Will it ever be the same again?

Sorry, but it can never be the same again...   (author unknown)

When a child of ours has died, or any one else whom we love for that matter, we hope and even pray 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.. 

One flaw in Women (worth repeating from May 2010)

I want to again thank Shaundra Cassidy in Parker, AZ who sent this when we first began the blog in the fall of 2009 and I posted it in May 2010 for the first time...  definitely worth repeating from time to time.. Cherie Houston

God doesn't give us the people we want; He gives us the people we NEED... to help us, to hurt us, to leave us, to love us and to make us into the person we were meant to be. 

ONE FLAW IN WOMEN  
Women have strengths that amaze men...
They bear hardships and they carry burdens, but they hold happiness, love and joy.
They smile when they want to scream and sing when they want to cry.
They cry when they are happy and laugh when they are nervous.
They fight for what they believe in and stand up to injustice.
They don't take "no" for an answer when they believe there is a better solution.
They go without so their family can have.
They go to the doctor with a frightened friend.
They love unconditionally.
They cry when their children excel and cheer when their friends get awards.
They are happy when they hear about a birth or a wedding.
Their hearts break when a friend dies.
They grieve at the loss of a family member,
yet they are strong when they think there is no strength left.
They know that a hug and a kiss can heal a broken heart.
Women come in all shapes, sizes and colors.
They'll drive, fly, walk, run or e-mail you to show how much they care about you.
The heart of a woman is what makes the world keep turning.
They bring joy, hope and love.
They have compassion and ideas.
They give moral support to their family and friends.
Women have vital things to say and everything to give.

However, If There Is One Flaw In Women,

It Is That They Forget Their Worth

It’s Important To Remind Yourself How Special You Are To So Many

When a child dies, what friends & family should not do....

The death of a child is very different from that of a parent, spouse or other family member or friend.  It is an overwhelming grief that no one should ever experience.  But the reality is, it happens, and when and if it does, it's often hard to know what you should or shouldn't do to help the grieving parents...  

 

 

 

We hope these helpful hints will give you some insight - remember they need your unconditional love, support and patience and not just immediately after the loss, but during the years ahead.. and also remember that no parent "gets over the death of their child" they simply learn to live with it... Cherie Houston 

 

 

How NOT To Help A Friend Whose Child Has Died... 

~ Author Unknown

• Don't be afraid of intruding. You're not.
• Don't be afraid of offering help with daily chores or things that need to be done-Grieving parents usually have no idea what they need, so take some initiative with meals, picking up other children from school, household chores and other errands .
• Don't avoid or ignore the grieving parents. They are already grieving a loss, and losing a friend or loved one only makes their grief worse..
• Don't leave when you become uncomfortable. It will only make your friend feel worse - guilty about their grief.
• Don't avoid talking to your friend because you don't know what to say.
• Do not EVER say, "It is for the best," even if you believe it. It is trite, unfair & very hurtful.
• Don't shirk on promises - if you've agreed to do something for the grieving family, failing at your responsibilities will feel like a bigger slap in the face.
• Don't be hurt if the grieving parents say something mean or hurtful. They're not quite themselves, which means they lash out. Be patient.
• Religion is a potentially explosive way to comfort. Unless you absolutely know 100% the person will be comforted by mentions of faith, don’t go there. Religion is a very complicated thing in the wake of a child’s death, and they may be angry at God or confused as to how to incorporate the death of a child into the religion that they have known to have their best interests in mind.
• Even if the grieving parents are intensely religious, they may be having a crisis of faith in the wake of a child’s death, and they could be angered/saddened by mention of religion.
• Especially stay away from, “God wanted her more than you,” or “God needed her more." I don’t care if it is the all powerful creator of the universe, you don’t tell any Mom or Dad that anyone wants their child more than they do.
• So many people hate seeing their loved ones in such pain and want to fix it. Consequently, they start talking about how you have to move on, that you will see them again, the child is with God, it will get better in time, etc. - all things they think will “fix it.” Don’t try to do this-believe me, those comments don't "fix" anything.
• Don't be afraid to bring up the lost child - the grieving parents will already be thinking of their child and talking about their child actually helps them in their grief..
• If your friend doesn't want to discuss their lost child or their feelings, accept that and move on to another topic.
• Don't say, "I know how you feel," because you do not. It minimizes the grief and grieving they're going through.
• Don't say, "I don't know how you do it." Your friend does it because he or she has to.
• Don't mention silver linings. That feels condescending and rude.
• Don't put a time-table on grief. No one knows how long it will take to grieve the loss of a child, so don't expect that your friend will simply "get over it" in a specific period of time. They won't.
• Don't refer to the child in impersonal ways - instead, use the child's name. It may feel uncomfortable to you, but it will remind your friend that the world has not, in fact, forgotten their lost child.
• Don't forget about the siblings of the lost child. Not only have they lost a brother or sister, they've lost their parents during the grieving process.
• Never discount your gut. If your friend seems to be suicidal or is beginning to isolate, seek professional help.
• Don't forget the anniversary dates - almost no one remembers the second anniversary of a child's death. This makes parents feel as though the world has forgotten their child and that only adds to their pain and heartache.
• Don’t be afraid to show emotion. Many people feel they have to be strong for their friends, that they can’t cry or show emotion. You can be strong AND be emotional. If tears come, don’t fight them. This shows your friends that you, too, are crushed and sad and lost

The Rushing River

These words were written by a Mother as she was attempting to comfort another newly bereaved Mother at the loss of her son. 

~written by JoAnn Farrell~

I thought this morning about where you are and where I am in all this.  I feel it’s like I’ve been thrown into a rushing river.  At first it is DARK and I can only come up for air enough to keep from dying.  Then as the days go on, I feel rocks or the bottom bumping against my feet, but I can’t get any footing.  I keep on going under, gasping for air, then for a moment my feet feel the bottom and I can brace myself for a few moments.  Each time this happens, I can stand longer, but each time I get swept off my feet again.  

Then I notice each time that I stand, I can take a step toward the shore.  I am going to get pulled under a lot of times before I reach the shore, but I will make it…..I have to.  If not for me……for my family.  The one thing that I don’t know, is do I ever get to step out of the river?  I have a feeling that I will always walk along the shore with water to my ankles, occasionally falling into a hole.  Because I will never not miss my son.  But I will be able to stand and breathe.  

I am sure that I will fall into a deep hole occasionally as I walk the bank of the river, but God will take my hand and help me out.  I will be able to feel joy again…..love again….and do the things that God has for me to do.

I would guess that you are still gasping for breath…..and I am beginning to feel some footing.  We will make it…..it is just hard swallowing so much water…..and I miss my baby.

                                                                    

The Holiday Army

~ by Andrea Gambill

Here it comes again — the Holiday Army — in its annual march against us. Some of its generals are called "Thanksgiving," "Christmas," "Hanukah," "New Year’s Eve" and "New Year’s Day." They are no respecters of the heartbroken and emotionally wounded, and their troops are merciless. They take no prisoners! They demand that we participate in their joy and nostalgia or they will mow us down with their militant tanks of holiday spirit.

Actually, we wish them well. All we really want is for them to leave us alone and let us mourn in peace and quiet. We prefer our “Silent Nights” to their “Deck the Halls” and Jingle Bells.” We don’t intentionally spoil their fun, it’s just that our pain makes them uncomfortable. They’ve been conditioned to believe that “The Holiday Season” should have no blemish of suffering or lack of frivolity. We must not only bandage our wounds while in their presence, but cover them with taffeta and sequins besides. They are convinced that all we need is to “put on a happy face” and all our sorrows will magically evaporate.

In their mad pursuit of happiness, they shoot us with the bullets of shopping, piped-in music, special holiday foods and fragrances, gift wrapping, decorations (especially the angels!), joyous children with happy smiles, cards, invitations, parties and gift exchanges. Any other time of the year, snow is considered a nuisance to shovel and plow through. At the holiday season, though, it is touted as romantic and is linked to sleighs and starry nights in front of fireplaces, snuggled close to those we love.

The most devastating bombs they drop into our lives are the images of reunion — times of greeting and hugging folks who are much loved and sometimes not often seen for awhile. They may only be separated by geography; our absent loved ones cannot cross the chasm of loss that looms before our tear-filled eyes. They remind us of things we should be thankful for (and we are more thankful for many of those things than they can ever imagine). They prod us with their spears of delightful togetherness, never realizing that what they celebrate is what we cannot now enjoy. We would not dream of attacking them in these battles for holiday survival. With our noses pressed against the glass that divides us, we actually long to be able to be part of their happiness. We remember the times we joined in their fun and we, too, were part of their army of nostalgia and joy.

Our broken hearts and bleeding wounds do not excuse us from being gracious, however. While grief does not give us permission to be rude and selfish, and we take no overt action against their aggression, we are not without defenses in these battles. We can shield ourselves with the armor of dignity with kind but direct and simple explanations: “We understand your need for celebration, but this year we prefer quiet and private reflection and meditation.” “Right now it’s hard for us to function in large groups and to appreciate laughter and high spirits.” “Our energy is so limited; we’d appreciate some quiet one-on-one time with you in a more spiritual atmosphere.”

We can gently remind them of how important it is for us to remember those we love who are gone. These are statements that clarify our position without judging or criticizing them for theirs. In kind and non-threatening ways, we need to tell them what’s good for us, because they won’t think of it on their own, and they can use the education.

We also can exercise the muscles of our sense of humor. It will take some effort on our part, but so does anything that is worthwhile and good for us. We can teach ourselves not to fall into the trap of thinking that our grief makes us the center of the universe. We can limit our demands that others treat us in “special” and “deferential” ways because of our pain. We can cut them a little slack and remember that once upon a time, we were just like they are now. It’s good and healthy for us to review our perspectives now and then and decide if we’re being fair and reasonable.

We can express our love in simple and unhurried ways without all the frenetic, expensive and often hysterical hype that the holidays can generate. And we must exercise the expression of our love. Grief does not rob us of our ability to love; it reminds us ever more dramatically of our need to both give and receive love while we are here.

Whenever we can take some control in our situations, we empower ourselves, and then we feel less like victims in what seems like a war of “peace on earth, goodwill toward men.” Anytime we can educate and inform with mercy and compassion, we have given a truly spiritual holiday gift of love that will keep on giving forever.

May your season be filled with genuine blessings of peace.

Thanksgiving-My Child has died, can I ever be thankful?

This time next week it will be Thanksgiving and for many of us who've lost children, we can't imagine being "thankful"...  Almost a year after my son Bobby died and just months after I'd begun this blog and first began receiving emails from mom's and others outside of our group, I received this story about Thanksgiving - I apologize but I didn't save the name of whom sent it to me, but I want to share it with you.. 

The holidays are difficult, and for some, as hard as we try we can't seem to get back into them the way others wish we would...  but I find her comments in the last paragraph comforting and inspirational, and what I've learned since Bobby's death (also 2 months before Thanksgiving in 2009) is that I am thankful - I am thankful he was born, that he was my son, that I enjoyed him for 36 years and 23 days and that he gave me two beautiful grandsons who remind me of him every time I look at them and I'm glad that Bobby is now with his 2 angel sisters in heaven; and I'm thankful for my wonderful husband Dan, 2 incredible sons Ric & Sean & 2 great step-sons Dan Jr & Doug, 5 daughter-in-laws who I love Margaret, Jennifer, Nikki, Suzanne & Mandi, my adopted daughter Jennifer and 9 1/4 grandchildren that I've been blessed with.. Yes - I have a lot to be thankful for..

THANKSGIVING… MY CHILD HAS DIED, DON’T EXPECT ME TO BE THANKFUL!!

~ By Linda Moore

Dear friends...If this is your first Thanksgiving since the death of your child, I am so very sorry. There is nothing I can say here to make it better, wish I could. Everyone has to do the holiday thing in their own way...whatever might make you the most comfortable. I will share with you part of my Thanksgiving story…

For years our family had gone away for Thanksgiving. We were joined by extended family and it was always a good time. When our kids were little, we all went camping, cooked the turkey outside in a smoker. Some great memories there.

As the kids got older, and I figured out that fixing a big meal outdoors was only fun for everyone else, not the ones bringing everything for it and fixing it! Our game plan then changed and we began going to a hotel on the beach in Carlsbad. Now that was the say to go. We had a big suite, nice heated pool at the ocean’s edge and maid service!!

Then one year, Brad died two months before Thanksgiving. I could not fathom feeling Thankful. My child had died!! 


All the hotel arrangements had been made the year before. We were on automatic pilot and just went with the flow. I did insist on everyone sharing a memory with Brad and lighting a candle in his memory. When I made this request, there were probably some anxious moments…I don’t remember, nor did I care. In some ways I think it was good for us sticking with some of the traditions that Brad loved and adding new ones to honor him. Was it hard? No doubt. Should we have stayed home, gone somewhere else? No matter where we would have gone, he still would not have been there...there is no getting around that. The pain would have been with us no matter where we were.

We told Brad we loved him, writing it in huge letters in the sand. I spent quiet moments by myself, walking on the beach. I cried by myself and with others. I even laughed a couple of times as we shared silly moments of other Thanksgiving days with Brad. Most of the day I felt I was in the “twilight zone” - participating but removed.

That night, when I was by myself, I sat and wrote a letter to Brad – a letter telling him how thankful I was that he was my son, that I had him for those 17 years, 364 days...That I was thankful for every moment, great, good and not so good. I was thankful for the love we still had.

Have I ever had a “normal” Thanksgiving again? NO...no, I have rearranged things in my mind...some

things I keep to myself so others can fully enjoy the day. But I always include Brad in some way. I cannot change that he is no longer physically here...so I have to change my world to make way for this new life of mine and make the best of it.

My Child

MY CHILD

~ Author  Unknown

I’ve loved my child right from the start
A feeling that’s filled my entire heart
I went through the labor and suffered the pain
For many long hours with nothing to gain

I’ve spent sleepless nights being awake
Though it’s been a while my arms they still ache
I’ve sat and I’ve wondered of how he would grow
The love of my family that he’d come to know

The sound of his voice as he learns to talk
Watching his steps as he tries to walk
I have a child that I really love so
I am his mother yet nobody knows

I spent all those months feeling him grow
I’ve lived through it all and have nothing to show
I don’t get invited to chat with young mothers
Because I don’t have a baby like all of the others

I’ve got some stretch marks that I’d like to hide
But I don’t have a pram with a baby inside
The people I’ve known for so many years
They now avoid me, which adds to my tears

I don’t know how long I’ll be feeling like this
But one thing I know my baby I miss
When Mothers Day comes it will be very hard
I won’t have any flowers – not even a card

And just because he’s not here with me
I still have a son I wish I could see
But one thing I know and this is for sure
I’ll be his mother for evermore

Fathers Day, A Grandfather's View

~ Bill Fausett, BP Central Arkansas Chapter

Now well into my fifties and knowing Father’s Day is approaching once again, I find myself recalling my very first. It was a beautiful Sunday morning, June 16, when I became a father for the first time, a Father’s Day I will never forget. Already prepared with the traditional cigars, I had to be a turkey, strutting his stuff . Many of the Father’s Days after that were spent away from home working and never stopping to think just how special this day really is.

After my retirement, a few years back, I became a grandfather and my whole life changed. I never dreamed I would be changing diapers, giving bottles, in the middle of the floor playing dolls, or outside watching bugs, birds, butterflies, bees, squirrels, rabbits, and loving every minute of it, with the most beautiful granddaughter anyone has ever seen (my opinion, of course).

That was a special year for me. I found myself asking the wife, “Did our kids do that?” many times, and she telling me, “yes”, but you were working or just didn’t notice. My granddaughter taught me more about the beauty of life and how much I had missed in the short time she was here that I could have ever imagined!

We lost her at 13 months, 2 days, and 22 hours due to a very rare genetic disorder and again my life changed. This Father’s Day will be spent with my family and a new grandson, now two and half years old, and a great little guy. I see much of the same inquisitive nature in him. Making sure each visit he has is a good time, I think I do it out of obligation and not with the joy that I once had, but when you see that smile on his face, you know you made his day a little better and that makes it all worthwhile.

Memories are a part of our past and some become a part of our heart. At the end of Father’s Day, when everyone has gone to bed, I will sit at my desk, drink one more cup of coffee, say a prayer and, once again, tell my granddaughter just how much I love and miss her and somehow I know she knows and in my mind will hear her say, “Pa Paw, I love you too. Take time to smell the roses.”

Just For Today (Section 3 of 6)

Just for today I will forgive all the family and friends

who didn’t help or comfort me the way I needed them to.

They truly did not know how.

For the next several days, I will continue to post a separate section from this powerful poem "Just for Today" to ponder....

This poem was written for bereaved parents by Vicki Tushingham. In August 2010, Kelly Farley, Founder of “The Dads Project” and a wonderful blog for grieving dads, shared this same series with his readers… I agree with Kelly and would encourage you to share this with others… I would also encourage you to visit Kelly’s blog for dads (and moms also). If you know of a grieving dad, refer them to the blog, it truly is a wonderful resource for dads, who often get lost in this journey from mourning for their children …

Kelly’s Blog: http://www.grievingdads.wordpress.com/

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

I want to 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 for our blog today. 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/

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.

Does anyone undesrstand what we are going through?

~ by Cherie Houston

July 31st, 1972 - 39 years ago today, my beautiful daughter Robin died.. She was a beautiful healthy and happy little 7 month old - sharing the nursery with her 16 month old brother Ric - their very patriotic red, white & blue nursery with matching cribs, hers had a beautiful canopy top... We awoke early that Monday morning, to the shock that Robin Marie, our beautiful little girl, had died during the night, a victim of SIDS - yes 39 years ago today, our world seemed to go into a tailspin, that was the day we lost our 2nd child.. God this can't be happening again, but it did.. Our first daughter, Randee Marie, had died the year before on March 17, 1971 - a little more than 9 hours after she'd been born 12 weeks prematurely, but despite the heartache of losing Randee, we were blessed ~ her twin brother, Ric - who was also only 3 lbs - had survived and now again Ric was our "only child".

I've kept a diary since high school and from time to time I go back and read entries from years gone by - funny, sad, philosophical, complaining, angry, proud, amazing, hopeful - such a wide variety of emotions and it helps to see where I've been... I recently went back and read my diary a year after Robin died - not sure I've ever gone back and read the few weeks after her death-that's too painful, but a year later was OK. I was already expecting again - and would be blessed with a little baby boy - yes Ric had a new baby brother - Bobby was born Aug 27th, 13 months after Robin's death and 7 years later we were blessed again with another beautiful baby boy - Sean... Blessings and tragedy seem to be intertwined - on September 19, 2009 our 3rd child would die, when our 36 year old sone Bobby took his own life on September 19th, 2009..... I want to share with you what I wrote one year aftr Robins death, because it reminds me that maybe those around us who can't understand our pain, just truly can't...

Tuesday, July 31st, 1973
I don't remember when or where I heard the expression "the only two things in life that are certain are death and taxes" But I know it's a common statement, so why is it that no one seems comfortable with understanding what death does to those who are left living? Why can't anyone around me understand how painful it is when someone we know or loves is grieving and heartbroken over the loss of their child, parent, spouse or close friend. Why doesn’t everyone around us understand what we are going through? After all everyone is going to experience loss at some time in their life. Or is it that grief is so terribly painful that no one wants to talk about it and those of us who do, we just makes others uncomfortable.

How did this happen – one year ago today my beautiful little girl Robin died, gone – only 7 months old and in just a moment, this healthy happy little girl who had just pulled herself up and took a step was gone… How can this be and why is that no one seems to understand what I’m going through. I watch other young moms and dads who have lost their babies to SIDS and why is that no one around any of us seems to understand the impact that this loss has had on us. Instead, it seems as though others around us, want to yell at us and say “straighten up and get on with your lives – you are young, you’ll get over it – you’ll have another”… Yes, maybe that’s true – after all I am excited about being pregnant again and I’m nervously looking forward to the arrival of this new little girl or boy in a few months, but why can’t anyone understand that I also want Robin back and that this new baby, although he or she will be loved, will not and can never replace Robin – I just want my baby girl back…

It's not fair-what did we ever do wrong to be thrown into this nightmare – like a spooky fraternity with the deaths of our babies in common - yet we have no idea what to do, how to act, what is normal and we are all wondering the same thing – are we all going crazy?? Dr. Sturner has been so wonderful - who could have guessed the medical examiner to do Robin's autopsy would become such a close friend, but he's helped me so much this last year including establishing this SIDS chapter, but he’s a grandfather and although he’s lost a grandbaby to SIDS, he’s blessed that he has all his children – he can’t fully understand how overwhelming this loss is… I’m amazed at the number of “outsiders” who have whispered to us that they themselves, their moms, aunts, grandmas, etc have had a baby who died of ‘crib death also” but they never talk about it – how can that be, I just want to shout it from the roof tops – my baby is gone, my heart is broken, can’t anyone help me… how and why can you keep death a secret??

Each parent I meet, the feelings we share are the same, feelings of devastating pain, all we want are things the way they were ~ we want our life as it once was and our babies back ~ God why cna't anyone understand that this pain is crippling ~ our hearts feel as though they are totally shattered and we aren’t sure if we will ever get through this, how can we cope, will we ever feel better – doesn’t anyone understand how much we are hurting… Is this what we are going to feel forever – it’s been a year, but it feels like this morning – the nightmare repeats itself over and over again in my mind – whether I’m awake or asleep – like a movie that never stops…

But then again I can't be going crazy – because each and every parent I meet who has suffered this same horrific event is feeling the same things, so this must be normal, this must just be what grief is.. But if that's the case, why then, can’t anyone around me understand what I’m going through, because after all – some of them must have been where we are, they must understand what we are going through – because after all everyone is going to suffer the loss of someone they love – after all taxes & death are the only 2 sure things in life that are certain..

So why can’t they understand my grief or is it that they do understand. Yes maybe they do understand more than I think they do, but maybe - just maybe - for them it’s just too painful to go back, so they scurry away from us - almost as though we are contagious and they might catch our grief - and maybe they have to turn their backs on us because they are just grateful that it’s not them…

To My Dearest Family - Poem

TO MY DEAREST FAMILY:

Some things I'd like to say
but first of all to let you know
that I arrived okay

I'm writing this from Heaven
where I dwell with God above
where there's no more tears
or sadness there, is just eternal love

Please do not be unhappy
just because I'm out of sight
remember that I'm with you
every morning, noon and night

That day I had to leave you
when my life on Earth was through
God picked me up and hugged me
and He said I welcome you

It's good to have you back again
you were missed while you were gone
as for your dearest family
they'll be here later on

I need you here so badly
as part of My big plan
there's so much that we have to do
to help our mortal man

Then God gave me a list of things
He wished for me to do
and foremost on that list of mine
is to watch and care for you

And I will be beside you
every day and week and year
and when you're sad, I'm standing there
to wipe away the tear

And when you lie in bed at night
the days chores put to flight
God and I are closest to you
in the middle of the night

When you think of my life on Earth
and all those loving years
because you're only human
they are bound to bring you tears

But do not be afraid to cry
it does relieve the pain
remember there would be no flowers
unless there was some rain

I wish that I could tell you
of all that God has planned
but if I were to tell you
you wouldn't understand

But one thing is for certain
though my life on Earth is o're
I am closer to you now
than I ever was before

And to my very many friends
trust God knows what is best
I'm still not far away from you
I'm just beyond the crest

There are rocky roads ahead of you
and many hills to climb
but together we can do it
taking one day at a time

It was always my philosophy
and I'd like it for you too
that as you give unto the World
so the World will give to you

If you can help somebody
who is in sorrow or in pain
then you can say to God at night
my day was not in vain

And now I am contented
that my life it was worthwhile
knowing as I passed along the way
I made somebody smile

So if you meet somebody
who is down and feeling low
just lend a hand to pick him up
as on your way you go

When you are walking down the street
and you've got me on your mind
I'm walking in your footsteps
only half a step behind

And when you feel the gentle breeze
or the wind upon your face
that's me giving you a great big hug
or just a soft embrace

And when it's time for you to go
from that body to be free
remember you're not going
you are coming here to me

And I will always love you
from that land way up above
Will be in touch again soon
P.S. God sends His Love

--Author Unknown

Special Prayer Request for Lisa Van Ella and family

Special Prayer Request for Lisa Van Ella and family. Today (July 2nd) Lisa's sister Lori and husband Rick lost their youngest child (10 year old Karissa) who was killed in an ATV accident. Lisa's son Wyatt flew back to Indiana to spend 3 weeks with his Aunt Lori, so he's present there for this sad tragedy.

Prayers are needed for Lisa as she flys to be with her sister Lori and family...

“God, bring comfort and peace to Lori & Rick and their families, who have lost their precious child Karissa in death. We come to you, God because we know that you are acquainted with grief, that you too have endured the loss of a child and that you can and will empathize.

We can’t help but ask, “Why?” Forgive our insistence, our confusion, even our anger. We believe that you are just, and we ache to understand how this tragic death is an expression of that justice, how it expresses your love. We also know – in our minds at least – that you seldom answer the “why?” question. We press you, but on these matters you are mostly silent.

What we ask instead is “how?” How can we endure this horrific loss. How can this bring us together and not tear us apart? How can we now live under the shadow of this untimely death? Answer this prayer with your comfort and guidance.

There is no way to remove the pain. The grief is real. The only sanity is to know, to believe, in a life beyond with you, when all the scales are righted and the sufferings are made good. We trust you and your promise that while this child’s life on earth is done, her life beyond has just begun. With that release we lose her and let her go into your arms, then by faith receive in return the boundless comfort of your presence. That is all, that is enough.

Please God give this family the strength they will need in the coming hours, days, weeks, months and years ahead... We ask this in your name, Amen.

Helping Yourself When Your Child Has Died – Part 2 of 2

~ by Charles A. Corr, Ph.D  _ Continued from our posting on June 11th, 2011...

DRAW STRENGTH FROM OTHER BEREAVED PARENTS - Bereaved parents often report that other parents who lost children were their most effective helpers. “They knew the pain. They knew what to say and what not to say.” It may help you to seek out a local support group for bereaved parents by asking for referrals from a funeral home, hospice program or a religious institution in your area.

FOCUS ON YOUR CHILD’S LEGACY - Many parents have found it helpful to concentrate not only on what they have lost, but also on what their child has meant and continues to mean to them. They reflect on how their child enriched their lives. You can do this by thinking about the special place and meaning your child holds for you. Your life is richer because your child lived.

Your relationship with your child will now be different – that is the hard fact resulting from death. However, your child will always have a place in your heart – that will never change. Even though your child is no longer alive, you can still love that child for as long as you live. Loving in separation is no less real than loving in presence.  Your child helped to make you who you now are in your life’s journey. The legacy of your child can still help you grow; it can continue to have profound effects in your own life and in the lives of those around you.

COMMEMORATING YOUR CHILD’S LIFE - You can commemorate the life of your child in many ways. Some parents write brief poems or short stories, while others compose a journal of memories, create a garden, make a charitable donation, or establish a scholarship in their child’s memory.

Other parents commemorate the life of their child by buying or making a special present on their child’s birthday, holidays or other gift-giving occasions. They then donate the present in the memory of their child to a poor youngster or to a charity. In this and other ways, you can maintain an important connection with your child and keep his or her memory and legacy alive in your own life.  You can often help yourself best by accepting support and love from those who love you and who knew and loved your child, as well as by helping others who turn to you for support and love.

Everyone who loved your child will be affected by his or her death. All of them still need to feel loved, secure, and like they are an important part of your family. Shared hugs and tears are great ways to say, “We still are a family, the child who died remains a part of our family, and in spite of everything we all continue to matter.”

~ Charles A. Corr, Ph.D, is Professor emeritus, Southern Illinois University Edwardsville, and former Chairperson (1989-1993) of the International Work Group on Death, Dying, and Bereavement. Dr. Corr’s professional publications include 22 books and more than 80 articles and chapters on a wide variety of death-related topics.

Surviving the Death of a Child - Part 2 of 2

Thank you again to Gayle Stewart from Florida for sharing this with us... she said she reads the entire article almost daily since the death of her 8 year son last fall... it reminds her that she is "normal" as she continues on her journey from mourning to joy...

~ by Donna Lamb, LSCSW ~ Senior Social Worker, The Menninger Hope Adult Program

Each parent had a unique relationship with the child and this uniqueness will be reflected in the grief process. Each parent’s characterological differences will make their external and internal experiences of grief different: one may need to talk about the child constantly, while the other may find mention of the child too difficult; one may seek out friends for support, while the other may withdraw; one may want to allow surviving children to witness his/her grief responses, while the other may want to protect the children from the parent’s pain; one may want to resume sexual intimacy, while the other may feel that enjoying any aspect of life is a betrayal of the child; one may find comfort in returning to work quickly, while the other may be unable to function.

It is not unusual for grief responses such as despair, anger, guilt and feelings of loss of control to increase in mothers for several years after the death. Fathers, on the other hand, typically experience a decrease in symptoms after the second year (Fish, 1986). Therefore, as the mother’s grief is intensifying, the father’s is decreasing, which further contributes to the isolation each parent feels in the marital relationship.

Especially problematic in parental grief is guilt, resulting from the parents’ deep sense of responsibility for and helplessness after a child’s death. Miles and Demi (1986) identify the following sources of parental guilt.

• Death causation guilt: resulting from parent’s perceived contribution to or failure to protect the child from death
• Illness-related guilt: resulting from perceived deficiencies in the parental role during the child’s illness or at the time of death
• Parental role guilt: the belief that the parent failed to live up to self- or societal expectations in the overall parental role
• Moral guilt: resulting from the belief that the child’s death was punishment or retribution for something the parent did or failed to do
• Survival guilt: the belief that children should outlive their parents
• Grief guilt: resulting from the parent’s behavioral or emotional reactions of grief at the time of or following the child’s death

It is often thought that the death of a child is a death knell for the marriage. This is not true. If a marital relationship was struggling prior to the child’s death, the death will add another dimension to the struggle. If the marriage was strong, however, the relationship often ends up stronger than it was before. Communication concerning what each needs and expects from the other is critical, balanced by an awareness that the partner may not be able to provide the support that is requested; other family members or friends may be needed for support. Most importantly, partners must realize that any distance they feel in their relationship during the grief process is not necessarily a true reflection of real feelings for each other.

 What may be seen as complicated grief responses in individuals, who have experienced the death of someone other than a child, may be seen as normal in parental grief. As long as the behavior is not physically, emotionally or psychosocially dysfunctional for too long, it can be viewed as normal parental grief. As painful as the grief process will be, it is important that parents allow themselves to feel the pain of separation from their child so that they can, in the future, live a life that is not governed by intense pain. If attended to, the pain of parental grief does diminish, and a new life, which incorporates a spiritual and psychological relationship with the child, will unfold.

Surviving the Death of a Child - Part 1 of 2

Thank you to Gayle Stewart from Florida for sharing this with us... she said she reads the entire article almost daily since the death of her 8 year son last fall...  it reminds her that she is "normal" as she continues on her journey from mourning to joy...

~ by Donna Lamb, LSCSW ~ Senior Social Worker, The Menninger Hope Adult Program

Upon becoming a parent, most people are surprised to find within themselves a previously unrecognized capacity to love and a fierce need to protect; parents take on the role of provider, problem solver and advisor.

This emotional bonding between parent and child occurs long before the child’s birth, as each parent begins to fantasize about the child, imagining the life they will share. Parents dream of having someone whom they can love unconditionally and who will love and need them; children provide the opportunity for parents to correct mistakes made during their own childhood and serve as carriers of the family name and family genes.

Children provide a sense of purpose for the parents and, therefore, become an integral part of the parents’ lives. The greatest fear of most parents is having a child die, as they cannot imagine being able to emotionally cope with such a loss.

A child’s death, no matter the age of the child, is incomprehensible to parents. Bereaved parents feel oppressive feelings of failure in their roles as parents; their inability to prevent their child’s death leads to overwhelming feelings of helplessness and of being violated. Their sense of self diminishes, and they feel disillusioned, empty and insecure. Parents, looking through their pain, are disoriented and confused to see that somehow the world continues on even though nothing makes sense any more. Their instincts to provide for and protect the child continue after the death, but they are unable to act on these instincts; stormy nights often find bereaved parents awake, wondering if their child is in a safe, dry place.

It’s interesting to note that in other types of familial death, there is a term that denotes a change in relationship: bereaved spouses become “widows” or “widowers” and “orphans” denote children who have no parents. There is, however, no word that reflects the changed status from “parent” to “bereaved parent.” It is a change that defies vocabulary.

Because bereaved parents represent the worst fear of every parent, they are avoided more than other mourners. Other family members are experiencing their own grief, friends don’t know what to say or do and society expects parents to return to work in three days, being as productive as before. The child’s death is socially invalidated. Parents often report feeling disconnected from reality, similar to being in a sensory deprivation chamber; without feedback from others; judging reality becomes impossible.

Numerous secondary losses accompany the death of a child, including loss of the family as it existed prior to the death. Surviving children lose the emotional, and perhaps physical, availability of their parents, grandparents “lose” their children to parental grief and spouses lose the support of each other–each whose emotional plate is so full that they cannot be there for the other. The impact of a child’s death on a marital relationship cannot be underestimated. Neither parent will be the same person as they were before the death.

Grief is a lifetime journey when our child dies…

It is said that when a parent dies, we lose our past; but when our child dies, we lose a part of our future.

Parental grief is boundless. It touches every aspect of [a] parent's being...When a baby dies, parents grieve for the rest of their lives. Their grief becomes part of them...As time passes, parents come to appreciate that grief is [their] link to the child, [their] grief keeps [them] connected to the child. ~ by ARNOLD AND GEMMA, IN CORR ET AL. 1996, 50-51

Grieving parents say that their grief is a lifelong process, a long and painful process..."a process in which [they] try to take and keep some meaning from the loss and life without the [child]" (Arnold and Gemma 1983, 57). After a child's death, parents embark on a long, sad journey that can be very frightening and extremely lonely- a journey that never really ends. The hope and desire that healing will come eventually is an intense and persistent one for grieving parents.

The child who died is considered a gift to the parents and family, and they are forced to give up that gift. Yet, as parents, they also strive to let their child's life, no matter how short, be seen as a gift to others. These parents seek to find ways to continue to love, honor, and value the lives of their children and continue to make the child's presence known and felt in the lives of family and friends. Bereaved parents often try to live their lives more fully and generously because of this painful experience.

To those outside the family, the composition of the family may seem to change when a child dies. A sibling may become an only child; a younger child may become the oldest or the only child; the middle child may no longer have that title; or the parents may never be able to, or perhaps may choose not to, have another child. Nonetheless, the birth order of the child who died is fixed permanently in the minds and hearts of the parents. Nothing can change the fact that this child is considered a part of the family forever, and the void in the family constellation created by the child's death also remains forever.

In a newsletter for bereaved parents, one mother wrote, "It feels like a branch from our family tree has been torn off." Another grieving mother continues, "I felt that way too. A small branch, one whose presence completed us, had been ripped from our family and left a large wound. Without it, we were lopsided and off balance. When subsequent children are born, [they] do not replace the fallen branch, but create a new limb all their own" (Wisconsin Perspectives Newsletter, December 1996, 1).

This is an excerpt from an article in “www.athealth.com”

To read the entire article go to their website via this link…

www.athealth.com/consumer/disorders/parentalgrief.html

COMMUNICATION WITH SURVIVING CHILDREN

By Mary Cleckley - TCF

If you are fortunate enough to have surviving children, when was the last time you:

- Told them how important they are to you?

- Thanked them for their patience with you during these dark hours?

- Assured them that had it been one of them who died, it would have been just the same?

- Told them that the reason you struggle so hard to survive is because you want to enjoy life with them again?

- Reassured them there will be joy and some happiness in your family’s life again when you have had the necessary time to create your new life?

- If you haven’t told them lately—or even if you have—tell them again. Both you and they need that reassurance.

Beyond Surviving: Jack Cain's Story “Living in the NOW”

After our son Bobby took his own life a little more than 15 months ago on Sept. 19, 2009, a friend sent me this article hoping that it would help bring me peace.

I have read this article countless times; first to remind myself that I am not alone, also that it can be worse - and it certianly can be.  But most importantly I read it to remind myself that life will and should go on; and that how my life goes on is a choice that only I can and must make.  Despite the tragedy of that day Bobby died, I want Bobby's life to be remembered for all the wonderful 13,165 days of his young life - not that one day when he choose to go home to heaven.  Bobby loved life and lived it to the fullest - he always saw the cup as half full - and the best in all situations, or so we thought - but that is what I choose to remember and I want that sense of positive optimism to be instilled in his 2 little boys and each and every member of our family.  That to me is Bobby's legacy and until we meet again I hope I can and will live life to the fullest and enjoy all the joy there is to behold.  We are so blessed with a wonderful family, 8 beautiful healthy grandchildren and another on the way in January - We have so much to be thankful and joyous for...  And Jack Cains story helps remind me of that each time I read it..  I hope you will find it healing, despite the way in which your child died - the lessons are the same..   Cherie Houston

~ by Jack Cain

"As horrible as the experience of suicide was, it taught us to appreciate our life in the moment and not to live our lives in the past and certainly not to fear the future." Hello. My name is Jack Cain. Ten years ago, I lost my son to suicide. In the following year, I lost my wife to ovarian cancer and my 34 year-old daughter to congestive heart failure.

My son Adam was 27 years old. He had a very long history of emotional problems, and used both drugs and alcohol. He had been hospitalized for depression for months before he died. He seemed to be getting better, but killed himself just two weeks after being released.

One night, after my wife and I had gone to bed, Adam went into the garage, and with the overhead door closed, turned on the car while he was sitting in it. I found his body the next morning. Our family did its best to cope. Unfortunately, this came at a very difficult time because my wife was battling ovarian cancer. I became convinced that some part of Adam’s decision to kill himself was that he knew my wife was going to die, and chose not to be there.

Our immediate response after his suicide was questioning what we might have done differently to prevent this from happening. We did not dwell too long on the subject because we knew in our hearts that we had always done what was best for him. Today, when I look back, I believe that grief is necessary, but guilt and regrets are totally counterproductive.

At some point, perhaps because my wife was so ill, an idea evolved. My wife and I were living our remaining time together, in pain that came from dealing in the past. Any happiness was crowded out by thoughts of Adam’s suicide. We were living in the past instead of the present. Little by little we learned to replace the past by doing what we called “Living in the NOW”. We learned to appreciate each day and its beauty, instead of allowing the past to consume us. I eventually wrote down these thoughts on the process of NOW and I practice them every day, sometimes a number of times a day.

After my wife died, I was alone in my grief. It came to me in waves; as years went by, the pain decreased a bit, and the waves became further and further apart. I was eventually able to control the grief, so that it came only when it was invited, but this took years to accomplish.

My perspective on life at the moment is very positive. I regard myself as a very lucky person. I now live with my daughter, her husband, and my two grandchildren, and our lives together are marvelous. In the past year, my Significant Other, Anne, and I were fortunate to find each other, filling the voids in each other’s lives. I am heavily into photography of homeless people; I sell their portraits to raise money for Fotokids, an organization that teaches photography to kids who live in a garbage dump in Guatemala.

I could have chosen to dwell on the past and all the misfortune it contained. Instead, I have chosen to move forward in my life and to absorb the possibilities that are in front of me. You, too, can have this choice. It won’t happen soon after you experience the crushing grief of loss by suicide, but it will happen. Time needs to go by coupled with a positive attitude that it will happen. If you let it.


February 2008, published again November 2009-Editor's Note: Jack published his first book Overcoming Crushing Grief and remarried in the spring of 2009.