It will never be the same...

Unrealistically we hope that things will somehow be the same…that our life – our family – will get back to “normal”  As time goes on, we realize that “it will never be the same.”  We will always miss our loved one who has died.  At special holidays and family gatherings, there is always one person missing.  Some family members and friends assume that we are back to normal.  They just do not understand.

Once the horrific initial shock and sense of total denial of the initial few months begin to pass, the enormous and sad reality begins to become clear and for most of us, that is the time that seems the most difficult.  Our grief seems unbearable and we wonder if our heartache and sorrow is our new reality.  But life does go on and we don’t have a choice – we will and must go through this. 

What seems to complicate our grief is that once a few months have passed, many of those around us – our friend, co-workers and even family members, feel we are “getting better” and “moving on” but we know that’s so far from the truth – we are simply surviving and existing or when we don’t “get over it quickly enough” many people who we assumed would be there for us, pull away out f their own frustration of no knowing how and what to do to help us.  This is so common.  It is believed that this can be attributed in part to a general lack of knowledge of what grief is, leading to unrealistic expectations being placed on those who are grieving.  Sometimes it is helpful to communicate about our loss with someone new, since some old friends often just want us to return to our old selves again, which is unrealistic on their part.

So many times during the first year of mourning, especially following the holidays or anniversary of the death, those around us, as well as those of us who are grieving, may expect that everything will finally be OK and get better…  Be careful not to expect too much; because if and when things don’t magically “get better” many become discouraged.  There is and never will be a timetable for grief – it is different for each and every person on this journey and different for each and every time the journey is made…  So be gentle with yourself and those around you..  It’s best not to have unrealistic expectations and remind yourself over and over again, there is no timetable for grief.. 

~~ Author Unknown

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

Angel Moms

~ Written by “Shane’s Mom” Judi Walker

Judi began a group called “Angel Mom’s” after the death of her son Shane
Dedicated to all moms who have lost a child

ANGEL MOMS 

We have shared our tears and our sorrow,
We have given encouragement to each other,
Given hope for a brighter tomorrow,
We share the title of grieving mother.

Some of us lost older daughters or sons,
Who we watched grow over the years,
Some have lost their babies before their lives begun,
But no matter the age, we cry the same tears.

We understand each others pain,
The bond we share is very strong,
With each other there is no need to explain,
The path we walk is hard and long.

Our children brought us together,
They didn't want us on this journey alone,
They knew we needed each other,
To survive the pain of them being gone.

So take my hand my friend,
We may stumble and fall along the way,
But we'll get up and try again,
Because together we can make it day by day.

We can give each other hope,
We'll create a place where we belong,
Together we will find ways to cope,
Because we are Angel Moms and together we are strong!

~ Written by “Shane’s Mom” Judi Walker

Judi began a group called “Angel Mom’s” after the death of her son Shane
Dedicated to all moms who have lost a child

FINDING INNER STRENGTH AND PEACE

I believe I’ve shared this article before.. and I hope you find it helpful.  About 6 months after my son Bobby died, a close friend shared this article with me – with a simple note that read “I pray that you will allow God to help you find peace and joy in Bobby’s memory”. 

When she sent me the note, I still couldn’t bring myself to even think about God or spirituality in anyway.  Quite honestly my fear was that if I did think about God, my anger would take me to a place I might never be able to return from…  after all, Bobby was my third child that I had buried.  No parent should ever have to bury one child, never mind three…But yet I had – and I was angry!!!

I knew from past experience with my daughters who had died very young, that I would physically survive this nightmare (even though I didn’t want to) and that in time I would find an inner peace and my spirituality, but this article allowed me to remind myself of that fact.

I admit that I still find it very difficult going into any church, catholic or otherwise…Even for joyous celebrations such as christenings, first communions and weddings.. The moment I enter any church I find myself reflecting on Bobby’s mass, the loss of my three children and I feel as though I’m suffocating and find it hard to catch my breath or stop the tears…

But outside of those building, my own sense of peace, inner strength and spirituality has returned as I knew it would…  I’m not angry with God or anyone, I’m simply grateful for the time I had with my three children, no matter how brief, and for all that they left behind in the lives they touched…  This doesn’t come overnight – Bobby will be gone 4 years on September 19^th and I still have days that shake me to the core..  but in time the pain softens and the peace returns… I hope that all parents who make this unfathomable journey can find their own inner strength and peace and smile for what they had, no matter how brief…Cherie Houston

Can Time Heal? Finding Inner Strength and Peace

~ By Cheril Goodrich

There is a belief that time heals all wounds. The premise of this belief is that the further you get away from an event in time the less the pain is felt that is associated with the event. From a Spiritual standpoint, is this true?

First of all to examine this concept, we must first address the idea of time. For something to be healing at a true Spiritual level it must involve a healing idea or, in other words, it must promote healing by offering an idea that can heal. Does time offer this? Is it possible for a non-feeling, non-caring idea, such as time, to give soothing to the soul when something happens that seems so catastrophic we do not have any idea how we can move beyond our pain? If all we have to look forward to is relief from a non-feeling source such as time, this calls into question our relationship to our Creator because, from this premise, time offers us a better way of healing. Perhaps this is not true at all. Perhaps we do not understand the provisions that God has provided for us when we are in such pain and so we rely on what we know. By relying on what we know we are apt to just make it through anyway we can. This does not necessarily heal the pain and some people go on for years not understanding how to move on.

Sometimes we have to find a miracle to move on. This involves finding a strength that does not come from us. If it came from us we would know how to handle the misery. Instead it involves finding a place in our own mind where time does not rule. Finding this place means finding a place of peace that exists within all of us. We all have access to this state because we were created with this fail-safe sanctuary, but we have forgotten how to access it and use it. This state of mind is our solution, but until we remember that it is there, and appreciate it, we will turn to what we know.

We are living in perilous times. We are not being asked to heal the world, just ourselves of the internal pain and conflict that seems to be endless. How can peace come to the world if we cannot even find peace within our own mind? If we are not responsible for ourselves, then who is? If I blame another or blame circumstances that seem to be beyond my control, then I am a victim, and someone else controls my life. This is not the role God would have us play.

Look for the solution in any circumstance that seems to be beyond your control. For every problem there is a solution. By concentrating only on the problem, the solution is removed from you by your own desire. By looking for and reaching for the solution, your mind will remember how to access the part of the mind where God abides. No one can do this for us, it is an individual choice that remains open to us, but is not evident unless we search for it.

There is another way. The answer does not lie in time or in another idea that has been born in time. It is in our own mind. By learning to access and using another level of mind, we can heal not only ourselves, but also the world because accessing this part of our mind joins us with something Greater than ourselves. Learn to be a part of the healing force that will move the world beyond any perceived conflict. It all begins by learning to become master of your own mind.

TEARS, TALK, TIME, AND TOMORROWS

Lovingly written By Debbie Landsman

TEARS, TALK, TIME, AND TOMORROWS

I never thought I could go on living when you died, but…….I did.

I never thought I would survive after burying you, but……I did.

I never thought I’d get through those first days, weeks, months, but…….I did.

I never thought I’d be able to endure the first anniversary of your death, but….I did.

I never thought I’d let myself love my new grandchild, but…..I have.

I never thought tomorrow would be different, but…….it was.

I never thought I’d stop crying for a day, but…….I have.

I never thought the pain would ‘soften’, but…… it has.

I never thought I’d care if the sun shone again, but……I do.

I never thought I’d ever entertain again, but….I have.

I never thought I’d be able to control my grief, but…..I can.

I never thought I could function without medication again, but…..I can.

I never thought I could function without medication again, but…..I can.

I never thought I’d smile again, but…..I do.

I never thought I’d laugh out loud again, but…..I do.

I never thought I’d look forward to tomorrow, but…..I do.

I never thought I’d reconcile your death, but…..I have.

I never thought I’d be able to create that ‘new normal’, but I have.

I never thought I’d be able to go on living after you died, but…..I do…….

Always missing you, always loving you, and thinking of you daily with a smile on my face….

And tears on my heart.

Summertime

~ by Sascha Wagner, TCF, Siskiyou County, CA

It sounds so easy. A soft, warm word—-time to run barefoot, time to leave windows open all night.  Summertime. Somehow it seems, doesn't it, that it's especially meant for children. Children on beaches, children on swings, children in large pools, children in tiny tubs.

We who do not have all of our children with us may feel the summertime in two ways. 

One is to

remember shared events and adventures-there were so many. Long rides in a hot car, a nap in

the back seat. The famous question, "Are we there yet?" Everything from a heat rash to ice cream cones and sand castles.  

For us, another way to feel summertime is the special emptiness brought about by children who are no longer on this earth. They used to trot along on hikes in the hills; they used to gather wood for an evening fire. Now summer brings us again the melancholy awareness of their absence.

Have you ever walked on some unfamiliar path, surprised about not having been there with the

children? Even when there's nothing to remember, we are reminded of the children's absence.

We have been diminished by death. Some of us may still have living children. Other parents have no children left. They have lost an only child, perhaps. Or all of their children died. And here we are, grateful for the warmth of summer mornings, aware of the ripe beauty of nature, trying to deal with our children's absence with all the grace of which we are capable. Often we do not want to burden others with our grief. Or we may be convinced that others don't wish to share our distress.

We have learned, after all, that the world around us is not always able to understand how we feel. Besides, we were taught to be brave. Many of us will do everything we can to appear "normal" after our loss. But we were also taught to be honest. And when you feel the hurt, when you seem almost to be lost in the shadows of this golden summertime, don't hide your sorrow. The grief of your spirit can perhaps be kept a secret on the outside. Yet, your deepest feelings, unexpressed, can burn into your existence with harmful force.

You can be both brave and honest. You know that it's brave to share grief, be it old grief or new grief. And revealing that sorrow is also honest. Of course, nothing can wipe away much of your pain, but sharing grief is helpful. You will know that after you have expressed the painful sorrow you once kept hidden, and you find yourself, finally, smiling at the memories and the blessings of past summertimes.

Enjoying our blessings vs. focusing on what we've lost...

~~by Cherie Houston

I want to share with you a comment I read in the spring of 2010, just months after my son Bobby died. A student of mine sent me the link, recommending that I read an article she'd read which she felt might help me with my grief journey..The following “comment” was written about this specific article - the article itself was written by Meagan Francis, on her website: www.thehappiestmom.com

Meagan Francis's article on June 1st, 2010 was titled: “Going On Living After A Child Has Died” a subject we all know and understand only too well.... please read it if you get a chance...

Anyway - after I read her article, I continued on and read many of the comments that were posted.  Most of the comments voiced overwhelming fear and tremendous gratitude that they, the person writing the comment, had never experienced this horrific event of losing a child themselves. But the following comment touched my heart – it made me realize just how important it is for each of us who have lost a child to continue on, to enjoy life and celebrate the life of our child who has died – but just as importantly, it reminded me of how, the way in which we continue on, can and does affect those we love who are still with us. Thank you Michelle P for your honesty and words of wisdom…I have the following comment printed and by my computer to continually remind me of the importance of living and enjoying each and every member of my family who are alive and well..something I was losing sight of...

Despite my love for my three angel children, I admit I am not ready to join them ~ instead I hope that I can and will keep their memories alive by living each and every day to the fullest and seeing the beauty and blessings of all that I have, which includes my amazing family: the most wonderful husband a woman could ask for, 2 wonderful sons; 2 wonderful step-sons, 5 beautiful daughter-in-laws and 10 (soon to be 11) amazing grandchildren!!!  I try to focus each & every day on the positive, instead of concentrating on that which I’ve lost..  I truly hope this comment will help you just a little…

Michelle P on June 1, 2010 at 8:02 pm

Denise Schipani expressed it perfectly: “You go on, but you take a wildly different path.” If we are the sum total of our experiences – and losing a child is surely one of the most traumatic experiences I’ve ever witnessed – then what actually happens to parents in these circumstances is not only unknowable, it’s unimaginable.

I watched my parents deal with the accidental death of my younger brother (he drowned at the age of 19), through the months when they were literally sick with grief, and the eight years since. They (as am I) are forever changed by his death but not necessarily in a negative or even regrettable way. And that’s because (and I’m not sure how to say this right) it’s not only in death that we were changed: that change actually began with his life – the fact that he died is only one aspect of who he was, just as the fact that my mother is not just a person who lost a son, she is a person who HAD a son for 19 years. And after working (and it really WAS work) through their grief, my parents choose to go on living full and even healthier lives partly as a celebration of his life. They see it as his inheritance, as something he’s given back to them, a way to make sense of his death – it gives even more meaning to their lives, to their identities as parents (because you don’t stop being a parent when your child dies).

I am incredibly proud of my parents for this: it is not only one of the bravest decisions they have ever taken, but it means that I have not lost them along with the future I would have had my brother.