Grandparent Grief-Helping Your Grieving Child (Part 1 of 3)

GRANDPARENT GRIEF-Helping your Grieving Child (Part 1 of 3)

~ by Margaret H. Gerner

I am powerlessness. I am helplessness. I am frustration. I sit with her and I cry with her. She cries for her daughter and I cry for mine. I can't help her. I can't reach inside her and take her broken heart. I must watch her suffer day after day.

I listen to her tell me over and over how she misses Emily, how she wants her back. I can't bring Emily back for her. I can't buy her an even better Emily than she had, like I could buy her an even better toy when she was a child. I can't kiss the hurt and make it go away. I can't even kiss even a small part of it away. There's no band aid large enough to cover her bleeding heart.

There was a time I could listen to her talk about a fickle boyfriend and tell her it would be okay, and know in my heart that in two weeks she wouldn't even think of him. Can I tell her it'll be okay in two years when I know it will never be okay, that she will carry this pain of "what might have been" in her deepest heart for the rest of her life?

I see this young woman, my child, who was once carefree and fun-loving and bubbling with life, slumped in a chair with her eyes full of agony. Where is my power now? Where is my mother's bag of tricks that will make it all better.  Why can't I join her in the aloneness of her grief? As tight as my arms wrap around her, I can't reach that aloneness.

What can I give her to make her better? A cold, wet cloth will ease the swelling of her crying eyes, but it won't stop the reason for her tears. What treat will bring joy back to her? What prize will bring that happy child smile back? Where are the magic words to give her comfort? What chapter in Dr. Spock tells me how to do this? He has told me everything else I've needed to know.

Where are the answers?  I should have them.  I'm the mother.

I know that someday she'll find happiness again, that her life will have meaning again. I can hold out hope for her someday, but what about now? this minute? this hour? this day?  I can give her my love and my prayers and my care and my concern. I could give her my life. But even that won't help.

I wrote this piece out of deep feelings of powerlessness. It seemed that no matter what I did, I could not take away my daughter's pain at the death of her 3 year old daughter, Emily. Were that not enough, I was devastated by my own grief at the loss of my precious granddaughter.

I could relate to my daughter's pain. I, too, had lost a child. In 1971 my six year old son, Arthur, was killed by an automobile. At that time there were no support groups that I knew of. I didn't know how to grieve or that what I was feeling was normal. I thought I was losing my mind. The psychiatrist I saw after Arthur's death reinforced my belief by giving me drugs for my "depression".

I tried to do what people told me to do; count my blessings and be "strong." That meant not talking about Arthur, not crying, and not expressing any other emotions I felt. The result was five years of distorted, prolonged grief which eventually had to be resolved with the help of a professional who had training in bereavement.

When my daughter lost her child -- that very day in the hospital, with Emily growing cold under my hands -- I swore this would not happen to Dorothy. I didn't know how, but I knew I was going to do everything possible to help her. I knew what she had ahead of her.

I was shattered by Emily's death, but my grief lessened sooner than Dorothy's. Since Emily was not my child, I recovered many months ahead of my daughter. What didn't lessen was seeing Dorothy's pain. That continues, at times, even today.

As a parent of a grieving child, you have a unique opportunity to cement a deep and lasting relationship with your child.

ü         You have the opportunity to walk with your child through the most difficult life experience they will endure.

ü         You have the opportunity to help your child in a very special way and the bond that forms will never be broken.

ü         It will not be easy, and the process is long and hard. You will feel powerless, frustrated and helpless many times.

But you CAN help!

~ Reprinted from "Centering Corporation pamphlet For Bereaved Grandparents".
 This series is continued in our next Blog Posting – Part 2 of 3, on October 1, 2012

If We Could Have A Lifetime Wish - Poem

IF WE COULD HAVE A LIFETIME WISH

~ author unknown

If we could have a lifetime wish,

A dream that would come true,

We'd pray to God with all our hearts

For yesterday and You.

A thousand words can't bring you back

We know because we've tried...

Neither will a thousand tears

We know because we've cried...

You left behind our broken hearts

And happy memories too...

But we never wanted memories

We only wanted You!

The Dragonfly Story

3 years ago today, my 36 year old son Bobby died. For those of you who know me and our family, you know that Bobby took his own life, leaving his wife of 11 years and 2 beautiful little boys who were only 5 & 7 at the time...Since Bobby's death, Dragonflies have become a symbol of Bobby's wonderful spirit.  Little did I realize that they began appearing the next morning - but since that time, those closest to Bobby - his family and friends alike will tell you that they always seem to be with us - whether we are at the beach, ballgames, on the ocean, at Disney, Grand Canyon, or at celebrations for christenings, birthdays, first communions, you name it and there is always a dragonfly..

Shortly after Bobby's death, when Bobby's wife and friends pointed the dragonflies out to me and their conviction that it was his way of saying he was OK, I searched online for the story of this symbolism.  After finding The Dragonfly Story, I bought a few copies of the book so that I could read it to his litle boys, Dylan & Justin.... This story always brings me a sense of peace and joy - Bobby loved the ocean - any water for that matter since he was very little, so it's no surprise to any of us that a dragonfly would become a symbol of Bobby and his life and the peace that I'm sure he has found with his sisters and beloved Nana Mae in heaven...Cherie Houston

The Dragonfly

~Author Unknown~

Once, in a little pond, in the muddy water under the lily pads, there lived a little water beetle in a community of water beetles. They lived a simple and comfortable life in the pond with few disturbances and interruptions.

Once in a while, sadness would come to the community when one of their fellow beetles would climb the stem of a lily pad and would never be seen again. They knew when this happened; their friend was dead, gone forever.

Then, one day, one little water beetle felt an irresistible urge to climb up that stem. However, he was determined that he would not leave forever. He would come back and tell his friends what he had found at the top.

When he reached the top and climbed out of the water onto the surface of the lily pad, he was so tired, and the sun felt so warm, that he decided he must take a nap. As he slept, his body changed and when he woke up, he had turned into a beautiful blue-tailed dragonfly with broad wings and a slender body designed for flying.

So, fly he did! And, as he soared he saw the beauty of a whole new world and a far superior way of life to what he had never known existed.  Then he remembered his beetle friends and how they were thinking by now he was dead. He wanted to go back to tell them, and explain to them that he was now more alive than he had ever been before. His life had been fulfilled rather than ended.

But, his new body would not go down into the water. He could not get back to tell his friends the good news. Then he understood that their time would come, when they, too, would know what he now knew. So, he raised his wings and flew off into his joyous new life!

The loss of a child is an inconsolable grief..…

Thanks to Susan Jerome of Patterson, Illinois  for sending me this story.. It shows that "the inconsolable grief" of losing a child spans time and all socio-economic barriers - as this speaks of "Attorney Abraham Lincoln and his friend Judge David Davis" as they dealt with the deaths of their own young children and dealt with the "inconsolable grief" that is part of the journey....

~ By Bill Kemp | Archivist/historian McLean County Museum of History

In the 19th century, high infant mortality rates plagued rich and poor alike, and for many parents this earthly existence was a true veil of tears.  Few better understood this than David and Sarah Davis, who lost five children in the two decades before the Civil War.  From 1848-1862, Judge David Davis presided over the Eighth Judicial Circuit as he and a band of lawyers traveled from one Central Illinois county seat to another, often spending weeks at a time on the road.

In August, Judge Davis opened the Eighth Circuit Court in Springfield and was there when he received an Aug. 28 letter from his wife. “Lucy was well last week, but on Sunday night (Aug. 25) her bowels were loose — and yesterday she had a chill,” wrote Sarah. “She suffers no pain today but is feeble and languid of course.” (The letters cited herein are held at the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library in Springfield, with transcriptions provided by the David Davis Mansion.)

By this time the Davises had already lost two children: A stillborn boy in 1840 and ten-month-old Mercer, who passed away in early September 1846 of an unidentified illness.  Writing from Springfield three days later, Aug. 31, David told Sarah that her letter made him “very uneasy so much so that I am really unfit to hold Court today.” He headed back to Bloomington, but it was too late — Lucy had died the same day he wrote his letter.  She was laid to rest next to her brother Mercer at City Cemetery (now Evergreen Memorial) south of downtown.

Yet with the death of his infant daughter Lucy Adam Davis of dysentery in late August 1850, the judge deemed it best to bring with him on the fall “swing” of the circuit his grief-stricken wife Sarah and their son George Perrin.  During those several weeks, Springfield attorney Abraham Lincoln took eight-year-old George under his care, giving his parents needed time alone.  While Sarah traveled by buggy with her husband, George rode with “Mr. Lincoln,” who knew well the inconsolable grief that comes with the loss of a child. Earlier that year, Feb. 1, Lincoln’s own son Edward Baker had died of “chronic consumption” just short of his fourth birthday. 

On Sept.5, Sarah penned a letter to her mother, Lucy Adam Walker, the namesake of her departed daughter. “Our little Lucy is no more,” was how Sarah began this touching letter to her mother.  No stranger to grief, Sarah still found some measure of comfort. “Our dear child passed away very gently,” she wrote, “and looked so like (an) angel in her cradle that I could not have the heart to wish her back in this world of trial.” 

Despite the sorrow (or perhaps because of it) Judge Davis prepared to head back out and onto the Eighth Circuit.  This time though, he was reluctant to leave behind the family. As an adult, George Perrin Davis recalled those weeks after his infant sister’s death riding in Lincoln’s “one-horse open buggy.”  The Davises faced further personal tragedy in the coming decade. Infant Frances Mary died in 1857, and a 45-year-old Sarah gave birth to a stillborn girl in 1859. Only two of their seven children, George Perrin (1842-1917) and Sarah “Sallie” Worthington (1852-1934), lived into adulthood.  In 1862, Lincoln picked Davis for a seat on U.S. Supreme Court.

For those fortunate enough to have never lost a child…

Most parents who are coping with the death of a child or children are commonly frustrated and saddened by well-meaning family, friends and co-workers who don’t understand why they can’t “move on” or “get back to normal”…  

Since I began this blog almost 3 years ago after the death of my third child, my 36 year old son Bobby,  I’ve written many postings about why I think others can’t understand, typically trying to give them the benefit of the doubt…  I recently received the following from a mom in England, who asked that I not share her name – but she tells me it was written by a grieving dad and it is to me the most powerful response to those well meaning “outsiders” that I’ve ever read….I know its longer than most of our postings, but believe me, it’s also one of the most powerful…  

I don’t know this dad, or where he’s from, but I want to thank him on behalf of all of us, for being so eloquent – for saying what I think may of us feel and think to ourselves ~ but have never been able to say as well.  Furthermore I hope this dad, Alan Carnahan,  won’t mind that this is one article I will share annually on our blog….Cherie Houston

For those fortunate enough to have never lost a child…

~by Alan Carnahan, grieving father

You say it’s time for me to “move on” in my grief. Perhaps you’re right or perhaps you just don’t realize what you’re asking. So, why don’t you try this little exercise and maybe it will help you get a better perspective on what I am going through. To make this really hit home for you it should be practiced for at least 24 hours. The longer the better; but, we do not have that long, so we will do it for 10 minutes. Don’t blow this off as a stupid idea. It works along the same lines as blindfolding yourself to experience being without sight.

First of all, think about your child.

I want you to try to imagine the worst thing in the world that your beloved child died. Whatever age or stage of development, whether he or she lives with you or not, just imagine you won’t ever see that child on earth again.

Let me explain to you the reality…try to imagine, if you can, never seeing your child again, never hearing his/her laugh, never hearing the sound of their voice, never smelling the scent you have come to recognize as your child…. never hearing them say “I love you”…nothing – just silence, emptiness…..

Now imagine never seeing your child’s smile, never seeing him upset or happy, never watching him sleep…missing them so much that you are twisted up inside and the pain stays with you 24/7.

You smell their pillow, their clothes, you look at his pictures and can only cry – what happened, why?

You have never felt longing like this in your life! Longing to hear his voice, to see his face again,…and to know deep in your soul you cannot fix this.

Now, imagine every single thing that used to give you joy and pleasure turns into hurt and despair overnight. Not a gradual thing, but going from pleasure to hurt, from happiness to sadness, from peace to no peace, changing overnight. Every thing you loved now hurts like hell… For example: music. I used to be a band director. Music was a big part of my life. Now it’s hard for me to listen to it It sears me like a red hot knife with the pain of losing my child, it cuts me wide open, especially rap music……my son loved rap music. Almost every song reminds me of the void in my life without my child. I am not unique in that pain – if you lost a child you would know. That is just one little example of how your life is affected by the loss of your child. Just ONE example!

Now imagine calling all your family and friends to tell them your child died.

Next; go to a funeral home and discuss caskets or cremation, headstone, burial plots, etc. Pick out a favorite outfit for your child to be buried in and the flowers that lay at the alter. Sit down and write out the obituary for the newspaper, pick out the music to be played at their memorial and picking out pictures of them to put around the funeral home.

Get in his closet of his room and hold onto his clothes that he wore and cry until there are no more tears.

Then repeat this until you think you’re losing your mind and your gut is wrenching.

If you made it through that part you are ready for the next step. As good parents, we were always able to fix things or make things better for our children.. this we cannot fix, we cannot make it better. So; on top of everything else you are feeling, you also feel helplessness, out of control hopelessness…and this is universal. Every parent that truly loves their child will feel this.

Are you starting to imagine now how it feels? Just think you are doing this exercise for only 10 minutes, imagine… really imagine, feeling this way 24/7 – day after day, month after month, year after year and no matter what you are doing or who you are talking to; memories of your child play over and over in your mind. Your child when he was a baby, a laughing happy little boy, a handsome young teen, a wonderful young man/ woman and it always plays in your head and you do not want to forget even a single second of your beautiful child’s life…but; that is a fear you have. You fear that as time passes, you will start to forget…so now, please add FEAR to the list of emotions.

This is what it really feels like. A part of you has died…. don’t just read the words, FEEL them – DIED…… gone forever… a real, beautiful, living part of you has died… and you are still living. Left behind to try to pick up the pieces of your shattered life and not having a clue where to even begin. No wonder a high percentage of marriages break up, parents have breakdowns, turn to alcohol, drugs or a destructive way of life. NO WONDER!!!!!

During all of this remember, the world hasn’t stopped. If you have a job, you will have to return to it. The power company and everyone else still wants their payment each month.

You may have doctor’s bills, ambulance bills, and attorney fees if an accident was involved.

If your child died at the hands of another, there will be a trial and publicity.

If you were blessed to have other children; you will have to deal with their grief as well as your own. They will still have homework, tests, reports, projects and the class bully.

You feel the loss with every thought, every emotion. The loss bleeds into every aspect of your life.

Even with your other children…you still love your other children just as much as always, but, as hard as it is… even they hurt you now… because when you see them… you feel the LOSS, the loss of the child that died…. not being with their siblings. It doesn’t fit. There is a piece missing. Your whole life doesn’t fit anymore. Everything that felt right, now feels wrong and of course there is always the missing, the horrible gut wrenching, out of your control….. MISSING….…

Next comes the “firsts”. First birthday without them. First anniversary of death and at first, you count the days, weeks, and months since they passed. Your first Christmas without them, etc. When everyone is singing tra-la-la and jingle bells…. you won’t be. Your heart will be too heavy. The hurt will be so intense you will marvel that you can get out of bed each morning.

Every morning when you take your other children to school you’ll be reminded that you AREN’T taking one too.

You’ll see their friends going on with their lives and it will cut you to the quick.

When they all graduate from kindergarten, middle school, high school….. your child won’t.

When you start getting wedding invitations in the mail for these other children, you’ll be reminded again of your loss.

Don’t forget that when you go shopping; you’ll see things that you wanted to buy for your deceased child and many times you will still buy them anyway.

You’ll see places the two of you USED to go and sometimes sit in the parking lot and remember that special day.

At home when you prepare a favorite meal of the child who is gone; it won’t taste the same to you.

The pictures, cards they made for you or sent you, the toys and other possessions of your child…. will be both harmful…. and helpful. They are a link to the past, a way to remember more about what you’ve lost and (had) at the same time; they are a link to the past and a way to remember more about what you’ve lost.

Remember……. That family portrait you were always so proud of? Well, it will take on a whole new meaning now.

A part of you does not exist anymore and it is scary as hell…. that is why they say the loss of a child is like no other loss.. you cannot compare it to another loss.

With other losses, you grieve and you are of course sad, but, when your child dies, a part of you ceases to exist… gone just like that….. gone no warning, JUST GONE.  And the life that you knew, the things you always felt, the things in your life that made sense, that you held on to, that makes up who you are – are Gone!!!

That is why when parents who have lost children hear..

“I want the old you back,”

“It’s been a year (a month, 6 months-whatever), don’t you feel better yet?,”

“You are doing this to yourself,”

“You’re making it harder on yourself,”

“Grief can become a selfish thing you know”

…we can only shake our heads and feel sadness and hopelessness, because there is no way our lives will ever be like it was when our child was alive.

No wonder bereaved parents isolate themselves, we are just trying to hold on.

So….were you able to imagine for 10 minutes what it must feel like? Even 2 minutes is too long to imagine the unimaginable, to feel the pain. I would not wish this on anyone….but did you get a sense of how life-changing it is? Imagine you feeling this way 24/7; not even getting a moments relief from it!

Now, go on and put in your favorite CD to listen to, enjoy the music…..go home and hug your child, listen to them laugh, watch him smile, smell the scent that you know is them and please do not tell me how I should feel or that I am holding onto this. I know that my friends/family must be tired of watching me go through this, because if you haven’t lost a beloved child of yours…… you haven’t got a clue.

When you hear these words “the presence of his absence is everywhere”…. will you finally understand?

Didn’t mean to ask too much of you. Believe it or not. I could write dozens of other things for you to imagine. Fortunately for you, it’s only an exercise. But I live it every day.

IF you have had the guts to stick it out to here…..remember; this was just a little exercise. I don’t think you will be so quick to utter those words now.  Not if you really did imagine.

~by Alan Carnahan, grieving father

Tribute to all the mom's who lost children on 9/11...

I want to again thank Paula Abrahms from Schnectedy, NY (herself a mom who has lost 2 children - Danielle in 1984 and Steven in 1999) for sending this to me last year for our blog on 9/11 – I know that we used it last year when she sent it to us, but I’m sure you won’t mind if we use it again.  I hope you will join me in this prayer, as we all remember all the mom's who lost children on that dreadful morning that we now refer to as 9/11. Cherie Houston

On a beautiful Tuesday morning, ten years ago today “September 11th, 2001” in just moments, 2,996 mothers lost their children. Of the 2,996 – this includes the 2,977 innocent victims and the 19 highjackers.

Yes that morning mothers of 246 victims were on the four planes, the two that struck the towers in New York, the one that struck the Pentagon and the 4th that went down in a field in Shanksville, PA; mothers of 2,606victims in New York City who were in the towers or on the ground, mothers of 125 at the Pentagon in Washington. Not that it matters to these moms, but of all the deaths that morning, all were innocent civilians except for 55 innocent military personnel who were killed in the attack on the Pentagon…

This morning please join us and take a moment to remember these moms and their entire extended families, who continue on the same journey that we are each on. And I hope that you will also join take a moment to say this prayer, that we ~ like they, can find the strength needed to continue moving forward on this journey from mourning to joy.

This day is remembered and quietly kept
I pray to God that we never forget,
Yes the blow was hard, the shock severe,
So many lost, so much fear amidst the tears

I pray its true they still live on in the hearts and minds,
Of the loving families, that they left behind
No longer here in our life to share,
But in our hearts – they are always there

Our love for them and theirs for us, can never go away,
I think they are with us every day
Unseen and unheard, but always near,
So loved, so missed, and so very dear.

Yes its hard for sure when we’re left behind
Trying to move forward, praying for some peace of mind
Time and faith and kinds words when spoken
Will help heal our hearts that were so badly broken

Good Lord Above
Please grant strength and peace
to all 9/11 moms and families

And take a moment to visit the website dedicated to the 911 Memorial being dedicated today in New York City, NY in memory of all who lost their lives...

http://www.911memorial.org/

My husband Dan and I took 2 of our children to New York this summer and we were blessed to be able to visit the memorial.  To me it is humbling and actually takes your breath away; I knew the buildings well - having been there many times on business... I think the design chosen is and will continue to be a perfect memorial to all who are there-may they rest in peace...

Pain and Healing..

On Pain and Healing... From the chapter, “Time Does Not Heal All Wounds,” of the book, “Good Grief,” by Deborah Morris Coryell

In pain management used for patients with chronic pain, it is taught not to tighten around the pain but to relax and allow the pain to be present.

The idea is that when pain is resisted, it intensifies. When we breath deeply and acknowledge the presence of pain, it has room to move and can dissipate more readily. Pain is there to tell us something, to warn us of possible danger. This is as true for emotional, spiritual and mental pain as it is for physical pain. When pain speaks, we need to listen. All it takes is paying attention to our pain so that when it comes we remember to breathe and get soft. We don’t want to fight with our pain. We want to learn from it.

Time does not heal. But healing does take time. Give yourself the gift of time. To become whole means that as we open to the pain, we open to the loss. We break open and, as a consequence, we get bigger and include more of life. We include what would have been “lost” to us if our hearts and minds had closed against the pain, we include what would have been lost if we had not taken the time to heal.

As singer/songwriter Carly Simon tells us:  “There’s more room in a broken heart.” 

In Memory of Don Floyd..

Joyce, We Want You To Know That You and Your Family Are In Our Thoughts And Prayers Today On Don’s First Heavenly Anniversary..

SHOULD YOU GO FIRST

~ by Albert Kennedy "Rosey" Rowsell ~

Should you go first and I remain
to walk the road alone,
I'll live in memories garden dear,
with happy days we've known.

In spring I'll wait for roses red,
when faded, the lilacs blue.
In early fall when brown leaves fall,
I'll catch a glimpse of you.

Should you go first and I remain,
for battle to be fought.
Each thing you've touched along the way
will be a hallowed spot.

I'll hear your voice, I'll see your smile,
though blindly I may grope,
The memory of your helping hand
will buoy me on with hope.

Should you go first and I remain,
one thing I'll have you do:
Walk slowly down that long long path,
for soon I'll follow you.

I want to know each step you take,
so I may take the same.
For someday down that lonely road
you'll hear me call your name.

Did I love my child enough???

How many times have those of us who have lost a child asked ourselves this question?  But I believe if our children could speak to us, their answer would be: "yes mom you did and even though I'm not there with you physically,  you are still loving me"  This is what I want to believe and this question that we've all asked ourselves from time to time is so poignantly addressed in the following... 

“DID I LOVE HIM ENOUGH?”

~ by Dana Rogers ~TCF Galveston, TX ~ In memory of my son, Rick Rogers

I hope I did.  It’s sad that now I ‘m only able to look back and hope I did.  There are no do-overs.  There are no, “I’m sorrys”.  There are no thoughts of  “I’ll do better next time” or “I’ll spend more time with him today.” 

The lesson I learned is so valuable but it’s a lesson you only learn when you lose a child.  Oh, I wish I could tell him that it was OK that he lined his shoes against the entire wall of his bedroom when I sent him in there to clean his closet.  In fact I should have said it was ingenious or adorable or maybe commented on how long it must have taken him to do this.  Any of these things would have been better than the way it actually played out.  I can’t remember the exact words but I can remember the disappointment in his eyes. Oh, how I wish I could do this over.  This is one of the guilts I can never undo. 

I can only whisper “I’m sorry, Rick” and hope he hears. When he had a fever and came and sat next to me to chase away the fever-induced villains, did I hug him or reassure him that I would always be there to care for and protect him.  Or did I continue to watch my soap opera knowing that this episode would never be shown again but they would continue with the next chapter of the story tomorrow?  I wish I had realized then that life is the same.  The words I spoke or the indifference I showed would be forever held in that slot of history. 

We are human and we tend to have a selfish side.  A side of us that also wants what we want.  However, when we have children that side is usually put up on a shelf to be taken out and dusted off and appreciated in the days after our children leave to begin their own lives.  When it is brought down earlier we might use those times as learning experiences—teaching our child to share or to realize that as parents we have wants and needs also but then we put this selfish side back on the shelf to be enjoyed later.  When the child leaves a parent has time to reflect and distinguish between our good memories and our bad.  “Others” who haven’t lost their children for good, the ones whose children are just away at college or starting a family of their own have a priceless opportunity to correct any wrongs that haunt them.

 

The wrongs are slight in the eyes of many and would be in my eyes if my son were alive.  But what could have been learning experiences are now my nightmares.  I could say that those episodes were part of life.  I might could even pride myself on my accomplishments as a parent, given myself credit for his wonderful outcome.

What do I credit myself for now?  That he didn’t live?  That it didn’t turn out the way I had planned when he was born?  Do I give myself credit for any of the good things I did?  No, I can’t remember many.  What stands out in my mind are regrets, the things I wish I could do-over.  If only I would have known that each day was a blessing.  Each minute was priceless.  Each smile was a gift from heaven.  Each tooth lost was a step toward adulthood and ever closer to the orthodontist’s office.

I can only hope that he hears me and believes me when I say, “I’m sorry, Rick” and I can only hope that he knew how much I loved him because there are no do-overs in my life regarding my son.  I asked myself daily,

“DID I LOVE HIM ENOUGH?”