In Memory of You - Happy 40th Birthday to my son

40 Years ago today, my son Robert (Bobby) W. Wood was born to our family, joining his big brother Ric who was 2 1/2 years older.. Bobby was born at St. Paul's Hospital in Dallas, Texas at 4:36pm ..  Bobby was often teased that he was our replacement child and maybe in some ways he was.. Bobby was born a little more than a year after our daughter Robin Marie had died and 2 years after Ric's twin, our first daughter Randee Marie had died..  Thank God we didn't know, that shortly after Bobby's 36th birthday, which we celebrated at our home with his wife and children, that on September 19th, 2009 he would choose to end his life - leaving his wife Jennifer and  beautiful little boys, who were only 5 & 6 at the time and countless family and friends who loved him.....

Next month we will celebrate that 4th memorial anniversary with a memorial mass, a tradition observed by the Catholic Church and something we arranged would be done for the first 5 years after his death..  But quite honestly, not a tradition I will carry on after next year (and one I truly wish I had not begun)..  I don't want to remember the day he died, or for that matter the months leading up to his death.

No, instead as of today, it is today that I will remember and all the days, months and years that came after his birth...I need to remember his life - all the happy wonderful times - those 13,172 days that he was with us - making us smile, making memories and being part of our family....  That is the tradition that I vow to celebrate & memorialize in the years to come...  So Happy 40th Birthday in Heaven in Bobby.. we love and miss you very much and and this "Is in Memory of You"... XXOO Your Mom, Cherie Houston

In Memory Of You

~ by  M.S. Lowndes

We want to always remember

The beautiful life you lived

And keep alive the memories we have

Through remembering what you did

For you're so special to all of us

A wonderful person indeed

Your love, laughter and warm smile

Reflected a heart that believed

Just in the everyday things we do

We remember your faith and love

In the words you spoke to help us through

Is a continued reminder for us

Although we miss you so very much

We know we'll see you once more

For this is the hope we have in God

Being re-united in the Lord

And as we gather we'll continue to share

Special times we went through

For these are memories that warm our hearts

As we honor the memory of you

I Wouldn't Trade the Pain.....for the Dance

By Cherie Houston

No matter how strong typical pain is, it is usually something can we can’t truly recall... Oh we certainly can remember that the pain was uncomfortable and that we hurt and that we may not want to feel it again, such as the intense pain or a broken bone, or very bad back, or having a heart attack or debilitating migraine, or even the pain often experienced by childbirth, which many of us knows totally disappears when our new infant looks at us.. No we may remember that the pain was uncomfortable, but the memory doesn't put us back in that place, we simply remember that it hurt!.

I have found, however that the pain of grief is very different. For those of us who have lost a child or children, the tragedy of another’s child death – whether a child we know or not, can bring us to our knees and truly put us back into that sense of loss and overwhelming helplessness of those first few days weeks and months.  I’m sure it’s a deep empathy for the other parents, knowing that the pain of grief of losing a child is a pain that no one should ever have to experience....

But I've also found that when I learn of a death of someone I know (or tragedies such as Columbine, the movie theater in Colorado, Sandy Hook last December –the never ending list sadly, or for people who've shared parts of our lives ~ such as yesterday when we learned of the passing of a dear old friend, Bill, who shared all the typical things like boy scouting, sports and chaperoning other school events when together we were raising our young families; or that of a young 74 year old student Ellen, who died unexpectedly last week.  I had been blessed to have shared my knowledge with Ellen and her sister for almost a dozen years.. the sadness and tears came quickly when I learned of both Ellen and Bill's death, but what has been more overwhelming is the pain of grief, my sense of pain and helplessness for what their families are and will go thru; knowing that there is nothing that can be said or done for them that will ease their heartache...that is a pain that does come back and feels as strong as I remember it when I first began my own Journey from Grief...

I’ve learned that the Journey of Grief is something we must all go thru on our own terms and in our own way-no one can do it for us.  Help from those around us with mundane but necessary chores, such as shopping and meals, daily errands, answering the phone, house and yard work are certainly appreciated and helped (although most of us can rarely remember who did what for us during those first several months-it’s all a blur).. 

We all experience the pain, and with time the pain soften – but that grief pain, like no other, can grab you again at any time when you least expect it and take your breath away...  but despite that pain and heartache, the tears and sense of loss that seems to never end, I wouldn't train a moment of that pain for the time with my three children, no matter how short - and I'm glad that Bill and Ellen shared parts of my life with me along the way... I wouldn't trade those memories for anything..  True if I'd not had my children, if I hadn't met Bill or Ellen or listened to the news about Columbine or Sandy Hook, then I wouldn't feel the pain, but then again I wouldn't trade any of it - I'm grateful for the time I had, and that their families had with them, and that we all "enjoyed the dance"..  Garth Brooks says it perfectly... in his song “The Dance”...

Looking back on the memory,

of the dance we shared, beneath the stars above.
For a moment all the world was right,

how was I to know that you'd ever say goodbye?
And now I'm glad I didn't know the way it all would end,

the way it all would go.
Our lives are better left to chance,

I could have missed the pain,

but I'd have had to miss the dance.

The Dance - (Garth Brooks) 

It Is Said That Time Heals What Reason Cannot..

~ Pat Schwiebert, TCF, Portland, Oregon

Time heals what reason cannot.

In the end, time will change things.  The intensity we experience when grief is new, where we can see nothing but our loss, and where every moment is filled with thoughts of the one who died will gradually diminish and become softer.  Time forces the big picture of life back into our vision whether we like it or not. 

This happens in our lives all the time.  Remember how when we first fell in love with someone, we were totally preoccupied with only that other person, until gradually a more balanced existence was restored.  Or when we did what we thought was some terrible thing, and we were sure everybody would never let us forget it, we came to find out a few months down the road that most people had forgotten the incident.

In the months (maybe years) following a loss, life will  eventually begin to re-emerge and life on this planet will once again seem possible.  This will not happen because we come to understand the death more clearly but because, with the passage of time, the unanswered questions will become easier to live with.

Time will not remove grief entirely.  The scars of grief will remain, and we may find ourselves ambushed by an unexpected pang or wave of grief at any time.. often times when you least expect it.  But needing to know the answers to the “why” questions won’t seem quite as important as it once was.

Time is a gift that we have taken for granted.  We’ve been given our lives one moment at a time.  This is good.

Moving on after losing a child

Thank you to Donna Berkamn from Kingman, Arizona for sharing this with our group back in the summer of 2010...  like so many articles that I've repeated, I think one helps to address the feeling each parent experiences of a loss so deep that we are never sure we will recover . but like the amputee who loses a limb, in order to survive we must learn to live without a part of us...

Moving on after losing a child

~ By Cathy Babao Guballa - October 29th, 2000 Issue
© 2000 Philippine Daily Inquirer

LOSING a child has been described as the worst kind of loss anyone could possibly go through, a searing and unspeakable pain. The emotions that accompany a loss of this magnitude is much like plumbing the depths of an abyss, not knowing if one will ever be able to climb out of it one day, unscathed and whole. 

When a child dies, a part of the self is cut off and many bereaved parents like to use the metaphor of an amputated limb.

I once read an account of a father who had lost his only son and his words were poignant. "For the amputee, the raw bleeding stump heals and the physical pain does not go away. But he lives with the pain in his heart knowing his limb will not grow back. He has to learn to live without it. He rebuilds his life around his loss. We bereaved parents must do the same."


From her website: http://www.missfoundation.org/cherish/movingon.html