Death is nothing at all...................

Death is nothing at all

~ by Henry Scott-Holland, Canon of St. Paul’s - 1847-1913

Death is nothing at all…

I have only slipped away into the next room…

I am I and you are you…

whatever we were to each other that we are still.

Call me by my old familiar name,

speak to me in the easy way which you always used.

Put no difference into your tone;

wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.

Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together.

Pray, smile, think of me, pray for me.

Let my name be ever the household word that it always was.

Let it be spoken without effect,

without the ghosts of a shadow on it.

Life means all that it ever meant.

It is the as it ever was;

there is absolutely unbroken continuity.

What is this death but a negligible accident?

Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?

I am but waiting for you, for an interval,

somewhere very near just around the corner…

All is well.

Finding meaning in life

Finding meaning in life..

Special thanks to Paula Simmons for sharing this with us from the www.cancer.net site she visits often, since the death of her 9 year old daughter Mariah in the fall of 2008.  The article was entitled "Grieving the Loss of A Child: - June 2009

Parents whose children have died say that they never really “get over” the death of a child, but rather learn to live with the loss.

The death of a child can force parents to rethink their priorities and reexamine the meaning of life. It may seem impossible to newly grieving parents, but parents do go on to find happiness and reinvest in life again.

An important step for many parents is to create a legacy for their child and make their child's life, no matter how short, have a more complete purpose. Parents may choose to honor their child by volunteering at a local hospital or a cancer support organization. Parents may work to support interests their child once had, start a memorial fund, or plant trees in their child’s memory. It is important to remember that it is never disloyal to the deceased child to re-engage in life and to find pleasure in new experiences.

Every child changes the lives of his or her parents. Children show us new ways to love, new things to find joy in, and new ways look to at the world.

A part of each child’s legacy is that the changes he or she brings to a family continue after the child's death. The memories of joyful moments you spent with your child and the love you shared will live on and always be a part of you.

  

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.

Such a Beautiful Day….

~written by Mary Ehmann, Valley Forge BP/USA

Why am I Crying?

This is a question that comes up every spring, particularly from newly bereaved.  It’s something we have always looked forward to, before tragedy hit.  The cold, drab, bleak winter is finally over.  Somehow, we thought that magical time would be the magic that would free us from our pain.  Unfortunately, not so!  Perhaps it’s because we see this beauty unfolding, and our children are not here to share it. 

The devastating knowledge is that the “magic” of spring didn’t change our feelings.  The fact the world seems to go on, just as if nothing has happened, when  our world seems to have stopped, seems impossible to comprehend.  False expectations.  What we tend to forget is that seasons change, where we are in our grief cycle is what controls our feelings.

Just hold on to the fact that spring is a rebirth of what seems dead, as dead as you feel now.  It is true, you will never stop missing your child, however, hold on to the belief that your spring will come again, too.  When it does, it will be different.  

Just as the trees and flowers are not the same, you won’t be either.  But their beauty is still there, and as you start to come back to life again, you will find different joys in life. 

We all run on a different calendar, so no time frame can be put on your spring.  Just know that your feelings are perfectly normal.  It may seem that you are back at square one, but look back, remember what it was like in the beginning, and I think you will realize there has been progress,  and there will be more.  

The Dragonfly Story

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

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

The Dragonfly

~Author Unknown~

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pain and Healing..

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

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

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

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

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

He is Gone - But Certainly not forgotten....

Happy Birthday Bobby – Yes today you would have been 39!! 

What an incredible man you were my son.  Oh I’m not forgetting for a moment the difficulties and sadness of the last 20 months before you chose to leave us and that's something I promise we'll discuss when I join you, but that's a painful place that I've chosen not to dwell in..  

Instead, I try to concentrate on all that you were - your bright smile, the enormous warmth and power of your hugs, your unending zest for life and always projecting the positive attitude that the glass was half full and never half empty, all the incredible memories of a happy life and all that you’ve left behind for all of us, especially those two beautiful little boys who are growing like weeds and no doubt carry your spirit in so many ways…  Anyone who knew you can’t help but smile and agree that you crammed more life into your short 36 years than most do in a lifetime, so soar with the angels and thank you for being my son…

I want to thank Susan Beazine, for sending me this wonderful poem a few months ago.  It certainly speaks to how I want to feel about my three angel children: Bobby and my daughters Robin & Randee…Cherie Houston

 HE IS GONE

~ by David Harkins

You can shed tears that he is gone

Or you can smile because he has lived

You can close your eyes and pray that he will come back

Or you can open your eyes and see all that he has left

Your heart can be empty because you can’t see him

Or you can be full of the love that you shared

You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday

Or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday

You can remember him and only that he is gone

Or you can cherish his memory and let it live on

You can cry and close your mind, be empty and turn your back

Or you can do what he would want: 
smile, open your eyes, love and go on

We love & miss you Bobby...

A Different Easter

From our family to yours, may you find peace and joy this easter season and I truly hope that a spark of hope will awaken in each of us, reminding us that there is life eternal and that our children will be there to welcome us when it's our time...Cherie Houston

A DIFFERENT EASTER ~ by Chris Gilbert, TCF, Tampa, Florida

Easter bunnies, brand new clothes, egg hunts, candy and baskets, the start of Spring. How exciting is this time of year? A new beginning, everything so fresh, so invigorating! But, unfortunately only painful and sorrowful memories are here for those of us who are bereaved parents and grandparents.
Gone is the laughter, the excitement in a special child’s eyes, the feeling of a whole new aspect in life. Spring is here and the world appears ready to bloom again with new life, new hope, and new wonders.
How can we view life in this way when part of ourselves is now gone, forever lost to us? How can our lives continue to go on when one of us is missing, no longer able to share this “newness” of life? It seems so unfair! And yet, out of our “darkness” comes the first signs of hope – a “bud” of survival, a moment of laughter, a memory of a happier time.
The Easter season usually represents rebirth; let this season be the “birth” of your finding your way back to life again, of finding the ability to heal, and of being able to resolve your grief so that hope and comfort are once again in your life. 

Let this time of the year show you that you CAN make it through this deepest, most difficult, and sorrowful time of your lives.  And your angel child will be there to help you each step of the way.

REFLECTIONS ON MARCH

~ Dayton Robinson, Tuscalossa, AL

March is a month of renewal. The dormant trees begin to stir, the birds optimistically sing of Spring; the winds, sometimes violent, wake us up; perhaps we need a “shake” out of our winter lethargy; an awakening. 
There is that urge to plant, to nourish, to grow a tree or a flower. There is the primordial urge to feel your hand digging in the warming earth. Perhaps we plant because we know that someone will see the results, as we have enjoyed the results of others’ work. It could be called a debt of renewal, a repayment for that which we have enjoyed. As we nourish small seedlings, we visualize the end results. That tree may die, as our children did. That tree may flourish beautifully, or it may meet ultimate disaster, but if that tree does well, it could be a source of great pleasure and of beauty for many coming years. We can believe that a seedling will be a glorious tree enjoyed by many. It’s a nice dream.
“To all things there is a season” and as life goes by, we simply cannot afford to miss the season, the renewals, the chances for new growth. Regardless of our grief’s and regrets, life goes on, and we must try not to miss a season. Life simply will be, whether we participate or not. Someone will benefit from constructive growth, if we can find the energy to make the effort.
Severe grief, for a time, reduces our interest and our ability to participate fully in life. With a low energy level and little initiative and with our hopes for the future severely damaged, it requires great effort for the bereaved to learn to again enjoy the small things that make up most of our lives. Our hopes for the future are so damaged that there is little incentive to work today for the future. The things that exist today comprise the basics of our future. We run a risk and a danger of missing the good things that are to be, because we do not have the wish to participate in the things that are today.
Although we need a time of some withdrawal, some time to ponder the unanswered questions, some time to heal, we also need to be aware of the lives that are passing. Regardless of our grief, life simply goes on, and there is much good that we risk losing if we stay too long in a state of suspense of the present and a sad review of the past.

A part of learning to “accept the unacceptable” is to learn to make the effort to sort out the good memories and take them with us into a future that will be happy again.
There comes a time when the harsh winter of our damaging grief will give way to some awakening, a time when we, like nature, can shake off some of the lethargy and see and feel the renewals life offers. Our choice is to remember that we could not control the advent of disaster. We can only control our response. Our choice is now only in the way in which we respond to the necessity to pick up the threads of our life and go on.
We owe it to ourselves to make a positive effort. We can hope that those buffeting winds of March can help us awaken to the renewals of Spring and put the “winter of our disaster” in its place, now a part of our ongoing lives.

Our Weekly Meetings Begin Thursday, Oct 27th, 2012-10am

We want to remind all of our moms in Lake Havasu City, that our weekly meetings will resume this Thursday morning, October 27th 10am-12N at the LHC Aquatic Center in Rooms #153 & 154.

We look forward to seeing you all and as always ask that if you know of one of our members who does not have email or a newly bereaved mom or grandmother who might benefit from our group, please invite them to join us.

For those of our members who have not yet arrived in Lake Havasu, we wish you safe travels and look forward to seeing you when you return...

Reminder - it's time to turn in those registrations & monies for our 5th Annual - 2012 Retreat, “Circle of Love, Circle of Life, Circle of Friendship” for Bereaved Moms and Grandmothers:

• Dates: Friday-Sunday, Feb 24th-26th, 2012
• Where: StageCoach Trails Ranch in Yucca, AZ
• Cost: $175, includes lodging for the two nights/three days, dinner Friday night, breakfast, lunch and dinner on Saturday, and breakfast Sunday morning & all materials.

Registration forms will be available at our meeting (or email me and I will gladly you send you the forms).

We hope to reach all of our moms, so please feel free to pass the word about our meetings and the upcoming retreat...

Special note:
Joyce wants to thank each of you again for your tremendous support and understanding and for respecting her privacy since Don's passing on September 5th; sadly we all know too well how difficult these first few weeks and months are and I'd ask that you continue to keep Joyce and her family in your prayers that God will give them the strength they need now and in the coming months...

WHEN A CHILD DIES - SURVIVING THE DEATH OF DREAMS Part 2 of 2

~ by Carol Staudacher ~ Continued from Part 1 on Monday, April 25th, 2011....

There will be times when you feel especially fragmented, as if the challenge of getting through the day is beyond your capabilities or beyond your desire. When you feel this way, let your heart dictate your direction. Rest and reflect and allow your feelings to come forth without censoring or resisting them. Don't hold back tears. It's not just a myth that crying makes you feel better--it actually does.

During these times of release and reflection, you might begin a project you can work on quietly, slowly, and lovingly--a scrapbook of photos, a letter or poem to your daughter, a piece of prose that describes your son--emotionally, physically, mentally, spiritually. Describe everything he/she meant to others, everything he achieved in his life. You may tape-record your own memories or experiences. Some parents have pieced together clips from their videos and those of friends or relatives to make a composite of their child's life.
More than anything, follow your own lead, do what allows you some relief. If you need to tell your story over and over, seek out those who will listen. If you need to reflect upon your child's life, privately and for great lengths of time, then indulge yourself in solitude.

When you begin to regain some degree of peace and strength, consider contributing some part of yourself--your knowledge, affection, or skills--to a child or an adult in need, someone who could experience self worth as a result of your attention, guidance, and kindness.

Regardless of the brevity of your child's life, you can build a legacy out of the love you hold by allowing it to spill over into the lives of those you don't even know yet. As one mother put it, "You can gather the love you have and use it to lighten the darkened spirit of a neglected child who has never been the source of anyone's pride."

Whether or not you choose to put your grief into action in this way will be just one of the choices you consider as you work to reshape your future. Regardless of the direction you choose, you'll continue to tap those same powerful resources that helped you to this point. "Surviving his death has brought me this far," a young father said, "now I owe it to my son to go forward with as much perseverance and vision as possible." Trust yourself to do the same, to follow the path that honors your heart

Carol Staudacher is an author and grief educator – Carol does a regular column for Beliefnet.net focuses on the adult grieving process and her books include "Men and Grief" and "Beyond Grief: A Guide for Recovering From the Death of a Loved One".

WHEN A CHILD DIES - SURVIVING THE DEATH OF DREAMS Part 1 of 2

~ by Carol Staudacher

"It's not supposed to be this way," the mother of a dying teenager cried. "I wasn't meant to live longer than my daughter. But now I have to."

How do you survive the death of your child? As a parent, you're supposed to be the provider, the nurturer, the protector, the mentor, the guide. You invest love and hope and certain beliefs in your son or daughter. But most of all, you do not outlive your child.

When tragedy strikes and you do bury a child, you're faced with reconstructing a life that has been suddenly robbed of its parental responsibilities and joys. The source of a certain kind of reciprocal love in your life is now absent. Your child may have loved openly or buoyantly, or been reserved and quietly affectionate. He or she may have been a typical teenager--aloof, moody, even a bit defiant, loving reluctantly. Your adult child may have doubled in the role of your sister, brother, friend, or caregiver. In any case, the place you reserved in the center of your heart and soul for your unique son or daughter is now aching.

Parents who lose a child to miscarriage or infant death experience a different, wrenching loss--often made more painful by people's awkward efforts to suggest that the brevity of a child's life should limit the extent of grief. But parental bonds begin with the dreams and hopes we carry for our unborn children. You probably enjoyed months of anticipation. You may have set up a nursery, had showers, enjoyed the eagerness of potential grandparents. For you and all who shared your joy, the loss and grief are very real.

Regardless of the age of the child, when you lose a son or daughter, part of your self is gone. In the case of mothers, part of your physical self is gone--the body that grew and quickened within you. For both fathers and mothers, your sense of family has undergone severe change. There are hopes to abandon, expectations to dismiss, and a whole array of profound emotional responses that both confuse and weaken the strongest and most determined of adult survivors.

Often parents have severe feelings of anger directed at others they see as having some direct responsibility for their son or daughter's death. These may include members of the medical community, relatives, the child's friends, even organizations or institutions.

It's crucial to talk about your strongest emotions with someone you trust. Avoid friends and relatives who do not have the capacity to acknowledge your feelings of despair, sadness, longing, regret--or even guilt. You do not have any obligation to listen to someone tell you that you are lucky because you have other children, or that you can get pregnant again, or that there must be some way your child's accident was "part of God's plan," or that your child's illness could have been cured or averted. You have lost your child, and you need to talk to others who have done the same, those whose pain parallels yours, whose understanding will be deep and supportive.

You can find groups for grieving parents by contacting the pastoral care office of the largest hospital near you or by inquiring at the closest hospice. They should be able to direct you to local, specialized support, such as a group for women surviving neonatal death, or for parents surviving the loss of a child to AIDS.

Part 2 (of 2) of this article will continue on Wednesday, April 27th...

A DIFFERENT EASTER

Yes it's Easter Weekend and another holiday that will be celebrated without our beloved children.

Despite the ache in your heart, I hope you can and will reflect and find peace and wonderful memories that warm your heart and make you smile.. I also wish for you and your family a peace filled, blessed Easter holiday.

Remember - you aren't "letting go" but simply healing and moving forward...

I thought this story might touch you as it did me, written by a sister in grief from Tampa, FL.. Cherie Houston

A DIFFERENT EASTER,

~ by Chris Gilbert, TCF, Tampa, Florida

Easter bunnies, brand new clothes, egg hunts, candy and baskets, the start of Spring. How exciting is this time of year? A new beginning, everything so fresh, so invigorating! But, unfortunately only painful and sorrowful memories are here for those of us who are bereaved parents and grandparents.

Gone is the laughter, the excitement in a special child’s eyes, the feeling of a whole new aspect in life. Spring is here and the world appears ready to bloom again with new life, new hope, and new wonders.

How can we view life in this way when part of ourselves is now gone, forever lost to us? How can our lives continue to go on when one of us is missing, no longer able to share this “newness” of life? It seems so unfair! And yet, out of our “darkness” comes the first signs of hope – a “bud” of survival, a moment of laughter, a memory of a happier time.
The Easter season usually represents rebirth; let this season be the “birth” of your finding your way back to life again, of finding the ability to heal, and of being able to resolve your grief so that hope and comfort are once again in your life.

Let this time of the year show you, that you CAN, make it through this deepest, most difficult, and sorrowful time of your lives.

SPRING HAS COME !!

~ Betty R. Ewart, BP/USA National Newsletter

“Spring has come, The grass has riz, I wonder where the flowers is?”

For some reason that poem, bad grammar and all is going through my head over and over this year.Our Ruthie died on Easter and spring came and I guess the grass and the flowers “riz” that year; but I don’t remember it!

This year we have had so much bad weather and cold that it seems that spring will never come.Somehow we expect that, when the weather gets sunny and warm again, and the growth comes back, we will be all well again. Somehow, the fact that what died in the fall and winter and is now showing new life and coming back is not the answer.

Then we think, let’s have our children come back now and we can get back to “normal.”

It’s hard to look at spring those first years after the death of our child and not have these thoughts.However, if we have a belief and faith in the resurrection, we may one day come to realize that all life is a cycle and there is and will be a resurgence of life at times when it may seem the dreariest.

So, when the grass and flowers begin to come back and when those of us who like to garden begin to plant and clear the garden, we can begin to have hope that we will see our children again some day.

Another lesson spring brings to us is that those flowers, when they come back, are not the same flowers. They have a new life and a new look. We also know that this is true of us. We are not the same people we were before our child died. We “come back” into life a changed person – hopefully a person changed for the better.

So, the grass, flowers and butterflies will soon be back and maybe we can begin to clear the cobwebs and concerns in our lives and become a new spring creation too. It won’t happen overnight and maybe not this year, but it will happen!

The Lifecycle of a Soul

~ Written by Elisa Medhus, MD

I know many of you watch in pain as the years go by after losing a loved one—one year, two years, five years, ten year, and on and on. If you’re like me, part of you has gained a new spiritual understanding of death and of the soul’s immortality. Yet, despite the comforting fact that we know our loved ones have simply shifted to another dimension right on top of our own—a paradise where we eventually will join them, it’s still hard, isn’t it?

Sometimes, when the house is empty, I call out for Erik like I used to:’ Erik, wake up and let’s go out for breakfast!’ ‘Erik, did you take out the trash?’ ‘Erik, come down for dinner, Sweetie!’ I choke back tears. I sing all of the lullabies that I used to sing when he was a baby. I pray I won’t live to see one hundred. God knows if my family saw me, they’d think I was nuts. I’m already on shaky ground in that territory as it is.

So it’s hard to have all this insight now, but still feel the emptiness in one’s arms and one’s heart, to feel wounded and reduced. We miss the hugs and kisses. We miss the pet nicknames and inside jokes. We miss having someone to nurture. We miss, in a word, the love. This is not to say that love can only emanate to and from one family member or friend, but each love is different. One love lost can never be replaced by another. If a puzzle piece is ripped away from that 3-D puzzle called life, that life is no longer what it was when every piece was in place. Once Erik was torn form my life, I was a right without a left, a to without a fro, a here without a there, a dark without a light. And all the spiritual knowledge we can cram into our minds and our hearts will never be enough. It may well buy us a little time, but, for me, only when we’re together again will I find the satisfaction that comes from feeling whole.

This was written by "Erik Rune Medhus's" mom "Elisa Medhus, MD who is a veteran physician and author, including "Raising Children Who Think for Themselves". She, like us, is a mom whose child has died - Erik was her 20 year old son, who took his own life on October 6ht, 2009. She states that since sad and tragic day, an overwhelming sense of grief and despair propelled her into a search for answers and she shares those thoughts on her blog:

www.channelingerik.com and the above article.blog was posted by Elisa on March 15th this year and sent to me by another mom...

From Grief to Joy - A Mother's Thought on our Annual Retreat

Joyce received this from a mom who attended our annual retreat a few weeks ago in February 2011. Joyce wanted to share it with all of us and has received Pam' s permission to include it in our blog... Pam's 18 yr. old son Alex ended his life July 7, 2005 and I think Pam's note speaks volumes about the benefits not only of participating in the retreat but what each of us gains from the sisterhood of sharing this journey with other moms on the same path, supporting each other as we go....I hope you enjoy it as much as I did..

~ written by Pam Ozsoy, Prescott, AZ 2011 ©

I recently attended a wonderful retreat for mothers who are grieving the loss of a child, no matter how long ago. I was very reluctant to address the loss of my child, as I never discuss it with my family for fear of hitting a raw nerve or with friends who can’t understand my loss. I truly was blessed to have Joyce Floyd, the founder and leader of the grief group, Journey from Grief to Joy, contact me and encourage me to attend, she wouldn’t let me come up with an excuse to back out!

I car-pooled with 2 other women. The retreat was held at Stagecoach Guest Ranch in Yucca, AZ. We arrived a bit late; everyone had already checked in and was participating in the tea party when we walked in. I was over taken by the amount of women present and realized that I was a member of this club, yes, I experienced the trauma of losing my son, it became so realistic to me that I was a statistic. I was somewhat in shock, looking like a deer in headlights, the women around me saw my distress and comforted me and told me it was OK. They made me feel welcome and comfortable.

We had a daily schedule and were expected to participate in all of the activities. The guest speaker was Lynn E. Paulson, PHD. She is a life coach and motivational speaker and lives in Alaska. Her topic was “I Can See Clearly Now”. Do you remember that song, it is by Johnny Nash? It would be great to review the lyrics and see how you can apply that to your grief journey.

I can see clearly now, the rain is gone,
I can see all obstacles in my way
Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind
It’s gonna be a bright (bright), bright (bright)
Sun-Shiny day.

I think I can make it now, the pain is gone
All of the bad feelings have disappeared
Here is the rainbow I’ve been prayin for
It’s gonna be a bright (bright), bright (bright)
Sun-Shiny day.

Look all around, there’s nothing but blue skies
Look straight ahead, nothing but blue skies

The grief process is not the same for everyone; we do not go in order of the stages. We experience different stages of grief at different times. The important thing is to realize that what we are going through is a normal part of grief and that grief is a life long journey.

The emphasis of the retreat was to share information about our children, each one of us had our turn to talk about our loss, how our child died, how old the child was. and the date the death occurred. We also had a treasure table where we placed a picture of our child and a small item belonging to our child that had significant meaning. We shared stories about our child that brought us joy. It felt as though our children were living through us.

I came away from this retreat with a new mind set. During the retreat I realized that I felt that honoring my child meant holding on to the grief and beating myself up, referring back to the song, this was my obstacle. This was how I held on to my child, by practicing self-defeating ideas. Would my son want me to live this way? Don’t we feel that all of God’s children are entitled to live a self-fulfilling life and be the best they can? So why am I stuck in this rut?

The mind is very powerful and a self-talk can make us or break us. The rainbow is that my son is in Heaven with our Holy Father. He is there experiencing more love, joy, and peace than we could ever imagine. He is looking down on me wondering why is my mom living in so much pain? Would he want me to focus only on the pain of his death, is that honoring his time on earth? For me that answer is NO! We had a beautiful love with a bond that will never be broken. He was my gift from heaven, a gift that was on loan as we all are. There are 18 years of life for me to celebrate, why am I reliving his death on a daily basis instead? I realized that this is not giving any meaning to his memory or who he was.

Yes, he isn’t here and it hurts. But I want to recall memories of when he was little, how he grew, what he did and said. Remember the love and kindness and the overflow of empathy. His athletic ability, he was a gifted golfer and made a hole in one ! When he was a teen, every morning he would ask, “What’s for dinner, Mom? “ And then after dinner he would say “Appreciate the effort” (meaning, not so great.) or “Good Effort, Mom” (He liked it). How precious is that?

So I have moved from Grief to Joy. I want his memory to bring me joy and thankfulness that he was my child. Pam Ozsoy, Prescott, AZ 2011 ©

THE MYTH OF CLOSURE

by Ashley Davis Prend, ACSW, Hospice of North Idaho

When will I begin to feel better? When will I return to normal? When will I achieve some closure?” grievers often ask. Closure, our culture tells us, will bring about a tidy ending, a sense of completion. Some grievers hope that the desired magical closure will occur after the funeral or memorial service. Others are confident it will come once they have cleared out their loved one’s room. Or maybe after a special personal ritual. Or perhaps after the first anniversary comes and goes—“surely then, we will have closure,” we think. We pray.

The reason we long for closure, of course, is because we would like to nearly seal away all of this pain. We would like to close all of the sad, confused, desperate, angry feelings out of our life. We would like to put all of this behind us. Closure. What an odd concept really, as if we could truly close the door on pain—turn the lock and throw away the key. The truth is far more complex, of course.

Closure is for business deals. Closure is for real estate transactions. Closure is not for feelings or for people we love. Closure simply does not exist emotionally, not in a pure sense. We cannot close the door on the past as if it didn’t exist because, after losing someone dear to us, we never forget that person or the love we shared. And in some ways, we never entirely get over the loss. We learn to live with the loss, to integrate it into our new identity. Imagine if we really could end this chapter in our life, completely. It would mean losing our memories, our connections to those we love.

If we really found closure, it would ironically hurt even more because the attachment would be severed. And this attachment is vital to us—the memories are treasures to be held close, not closed out. Perhaps it is better to think in terms of healing. Yes, we can process our pain and move to deeper and deeper levels of healing. Yes, we can find ways to move on and channel our pain into productive activities. Yes, we can even learn to smile again and laugh again and love again. But let’s not ever think that we’ll close the door completely on what this loss means, for if we did that, we would unwittingly close the door on all the love that we shared. And that would truly be a loss too terrible to bear.

Mourning a Lost Child - A Psychologist's Grief

Grieving the Death of Your Son or Daughter by Laurie Pawlik-Kienlen


Mourning a lost child never gets easier, but it might be comforting to know you're not alone in grieving the death of your son or daughter. If you're suffering through death of your child, you might not feel so alone when you gather with other mothers who are also mourning their lost children.

Here is an excerpt from Charlotte Mathes' book, called And a Sword Shall Pierce Your Heart Moving from Despair to Meaning After the Death of a Child.

Mourning a Lost Child - A Psychologist and Mother Shares Her Grief ~ When a child dies, we lose our commonsense faith in life's predictability. The unanticipated early death cuts through what we have formerly assumed is a natural order of things, shaking the very foundation of our living. When a son or daughter dies, all we believed comes into question and we feel as if we have no standpoint.

There is a saying to the effect that we only understand our lives after we have suffered disappointment: "Life is what happens to you after you make your plans." Once we had ideas about what coming years would bring to our family. After the death of our child, however, we find ourselves thrust into a period where, while there is no foretelling the future, we suddenly have no plans, and our dreams have been shattered.

How different this is from the sadness we feel when an older person dies. If she has lived a full life and dies naturally, we may miss her, reminisce about all she meant to us, and perhaps wish that we had taken more time to appreciate her. We also come to acknowledge that life brings a series of losses, and we may even understand that they are somehow necessary, or at least part of everyone's experience. But the death of our child attacks our understanding of life's rhythm and purpose, leaving us wandering in unmapped territory.

Grieving the Death of Your Son or Daughter

After John Kennedy Junior's plane crash, Lauren Basset's parents and Carolyn Basset Kennedy released the following statement: "Nothing in life prepares you for the death of a child." Though it had been twelve years since my son's death, I wept when I read those words, for they brought me back to when I was unprepared for my struggles with his illness, for his death, and for the challenging grief work required to once more be fully alive.

Today's women mature knowing much about how to deal with expected milestones: sexual experience, marriage, professional life, working motherhood, and even divorce, remarriage, and menopause. That which we don't already know, we feel reasonably confident of learning from abundant resources which are easily available to us.

Consequently, we don't anticipate a life-changing event -- mourning the loss of someone you love -- that puts the core of our being in doubt. Even those who have experienced much tragedy in their lives are unprepared for a child's death.

Without self-pity, Ruth first summarizes her many losses before coming to her stark conclusion: "My life has been full of pain. As a child, I experienced coming from 'the wrong side of the tracks.' My father and mother left me when I was thirteen and I had to find other caregivers. My little sister died when I was eight; my father died when I was twenty-two.

My oldest son had cancer of the bone at age eighteen. My first and only grandson was born with Down's syndrome. He had open heart surgery and was in critical condition for two weeks. My husband had open heart surgery and died two years after Tom committed suicide.  None of this has been as devastating as my son Tom's death."

Excerpted from And a Sword Shall Pierce Your Heart: Moving from Despair to Meaning After the Death of a Child by Charlotte M. Mathes, LCSW, Ph.D. Copyright © 2006 Charlotte Mathes. Published by Chiron Publications (September 2005).

Valetine Message

~ By Annette Mennen Baldwin

VALENTINE MESSAGE

I send this message to my child

Who no longer walks this plane,

A message filled with love

Yet also filled with pain.

My heart continues to skip a beat

When I ponder your early death

As I think of times we’ll never share

I must stop to catch my breath.

Valentine’s Day is for those who love

And for those who receive love, too

For a parent the perfect love in life

Is the love I’ve given you.

I’m thinking of you this day, my child,

With a sadness that is unspoken

As I mark another Valentine’s Day

With a heart that is forever broken.

By Annette Mennen Baldwin, In memory of my son, Todd Mennen, TCF, Katy, TX

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.