has died, or if you knew his or her mother, perhaps sending a white flower in memory of their mother may be a lovely gesture. You might also consider sending a card or letter, or making a phone call specifically to share memories of that person’s mother. Taking a moment to let her child know how much she meant to you, can be very comforting. If you know a young child whose mother has died, acknowledge that child’s pain and let that child know that you are a safe person to talk to. Again, sharing memories of the child’s mother can let that child know how much his or her mom meant to others.

For all of us, childless mothers and motherless children alike, planning a way to remember our deeply cherished loved ones is very important:

• • Make a plan that will honor your mother’s or your child’s life
• • Acknowledge their presence in your life, your heart and your mind.
• • Honor your love for them, as well as the pain you feel due to their absence.
• • Create new traditions for this day: light a candle, say a prayer, or wear a flower.
• • You might wish to donate to a charity in your child’s or your mother’s name
• Plan a visit to the burial site, plant a tree, create a work of art or start a scrapbook.
• Read your child or mom’s favorite book, watch their favorite movies, listen to songs they loved.
• Name a star after your child, make his or her favorite food, plan a balloon release with notes to him or her written on the balloons.

No matter what, you are always a mother. And no matter what, your mother is always your mother. We can remember them with love.

I vividly recall the first Mother’s Day after my son died. It was a very sad, painful day. The beauty of spring itself seemed to exist solely to mock my childless arms. On that day, my husband and I planted a tree in our backyard. I had originally planned to plant a tree for our son so that he could watch the tree grow as he grew. Instead, we planted the tree in his memory. The choosing of the tree, bringing it home, digging the hole, and the placement of the tree itself, were all acts that meant more than the simple planting of a tree. The act was elevated to ritual status and was very healing and comforting. I placed special stones around the tree, hung wind chimes and placed special ornaments in and around the tree. Caring for the tree has become a way of demonstrating our on-going love for him. Weeding, decorating the area, watering and fertilizing the tree have allowed for that loving memorial to continue. The tree is visible in our back yard from every window that looks out of the back of our house; kitchen, living room, bathroom, hallway, office.

While nothing takes away the pain of missing my child, the ritual we created together to honor his memory made that first Mother’s Day more bearable, and is a constant reminder of our love for him. Seeing the tree bloom each spring and watching it grow a little taller and stronger with each passing year underscore the tree’s symbolic representation of our ever-present love for him and his presence in our family.

If you anticipate that Mother’s Day will be difficult for you, whatever your personal circumstances, spend some time making a plan for honoring, remembering and memorializing. Think about doing something to care for yourself as well. Self-care gifts such as massage, manicure, pedicure, can all help to alleviate stress. Ask for what you need. Taking time to be alone, to journal, to take a walk, spend time in nature, or simply to rest can be very helpful. If you need support, ask for it. If you worry that no one will do anything for you on Mother’s Day, be pro-active and tell your loved ones what you would like to do to observe the day. Plan a lunch or dinner with supportive friends or family.

Give yourself permission to do what you need to do to take care of yourself.

And know that your sisters in grief will be thinking of you and sending you their love...

WHEN MOTHER'S DAY HURTS Part 2 of 3

~ Karla Helbert, MS, LPC, Grief, Loss & Bereavement Expert

All bereaved parents long to hear other people speak their child’s name after he or she has died. Many non-bereaved people think (wrongly) that if they mention the child, this will somehow “open the wound,” or “remind” us of the loss. You can trust that we are already thinking about our children, that wound is ever-present. Our children are never, ever far from our hearts and minds. One of the greatest fears for a bereaved parent is that no one, except for us, will remember our children. If you have a special memory of her child, send a card with a story of that memory enclosed. It will be a cherished treasure. Even a card simply wishing her a happy and peaceful day is a gesture that is greatly appreciated.

When we are bereaved mothers who are also fortunate enough to have other children who are alive, we continue to miss and to mourn the ones who are not here for our arms to physically enfold. For these mothers, acknowledging their child who has died can be an incredibly meaningful gift. One child does not replace another. We celebrate in the joyful presence of our living children and deeply mourn the absence of the ones who are not here sharing our daily lives. Remembering that we are mothers to all our children is such a special act.

For women who have suffered early miscarriage, women experiencing infertility problems, or for birth mothers whose birth children have been placed in adoptive homes, Mother’s Day can bring a silent and isolating grief. Much of society does not recognize the loss that can be inherent in these women’s circumstances. Simply letting her know that you are thinking of her on this day can be welcome gesture. A phone call to check in and a simple, “I was thinking of you today and wondering if you were doing ok.” This can allow her to talk about her feelings if she chooses to do so.

For any person whose mother has died, Mother’s Day can be a painful and sad time. A tradition of the not so long ago past called for corsages to be worn on Mother’s Day. A red corsage meant that person’s mother was still alive. A white flower meant their mother had died. Those who wore white flowers were most likely given extra hugs or an extra squeeze of the hand. The openly worn symbol of the flower allowed others to feel freer to talk about the woman who had died, to feel invited to share remembrances or condolences. It's sad this tradition is so rare today...

Part 3 of 3 continued tomorrow, Friday, May 4th

WHEN MOTHER'S DAY HURTS Part 1 of 3

~ Karla Helbert, MS, LPC, Grief, Loss & Bereavement Expert

Mother’s Day is observed by many as a joyful day of celebration, a time when hardworking mothers can have a chance to put our feet up, relax, be treated to breakfasts in bed, special lunches or dinners, given special consideration. We might receive gifts lovingly chosen or perhaps handmade by our children and partners. The day may hold special times set aside for visiting with or talking to our mothers, perhaps making up for time we have been apart, busy with our lives. The idea of Mother’s Day in our culture is painted as brightly and sentimentally as any Hallmark commercial.

The truth is though, for many, Mother’s Day can be a painful and difficult day. Women whose children have died at any age, women experiencing infertility, women who have had miscarriages, men, women and children whose mothers have died—for these and others, Mother’s Day can be a day of sadness and loss. In grief, many days typically perceived as happy or joyful times are experienced by the grieving and bereaved as sad and isolating.

Bereaved mothers are faced with the experience of seeing other mothers interact with their children, of watching seemingly happy, intact families go about the daily ordinary business of life. People whose mothers have died hear other people speak casually about day-to-day interactions with their mothers, or watch mothers and daughters shopping or lunching happily. We are faced with the barrage of Mother’s Day commercials created to tug at our heart strings (and of course, urge us to open our wallets); and in all those things, so much of the grief we experience is the grief for that which can never be our reality.

Each person’s grief, and his or her response to the pain of grief is always highly individual, but no matter what, if you are mother whose child has died, or, if you are a child whose mother has died, Mother’s Day is a sad time.

For women whose children have died, it can almost go without saying that Mother’s Day is deeply painful, and because of that, it should never go without saying. If you know a mother whose child has died, at any age, please acknowledge her motherhood as well as her pain. The greatest gift for a bereaved mother on Mother’s Day can be the simple, but hugely powerful, recognition of her motherhood. Even though our children have died, we are still mothers–to all of our children.

The simple act of recognition allows a bereaved mother the validation she so often seeks and sadly, so often finds missing. A hug and a “Happy Mother’s Day,” even if that seems improbable, could mean more than one could imagine. There are many things supportive friends and family members can do to help ease the pain of this difficult day for a grieving mother. Visit her child’s grave, leave a pretty stone, a seashell or other small trinket, and let her know. Talk about her child. Use her child’s name in conversation, no matter how brief.

continued Part 2 of 3, tomorrow: Wednesday, May 2nd 

May 1st - a sign that Mother's Day is just around the corner

~ by Cherie Houston, Journey from Mourning to Joy, LHC, AZ

Yes it's May 1st - and no doubt the commercials and ads for Mothers Day are everywhere... Another holiday that seems to knock us down and remind us - like cold water thrown at us - that our child or children are no longer here.

For parents who have lost their only child - holidays like Mother's Day and Father's Day can be almot unbearable, and even for those of us who are blessed to have other children, grand-children or great-grand-children often find holidays like Mother's Day difficult - yes they can be "grief triggers" that catapult us down the mountain into that roaring river of grief...

Nothing we can do or say can ease these triggers - the waves of emotions that you might experience;  but one thing I've learned over the years and you may have heard (and it's true) is that the anticipation of certain days is almost always much worse than the actual holiday, birthday or anniversary itself... You may not believe it, and it may not be easy, but you will get through it..  How you do that will be as varied as each of our own circumstances - just remember there is no right or wrong way... 

No matter what you might think or have been told, no matter what, you are now and will always be a mom, nothing will ever change that. Whether your child or children are angels or thriving, the moment we conceive, we earn the title of "mom, mother, ma" and it is an incredible title that will remain with us until we ourselves are finished here on earth and return home to heaven...

We hope that the articles we'll share with you every day for the next few weeks will help you in some small way to find peace in your heart.. Lots of Love & hugs from one mom to another as we celebrate the most wonderful title we've ever been given "Mom"...Cherie Houston