Wednesday, August 31, 2011

I WAS ONCE YOU

By Colleen Fledderman, Newtown Square, PA, Bereaved Mother

I have never met Christa McCaulife's mom, Carlie Brucia’s mother, Nicole Brown Simpson’s mother, Polly Klass’s mother, Princess Dianna’s mother, Carolyn Bessette Kennedy’s mother, Laci Peterson’s mother. But I know them all intimately. I know what dwells in their hearts and souls everyday. Like them I buried my daughter.

What am I now? Am I a daughterless mother? That sounds like an oxymoron, two words that contradict themselves. My eighteen year old daughter, Amy Marie, died on May 25, 2001. My life is forever changed. Burying a daughter is a surreal experience.

There are no words in Webster’s Dictionary that can explain the grief, the heartache, the pain, the depression or the anguish. Heartbroken is too small a word. The words don’t exist because it is not supposed to happen. There are no plausible definitions that could accurately describe “bereaved parent.” Groups of words can’t be strung together on a typed page to accurately explain the grief. It is impossible to bury your child, yet it happened.

Logically, the factual part of my brain processed the information. The emotional part of my brain argues with the fact everyday. Each and every morning it is still a shock to my entire being! I still peek into her bedroom and expect to find her perfectly made bed a mess of jumbled covers with my daughter snuggled deep inside of them. Parents don’t bury children! Headstones read “loving mother,” “cherished wife.” They don’t read “beloved daughter.” That is not the natural order of the universe. This was not supposed to happen to me. It always happens to other people.

I see reports on the evening news, articles in the newspaper describing horrible events that resulted in the death of someone’s child. It isn’t supposed to be my child. How can this be? It can’t be changed. I can’t say, “Amy, want to go to the mall?” “Let’s go out to lunch.” She can’t tell me about her “freaking bio test” that she has to study for all night long.

Things I want to say to her are forever left unspoken. How will I go on? I can’t go on, yet I do. My body wakes up each day. I don’t ask for this to happen, it just does. My lungs take in air, it is automatic, something that I have no control over. My physical body now controls the course of events in my life. I breath, I eat, I walk, I talk, I put one foot in front of the other. I load the washer and shop for food. I can work. I can teach. I can think on the job about the job. My spiritual being merely exists. It cannot flourish or soar ever again.

When my daughter died, my emotional self was buried with her. When she died, I also buried her future husband to be, my future grandchildren, my daughter’s future wedding, my daughter’s college graduation ceremony, my holiday, my joy. I buried my best friend. I buried the once perfect life that I knew and lived everyday. Tucked into the corner of Amy’s casket is my happy husband. My despondent bereaved husband now lives with me. I buried my fifteen year old daughter’s future matron of honor. I buried Renee’s future nieces and nephews. There is not enough room in Amy’s casket for all the things that died with her. Dreams, hopes, joys, lives, emotions, hearts and souls slipped into that casket with Amy. They occupy every square inch of that place. One day my fifteen year old daughter will be older than her older sister. Can my brain every understand that? Renee will have a nineteenth birthday. Amy did not. How can the impossible happen?

Bereaved parents go on. We go on because we have no other road to travel. It is just we are not “normal” anymore. We used to be you. We used to be the PTO moms and the Girl Scout leaders. We brought lovely frilly fancy holiday dresses for our daughters. We were once carpool moms and soccer moms. We sat at musical recitals and listened to the first melodious squeaks and squawks of their instruments. Forgotten homework assignments were rushed to school for our children. In our heads we planned our beautiful daughter’s future wedding. Vision of the bridal gown and the reception danced in our heads. We couldn’t wait to have grandchildren and baby-sit and enjoy. We wanted to tell our daughters that their children were just like them. Our daughter’s christening gown is carefully preserved and awaiting to be worn by her own children. We wanted to hold our grandchildren’s chubby little fingers in our hands and remember holding our daughters chubby little fingers in our hand.

We used to answer the telephone and hear, “Hey mom, what’s up?” Now the phone doesn’t ring. And it will never ring again with that sweet voice we so desperately would love to hear. Now we are set apart. We are not normal anymore. People choose to walk down a different aisle to ignore us. It is too painful for them to think about our lives. They might take a moment to wonder how we go on. They say, “I can only imagine your pain.” That is not true. No one can imagine it unless they live it. We now belong to a new group. We never wanted to be a part of this group, bereaved parents. No one lines up for this membership. We wish our membership would never grow.

I am glad you are not me.

Monday, August 29, 2011

SPECIAL PRAYER REQUEST FOR DON FLOYD & FAMILY

Special request for prayers for Don Floyd who is in ICU at Lake Havasu Regional Hospital and for Joyce, Don's wife and our dear sister in grief who founded our Mom's Group an Don &Joyce's entire family that God will give them the strength to face this current challenge.

Please also pray that Don will heal and come home to enjoy more time with his family, who are all in LHC to help Joyce..

This poem was posted in Don’s caring bridge update by his loving daughter Donna, whom we’ve all come to know and love as the “middle child”…


The Oak Tree
'A mighty wind blew night and day.
It stole the oak tree's leaves away,
Then snapped its boughs and pulled its bark
Until the oak was tired and stark.
But still the oak tree held its ground
While other trees fell all around.
The weary wind gave up and spoke,
"How can you still be standing, Oak?"
The oak tree said, "I know that you
Can break each branch of mine in two,
Carry every leaf away,
Shake my limbs, and make me sway.
But I have roots stretched in the earth,
Growing stronger since my birth.
You'll never touch them, for you see...........
They are the deepest part of me.
Until today, I wasn't sure
Of just how much I could endure............
But now I've found, with thanks to you......
I'm stronger than I ever knew."


Thank your for your faithful, faithful prayers, we feel the power of them every moment. Your love and freindship are a blessing to each of us. In the words of our friend Carla Garretson:


"As long as there is breath, there is hope."

Saturday, August 27, 2011

Happy Birthday In Heaven Bobby

Hope you won't mind, but today is our son Bobby's birthday - he would have been 38 and he's spending his second birthday in heaven.. Happy Birthday Bobby and to all the children in heaven - Cherie Houtson..



HAPPY BIRTHDAY IN HEAVEN BOBBY

Know that you’re loved and thought of each day
As you celebrate your 38th birthday in a very different way
Yes this year you’ll celebrate in heaven with your sisters and Nana Mae
While we celebrate here, please know how much we wish you’d have stayed

Yes 38 years ago you arrived on a Monday at four thirty six, mid-afternoon
At St. Paul’s in Dallas, Texas ~ just a little too soon
A healthy five pounds though, how happy you made us
Finally a baby we could take home, so we left in a rush

Despite how much I miss you, and I do more than I can say
The moment I’m with your boys, I see you in every way
It’s so much fun to watch them - they have your best parts
The twinkle in your eyes, your wit and great charm
Are no doubt Dylan and Justin, they both have your warm heart

Oh how I pray, you rest in peace, are free and happy
No more pain or heartache, tough decisions, yes life can be crappy
So watch over us all, our own guardian dear
As we allow you to rest, help our tears and sadness disappear

There’s no doubt just how much, your boys miss you each day
Can you see how they’ve grown, as they play in these waves
How many times did you play here under this very same tree
Yes should be here in Newport, but it wasn’t meant to be

Did you get their balloons - even the butterfly they set free...

So as each wave comes crashing, and tears continue to pour
Just waiting o’er the horizon, just on a distant shore..
I believe in my heart that Mildred knew of what he spoke..
Yes, just over the horizon, out of view, that’s where you are
We know you’re watching over us, he's right-heaven’s not far

Until we meet again my son, find peace, sleep well my child

Mom and all your family & friends - We love you
Happy Birthday in Heaven Bobby


August 27, 1973 - September 19, 2009

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Feeling overwhelmed and out of control" It's OK - it's normal..

by Cherie Houston

When we first learn our child has died and all our dreams for the future for them are gone, no matter their age or the circumstances, our bodies and minds go into a protective mode. Some call it total numbness or shock, but no matter what it is called, it's normal..

That state of shock or numbness is what allows us the time we need to get through those first days, weeks and months. You may or many not remember some or all of those first days, and that too is OK – in time you may.

As the initial shock and numbness begins to fade, you may not recognize what you feel – you may simply feel overwhelmed and confused and again, that’s OK and very normal. It is impossible to love someone as much as we love our children – from the moment we realize we will be bringing life into this world or for those children who may be well into adulthood, middle age themselves or even older – they are still our children… So it is impossible to say goodbye and not feel overwhelmed, confused and much much more - the list of emotions you will feel is very long...

It's not healthy to bottle these feelings up – they are all normal and if you do try to avoid them or suppress them, you may find yourself feeling even more out of control and experts say that trying to avoid or suppress the grief, most will significantly impact their own health in a very negative way...

For many of us, we might find ourselves lashing out at others when we don’t mean to or that we explode at the simplest deviation from the normal. Nothing is normal as we knew it before our child's death anymore... But remember, during the grieving process, our bodies and minds are almost like a steaming tea kettle or pressure cooker and the variety of feelings and emotions we experience create an immense physical amount of pressure - some refer to it as the "pressure cooker effect". All of these feelings need to be released so that we don’t continue in the frustrating cycle of exploding, being upset by our explosions, building up pressure, and exploding again and again.

Here are some ways you can put some motion to your emotions:


  • Acknowledge how much your grief hurts. There is no denying it or ignoring it. Try to live through it, not avoid it. By acknowledging the pain of grief, you heal the hurting. How do you do this? Tell a trusted friend what it feels like. Write it down in a note to yourself. Share what you are experiencing with a counselor or minister or support group. Say it to yourself. Notice what hurts you. Don’t try to figure it out or make it make sense; just notice it.


  • Acknowledge your expectations of yourself and others. Make sure you understand what others expect of you and be equally clear in stating your own expectations. Don’t put added pressures on yourself by demanding more than you are able to do. For instance, acknowledge that you expect to be distracted and less efficient at work. Let others know that you intend to make time to walk every other day. Be clear that you may not host the next family festivity because you just don’t want to take on all that extra work right now.


  • Find appropriate outlets for the energy that anger gives you. Pound a pillow, weed a garden, yell in the shower, hit golf balls. Lock yourself in your car and scream as loudly as you want to. Hit something soft, and hit it hard. Bang on a piano. Draw a wild picture. Throw things. Have a water fight with a friend. Sounds silly, but trust me - it helps..


  • Writing down your thoughts and feelings might help. Don’t get uptight about keeping a journal; only keep a journal if you enjoy that. Otherwise, simply jot down your feelings. You don’t even have to use complete sentences if you don’t want to. If you make notes every day, it will encourage you to go back in several weeks and read them and see how far you have come.


  • Initially, many of us can't even bear to hear our child’s name or look at their pictures or favorite things without falling apart completely - for others, those things are all we want.. But no matter how you feel initially, there will come a time when those "memories" will warm your heart, so don't get rid of them... When you are ready, consider creating a memory book, a memory box, memory quilt or other special way to keep your memories together to visit in the future.. when you are ready.. At first you might not be able to do this, but little by little as you run across things that are special to you and your child, have a place to store them, so when you are ready, you can hold them once again and smile… You might include special photographs, mementos, letters and bits and pieces of your loved one’s life that remind you of the joy you shared. Ask others to share their memories with you as well. In fact, ask someone to help you gather and organize these things; this kind of task might be overwhelming to you without someone’s help.

    Remember – grief is the price we pay for loving someone – so it’s not a bad thing, it's normal… We all grieve differently – there are no right and wrong ways to grieve and there is no time limit or natural progression no matter what you might have been told. We each grieve differently and we grieve differently for different people in our lives that we love - our parents, siblings, relatives, friends and the worst grief of all is that for our children, because it defies all that we believe to be normal - we should never outlive our children. But some of us will and have.

    Be gentle and patient with yourself and those around you… And remember, you will get through this, one small step at a time…

Saturday, August 20, 2011

Grief can strengthen parents relationships

Despite old rumors that relationships can't survive the death of a child, recent studies indicate just the opposite. A recent study shows that the death of a child actually appears to draw bereaved parents together as they travel life's grief journey." (Source: "When a Child Dies" - survey for The Compassionate Friends Inc, October 2006).

This is good news, but don't misunderstand - staying together isn't something that is necessarily easy.. Without question, staying together takes a lot of effort on both sides and in many different ways. However, there are some common areas that can be worked on to help ensure that despite the tragedy you are facing, your relationship will strengthen - not fall apart...

Communication. This is perhaps the most important area. Keep talking - tell each other how you feel, listen to what the other person says, express your love for each other regularly. When you feel that sharp stabbing pain of loss - tell your partner. When you remember something about your child - tell your partner. When you have found something encouraging or caring that someone has said - tell your partner. And when your partner tells you something - listen (and show that you really are listening)!

Give each other space. This may seem strange in the light of the comments above. One of the things many couples find in the weeks and months after their child's death is that they couldn't always be the support that the other person needed. Yes there will be those times when one of you is up and the other is down and so the one who is “up” can give the love and care that was needed. But when you are both down, and that will happen, neither of you may be strong enough to provide the support needed, and that’s when tensions become more evident and you have to give each other a few minutes' space. Often times taking a short 'time out' is helpful and can help make your relationship stronger.

Recognise your differences. You are both different people and will grieve in different ways. What is important to one person may seem trivial to the other. It is vital that you each recognise the other person's views and needs as being valid. Don't think that because they aren't acting in the same way or holding the same opinion as you that they didn't love your child as much.

Remain affectionate. The area of sexual intimacy is one where needs and desires may vary. Charlotte M Mathes, a psychoanalyst and member of the American Association of Marriage and Family Therapists, expresses the difference between men and women very helpfully - "Commonly, men feel loved when they feel they are valued. Women feel love when they are shown compassion. Sex plays a very unique role with each gender. Men often need sex to feel loved by their wife while women may feel that sex is wrong after such a loss, but their need to touch may become more prominent." Try to remain affectionate, reassure each other of your love. Be patient with each other - you will in time find a place again for the physical side of your relationship.

Don't blame each other. Anger is a natural part of grieving, but it is important not to aim that anger at your partner. You may at times find that you are more easily hurt by insensitive words, so do take extra care that the phrases you use to each other don't convey blame. Phrases such as "I feel sad when you ..." (said gently) rather than "you really upset me when you..." (said in a harsher tone) can avoid aggravating raw emotions and provide better paths to good communication.

Seek outside help. For both of you, being able to talk to someone who isn't so closely involved, who will understand and listen, can be a real help. This might be a close friend, a support group such as Journey from Mourning, Compassionate Friends, Bereaved Parents' Network, your minister, priest or rabbi, a professional counsellor or your doctor. It is important that you both have someone you can turn to. Women often finder it easier to talk, but for men this can be a challenge, but most parents find that being able to turn to someone they trust was a real life-saver.

There are no quick fixes. But in time you will find yourselves more able to cope and even to laugh and find ways of enjoying life together again. Be assured that your relationship can survive and can grow even stronger!

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

HOPE

~ Margaret Gerner, Bereaved Mother and Bereaved Grandmother, St. Louis, MO

I sat down regularly to read the many newsletters that I receive from the chapters across the county. Most of the time there were articles in them that made me cry a little.

I read about children who are dead and parents who were hurting, but never did I come away from those reading sessions depressed.

I came away with hope, hope that the searing torment does lessen and eventually give
way to warm, loving memories of our child.

When we are in the deepest throes of our grief, when our beloved child has just recently been snatched from life by a tragic accident or succumbed to a fatal illness, or died in some other way, can we believe we can ever be happy again? When to simply get up in the morning is a major accomplishment, can we believe that we will ever be able to function with enthusiasm or purpose?

When every thought of our children brings excruciating pain, can we believe that we will someday be able to think of him/her and smile? I know it is hard to believe that this will ever happen, but it will.

Words used in defining HOPE are expect, trust, anticipate, wish, desire and confident. These are the key words.

If we expect, trust and anticipate feeling better, we will in time.

If we wish it and are confident, the day will come when we will feel better. Of course, it doesn’t just happen. It takes long hard grief work. It takes many painful hours of allowing ourselves to go through our grief.

It takes patience and it takes time. But know you will come to the light at the end of the tunnel.

Know that there is hope. Know that many many bereaved parents who have been in the
same painful place that you are now have found life meaningful again.

Know that you will too

Friday, August 12, 2011

Aftermath

AFTERMATH

By Madeline Sharples

They came in droves at first
Out of concern, out of curiosity
They sent flowers, cards
And sweet notes saying
Call anytime
Anytime at all.

Now it is quiet.
A few friends
Invite us out,
Or come by
The rest have moved on
Glad to have done their duty
They now have nothing left to say.

Don’t they know I’m not contagious
My son’s death will not rub off on them
I’m the same person I was before.
A sadder person, perhaps
But needing my friends
Just the same.



Reprinted from “We Need Not Walk Alone” Summer 2001

Monday, August 8, 2011

Time heals what reason cannot

~ By Pat Schwiebert, TCF, Portland, Oregon

In the end, time will chage 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 onew 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 withsomeone, 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 start to re-emerge, and life on this planet will once again seem possible. This will not happen because we come to understand the deathmore 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 a fresh wave of grief at any time. 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.

Thursday, August 4, 2011

Create a Memory Book Class at Mohave Community College

This fall, members of our Mom’s Group in Lake Havasu City, AZ will have a chance to create their own Memory Book as a lasting legacy to their child/children who have died.

I will be hosting an 8 hour class at the Lake Havasu City, Mohave Community College campus, where I teach during 2 - four (4) hour classes 9am-1pm on Saturday mornings, October 29th and November 5th. MCC has donated my classroom for our use, so that the 8 hr. class can be free for up for up to 20 our of Journey from Mourning mom’s who would like to create a memory book.

Start collecting the photo's and keepsakes now that you would like to use in your book - if you only have the actual photos, you will learn how to scan the photos and keepsakes so that they will be in digital format on your computers - if you have the photos or keepsakes on a CD or DVD, flash drive or portable hard drive, than they are ready to be used in your book, so bring those with you.

Seats will be available on a first-come, first serve basis... so let me know if you would like us to hold a spot for you... email me at cherie_houston@hotmail.com or momsgriefsupport@gmail.com

Dates are: Saturday morning 9am-1pm on October 29th and November 5th at Mohave Community College, Room #501 - Lake Havasu City, AZ campus.

We will remind you again later this month via an email, but are hoping you will begin to think of what you would like to include in your memory book.....