Stop Looking in the rear view mirror... 

~ by Cherie Houston

I originally wrote this in the Fall of 2011 - and must admit I read it quite often to remind myself of the importance of "looking ahead"..  Two weeks ago, the 5th year anniversary of my 36 year old son Bobby's death came-we had a memorial mass and most of our family joined us for breakfast including all 12 of our grandchildren, 2 of whom are his little boys.. I have to admit that these last six months have been very difficult for me - who knows, maybe I'm finally facing the reality of it all...  But I know I'm not alone, so I thought I'd share this with you again and hope that you can find it helpful.. and now that none of us is alone on this unpredictable journey of finding that new normal after the deaths of our children...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Within months of our son Bobby’s death in September 2009, my daughter-in-law Jennifer (Bobby’s wife) and I and several friends met this amazing woman – Maureen Hancock…Maureen is blessed with several talents, one of which is helping people who are dying to become comfortable with what’s happening – the majority of her clients are children… Maureen is blessed, without a question, in being able to understand their fears and concerns which almost always have to do with the family they will soon be leaving behind..

Recently, Maureen made the following statement about one of her patients..

I met the bravest woman last week~Mary A. She's down to the wire with her battle with ALS. She has a beautiful family that surrounds her in blankets of love. Her one question..."Will I get to see my children grow up?" YES! I assured her. For all those healthy & reading this w/children...are you watching them grow up? Don't live to work, work to live. Maureen Hancock

When I heard this, I thought of all of us who have lost our own children who often become so lost in our own grief and longing for our child who has died, that we unintentionally, but sadly forget about our family who is still living…Not that we mean to, but it is so easy to dwell on what we’ve lost, that sometimes we lose sight of what we still have…  

It’s so important to begin to look and move forward – we can’t change what’s happened or what is behind us, but we can certainly have an impact on what is happening today at this moment and appreciate all the blessings we have – our own siblings, our significant others, maybe we are even blessed to have other children, grandchildren, nieces, nephews, aunts, uncles, our own parents or in-laws, friends, associates – so many people who care about us..

Yes we all need to think about spending a little more time looking ahead instead of in the rear view mirror before it’s too late…

Thank you Maureen for this reminder...

Maureen Hancock is a nationally renowned spirit medium, teacher, lecturer, holistic healer, and author of the book, The Medium Next Door; co-founder of the non-profit organization, Mission for the Missing, providing assistance and equipment in missing children and adult cases. Maureen is an associate member of the Licensed Private Detective Association of Massachusetts. She has been featured in numerous articles and can be heard on radio stations around the country - she resides in a small town south of Boston, Massachusetts with her husband, two children and chocolate lab, Ally. Maureen, in my opinion is amazing..
check out Maureen's website:

www.maureenhancock.com

Halloween - The dreaded holiday season is about to begin

There is no doubt that from Halloween until after the New Year, many of us who are grieving can be totally overwhelmed with emotions... even if it's been quite some time since your child died, the memories or lack of them) can haunt us and bring us back to that painful place we try so hard to move from...  

During the next  11-12 weeks we will try to share articles & experiences (some of which we've published in the past) that might help each of us prepare for and get through this difficult time..  Know that you will get through it, but being prepared can help ease your heartache and hopefully find a little...Cherie Houston.

THAT TIME OF YEAR - By Mary Cleckley -BP/USA Member at Large

It’s Halloween time again. Is that thought bothering you? It probably is, particularly if you had a little one who would have been out doing a little tricking and getting a lot of treating that night.

Or, maybe your child was too small or didn’t live to see even one Halloween. That hurts too, doesn’t it?

Sometimes we grieve for what was and sometimes we grieve for what could have been.

Maybe, like me, your child was too old for conning neighbors into treats, but it still is a hard night in the beginning. All special days and nights are. If you have small children who need

to be a part of this special night, maybe a family member or a good friend will accompany them on their appointed rounds. They’ll enjoy the evening just as much and you can

“treat” yourself by choosing to stop the world and got off for a little while. 

If you have no children at home, this may be a good time to close up shop for that one night. Take in a movie – or stay at home and give no inviting signs that say you want to participate in the festivities of the evening.

Do what is comfortable for you. One day you will be able to enjoy treating the little ones again. This just may not be the year. Isn’t it good to know our needs and abilities change as time goes by?

From Halloween until after the new arrives, know and accept that this time of year can be overwhelming, especially the first few years after your child has died, no matter their age.  Go easy on yourself and try to be patient with others - remember those around us mean well as they “encourage” us to participate during the holiday season, but remember you need to do what is right for you and those who love you will understand…

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.. 

It will never be the same...

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

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

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

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

~~ Author Unknown

TEARS, TALK, TIME, AND TOMORROWS

Lovingly written By Debbie Landsman

TEARS, TALK, TIME, AND TOMORROWS

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And tears on my heart.

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

~~by Cherie Houston

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Grief can & does sneak up on you...

~ by Cherie Houston

There's no doubt that many of us try to believe that "in time" our grief will be gone - but those of us who've been on this Journey thru Grief, can tell you that even after many years, there will be times (often when you least expect it) that you will feel sadness and pain... Bobby's death certainly reminds me continually how much I miss his 2 little sisters who died in 1971 and 1972... We also learn to accept the fact that our grief will never be gone it will just get softer...  

It's been 43 months since my 36 year old son Bobby died, and as many of your know my husband Dan and I spend 7 months in Arizona and the summer and month of December in New England with our children and 9 (soon to be 11) amazing grandkids...

Last night as we flew from Vegas back to Boston, out of nowhere, that dreaded sneak attack of grief reared it's ugly head.. I have to admit this happens from time to time when I least expect it...  

I wonder if it's just easier for me to "pretend" when we're in Arizona that everything is at it should be back in New England, nothing's changed, but as our plane grew closer to Boston thru the night, and knowing we'd be back with our family within hours ~ the sad reality that Bobby won't be there this morning, as he always was, to great us and POW...it hit like a ton of bricks...Fortunately on the red eye 1am flight, most people are sleeping, including my husband, so it was easier to allow myself to give in to the grief and heartache...  

But I then realized that it's becoming easier for me to refocus my grief to the joy on Bobby's wonderful life, his infectious smile and all that he has left for us including his beautiful 2 little boys who are now 9 & 10... With time, I'm learning that the more I focus on his life, instead of his death, I'm able to catch my breath, dry my tears, smile and know it's time to continue moving forward... and accept and look forward to my step-son Douglas, being at the airport with our youngest granddaughter Jacobi, and I remind myself how blessed I am... 

I finally got it last night, the name of our moms group... "The Journey from Mourning to Joy:... that's what I was experiencing....


It is amazing how the smallest reminder of our child - a smell, song, photo or a memory from out of nowhere, can send us into an unexpected tailspin. With time however, as we continue to gain strength and knowledge "that we will get thru this", we each will find ways to cope when our "grief" sneaks back up on us...  Here are some tips shared by others...  

Be prepared. Anniversary& specific event reactions are normal, but in time you'll find ways to turn them into opportunities for healing. For example, you might find yourself dreading an upcoming special day, fearful of being overwhelmed by painful memories and emotions, but again, in time, we often find that the anticipation of the "days" are worse than the actual day itself.


Remember the best and try not to focus on the day and events of their death In time, and it's not easy, I hope you can find yourself focusing on all the wonderful memories - even with my little girls who were so young - Randee died within hours of her birth and Robin died before her 1st birthday, Bobby had just turned 36, but despite all the heartache experienced from their deaths, I wouldn't give any of it up - they have each made me who I am today and I love them for it..  

Start a new tradition in your loved one's memory. Bobby's 2 little boys (and now their cousins) have come to believe that dragonfly's represent Bobby's spirit, and planting a tree at their home, and our home in New England & in Arizona in his honor have been a few of the ways we keep his memory alive..  

Connect with others. Draw friends and loved ones close to you, including people who were special to your child. Find someone who'll encourage you to talk about your loss. Stay connected to your usual support systems, such as spiritual leaders and social groups and of course, I think support groups, such as our Journey from Mourning to Joy Group in Lake Havasu, or one in your area, such as The Compassionate Friends or Bereaved Parents, can help us in so many ways...  

Allow yourself to feel a range of emotions. I have learned since the deaths of my three children that it's OK and very normal to be sad and feel a sense of loss, but with time it's also very important to experience joy and happiness-especially if you've been blessed with a wonderful family and friends. As you celebrate special times, you might find yourself both laughing and crying, and that is normal. 

A very wise woman (Joyce Floyd) once told me, Grief is not a sign of weakness-nor loss of faith, it is simply the price of love.. and how right she is!!!

EXPIRATION DATES DON'T APPLY TO GRIEF...

~ by Lynn Hughes - "Hello Grief"

"Certain things need an expiration date. Milk, eggs, mayonnaise, meat, fish… there is a time we need to be done with them, and throw them away… I get all that. But does grief have an expiration date? For some reason, there seems to be an acceptable shelf life..6-12 months, and then grief should be off the shelf, out of the home and permanently removed with the weekly trash service.  If it was only that simple…

The “grief expiration date” myth must come from people who have never experienced a close death – otherwise they would know the truth. Everyone fears facing such a loss. They are hopeful that should death touch their world, it will only take 6-12 months to recover. No one wants someone they love to die. So, until faced with the reality, it’s easier to think ‘this won’t happen to me, AND if it does it will only be bad for a finite, short amount of time and then…there’s an expiration date and it is magically all gone.’ What a wonderful world that would be.

I've heard time and time again there is a societal expectation to “get over” grief in 6 months, and at the longest, a year. Those who aren't grieving believe it, and often those who are also believe it - this sets grieving people up for false, and ultimately disappointing, expectations.

The one year mark looms like some golden carrot over the heads of those who are grieving. It is a symbol of hope that if they make it to the one year mark they will be in a much happier and pain free place.

The reality is they won’t be over it, nor should they be. If someone spent years loving another person, the pain of that person’s death simply will not be removed due to a date on the calendar.

The opposite actually might happen – people who are grieving may feel even more pain in year two because the initial numbness, which often serves as a protective barrier at the onset of loss, has worn off and they begin experiencing the full intensity of their feelings and grief. This is accompanied by the realization that life with loss  is their “new normal.”

I lost my mother at 9 and father at 12. I remember feeling the expectation of a grief expiration date myself. I remember being 15, five years after my mother died and three years after my father died. If I had a tough day missing my parents, people looked shocked, or avoided the subject, or avoided me. Sometimes I would hear insensitive comments, like “ aren't you over that?” Or when someone experienced a more recent loss, I would get “Oh, poor [so and so]. What a tragic loss.  Aren't you glad you are over that now?”

I remember beating myself up and doubting how well I was coping. If you allow yourself to believe there is an expiration date for grief, you will start to think you aren't doing well if you still miss your loved one 5, 10, 20, 40 years after the loss. In reality – it’s normal. And it’s okay.

This is what I know to be true:  Grief is a life-long journey. 

Grief is an emotional handicap you get up, and live with everyday. It doesn't mean you can’t lead a happy life, but it is a choice, and takes work. The frequency and intensity of those grief pangs/knives should lessen over time, but the reality is every now and then for the rest of your life, you will feel those pangs. Everyone grieves at their own pace, and in their own way. There is no one way to grieve, and no certain order, and no timeline. There is definitely not an expiration date.

Grief will take on different forms in different people. Not everyone cries; others cry all the time. Some exercise a lot. Others talk about it a lot. Many seek counseling or join a support group, and enjoy the company of a good and understanding listener.

If years after your loss, thinking of your loved one missing a special day or milestone in your life, makes you sad, puts you in a funk, or makes you cry, don’t beat yourself up. Allow yourself the ability to grieve the loss of memories not created. As long as the frequency and intensity of grief eases—even if it is slowly over time—you are coping in positive ways. 

Alternatively, if years after the loss, you can’t bear the mention of your loved ones name, you sleep all day, you aren't participating in your normal everyday activities, you do things to “numb” or escape your grief, those are warning signs that you are not coping well, and should seek the assistance you need to begin healing.

Grieving in a healthy manner, taking steps to move forward, and rebuild your life with a new normal, doesn't mean you won’t have those tough days or tough moments.

There is no expiration date. Grief never fully goes away. That doesn't have to mean you can’t and won’t live a happy and productive life. What it does mean is the love you shared with loved ones lost, doesn't have an expiration date either"

Surviving the death of your child...

Thank you to Jeanette Moss from Bellingham, WA for sharing this with us - it was sent to her by her sister in law shortly after Jeanette's 31 year old son Michael's unexpected death in 2010 and like many of us who find comfort in certain articles, feels this one helped her tremendously to know she "wasn't crazy" and she would survive her unimaginable loss.  Cherie H.

The Death of Your Child: How Does a Parent Survive? Written by Ron Zurko in July 2009

"I have a piece of my soul missing and will until the day I die. Parents are not suppose to out live their children and there is nothing on this earth to prepare you for the emotions when you do. My son has been dead for four years now, and I am not sure if time has made it easier to cope, or if I have been desensitized to the feelings from the years that have gone by. Either way time has made life easier to live and I am thankful for that.

The first few weeks after losing my son are some what of a blur. The funeral and visits from friends and family are not something I remember clearly. I was in a fog, or so over come from grief that I might have been in an undiagnosed state of shock. I do remember wanting to stay in bed constantly and I would only get up after major coaxing from my family and friends. At the time I had wished that they would all go away, but looking back now, I realize that without their support I do not know where I would have been today.

There is no one word that can accurately describe the sadness I felt constantly for the first month. I could not watch television with out feeling angry about people laughing or smiling as they carried out their sitcom. How could life go on after something so horrific and dreadful happening. I remember feeling anger at friends when they would make small talk about their daily goings on. It was not their fault, everyone was doing their best to bring me back from the endless black hole of grief that had over come me. There was no distraction or respite from the feeling of dread that was in every bone and pore of my body. It was steady and although sleep took me away from it for a short time, upon wakening it flooded back into my head so quickly it made me nauseous.

The guilt of being on this earth with my child gone was overwhelming. The constant state of mental pain had me searching my soul for something to make it go away. I just knew that this was the end of my life as I once knew it . I thought I would never experience happiness again and just live in this hollow and painful state. I was wrong, You can learn to live with the emptiness and void that is present after losing a child.

A month had gone by since the death of my son and I realized that the pain I was feeling would subside for short periods. By this time I had started back to my daily house hold routine, I wasn't ready to return to work yet. If I made a graph of my feelings, it would look like peaks and valleys. Sometime the pain and dread were right there and it surrounded me, almost like the first day that this happened. Other times it felt like it was further away and I could breath easier and see clearly. A friend of mine compared the ups and downs to a spiral. It comes in quickly and goes out quickly. I was spending less and less time in bed and doing little things that gave me pleasure, like baking or gardening.

My friends and family were very present in my life during this time. If they did not drop in for a visit, they would call every day. This was helpful to a point. the distraction was very welcome but I found it awkward that everyone was talking to me about everything except my son who had died. It was so apparent that their words were being chosen very carefully through all of our conversations. If I mentioned my son, a sad look would appear on their face and they would quickly change the subject. I know it was done in my best interest by trying to keep me from experiencing the painful feelings all over again, but I felt hurt by these gestures.

I was very sad that my son had died, but I would not feel better by forgetting him. He lived and was loved and for twenty five years he was in my life. I needed to talk about him to feel the warmth in my heart by remembering the wonderful life we had together. Six weeks had gone by and I decided to return to work. My co-workers were a wonderful group who had called me often while I was at home. The hardest part returning to work was the first greeting from everyone you came upon. "I am so sorry", was repeated frequently throughout that day . The first week back at work, I again experienced the same phenomenon from them as I did from my family and friends. Everyone went out of their way, blatantly so, as to not mention my son.

I needed to talk about about my son and the good things in life that he shared with me. By doing this I was able to change my sadness into a warmer and happier feeling. As time went on I was able to share this fact with the people closest to me and soon their conversations became less and less guarded. I cried often through out the days and weeks that followed , which is normal and probably a healthy way to deal with overwhelming pain. I let myself experience the daily grief, but I found by searching for wonderful memories, such as my son at the beach fishing, I would start to feel better.

Two months after his death I started to function close to normal. I have learned to live with the loss of my son by carrying his memories close to my heart. I talk to him at times, and tell him I love him and miss him terribly. I do this for me. I feel a connection to his soul and I know of no other way to communicate. I am sure he is in a much better place than we could ever hope to find here, on this earth. I also know that I will be with him again someday. No matter where or what that might be. For those of you who think it is nothing, then I will be in nothing along side of him. But for the majority of you who know that there is something, you know that we will all be there together someday. This brings me comfort.

Death is a part of life. None of us will ever escape it's fate. The hole that is torn from your soul after the death of your child will always remain. Fill it the best you can with all the warm memories that you have. 

Carry them with you and embrace them, for they are something you will never lose. Love cannot be put to death and that is something that will always remain between you and your child. It is like a line connecting your souls until you meet again. And you will."

Holidays of Sadness

~ by Brigitte Synesael

When you have lost someone very dear to you, the most difficult obstacle to cross is getting through the holidays. Surviving the days where everyone around you is celebrating and spreading good cheer, while your mind is filled with memories and your heart is heavy with loneliness. It’s difficult just making it through what used to be the happiest days that were once shared with our child or loved one, and today carries only emptiness. The greatest challenge is to remain in the company of others who love you, when you really want to be alone with your sadness.

It makes no difference whether the loss took place last week, several months ago, or even last year. The holidays always send those deep emotions flooding right to the surface.

Just as how you deal with grief is personal and individual, so is the way you handle the holidays. Remember to be true to yourself, and don’t take on too much responsibility. Let people know that your plans may be subject to change, and you can’t make long term commitments just yet. Be honest with yourself and with your friends and family about how you’re feeling.

Some people find it best to start new traditions, because the past ones hold memories too difficult to deal with. Talk with your family about setting expectations. Plan together any modifications you will all make to the “normal” holiday festivities. You may want to have a church service dedicated to the memory of your loved one. Or make an annual donation in his/her name. Perhaps join the Hospice Tree Lighting ceremony. Bring joy to another child by purchasing a special toy for the Angel Tree in memory of your child.

Be honest about how you’re feeling, but when ever possible, try to include a positive twist into your thoughts. Instead of : “I miss my ….. so much, there is no Christmas without him/her.”  TRY “I do miss my ……. Christmas will be different this year, but I will try to enjoy it.”  Instead of: “I HATE this time of year. I can’t wait until it’s over.”  TRY “This is a difficult time of year for me. But it does give me an opportunity to become closer to my family and friends.”

Some people heal best by helping others. Try volunteering at an organization who help people with a greater need than yours. i.e. A soup kitchen, a homeless shelter, orphanages, etc. Often the best therapy is helping others. Aside from the obvious benefits of keeping your mind occupied and seeing that there are others in worse situations than yourself, charity work gives you a tremendous feeling of fulfillment. It can give you a renewed sense of purpose, so important during times of sadness.

Above all else, give yourself permission to enjoy yourself, to laugh, and to find peace. Each of these things are part of healing. Your life will never be the same, but it will go on, and it can still be good. Close your eyes for just a moment ~ bring into the room with you the clearest image of the person that you have lost. Now say “I love you and I miss you. You will always be in my heart. I need to know... is it okay for me to be happy again?”

Now, imagine the answer that you receive. If you remember your loved one in their true light, I’m confident the answer will be YES.  Find peace over the holidays, and be good to you.

~ About the Author: Brigitte Synesael is recognized as an authority on Alternative Medicine Information. A published author, one of her latest releases is  "You've Got Nothing To Lose But POUNDS!" 

As parents do we ever really say Good Bye??

~ by Cherie Houston

I recently read that two of the hardest things to say in life are “Hello” for the first time and “Goodbye” for the last time…I’d never thought about it until I read this, but how true..  But as parents can we ever really say goodbye to our children – even when they die…  I believe Gandhi is right when he says:  There are no good-byes, where ever you'll be, you'll be in my heart. ~ Gandhi

My daughter Robin Marie died forty years ago today.  We were living in Dallas, Texas – Robin was 7 months and 2 days old – Robin was born Dec. 29^th, 1971 – just 9 months after her twin siblings..  She was already pulling herself up in her crib & playpen and was holding on and could walk around the couch – all the time smiling with the proudest sense of accomplishment.  We’d been to the pediatrician the day before she died. "She’s doing wonderfully & thriving" we were told – she received the usual vaccines – and it was an uneventful afternoon and evening and she went down that night as usual.  A Close neighbor friend of ours was there that evening, she had just had a little girl and couldn’t find a christening gown she liked, so I had I pulled Robin’s christening gown from my hope chest for her to borrow…

A little before 7am the next morning I awoke to the most horrible screams of anguish – it was my husband – he’d awoken and gone in to give Robin her bottle in her crib with a beautiful eyelet canopy, in the red white & blue nursery that she shared with her older brother Ricky.  Ricky was 9 months older than Robin and with the noise of his daddy he also began to cry… I’m not sure what made me call 911 before I even got out of bed, but I did.  I don’t remember what my husband may have said that made me do that, but I did.  By the time I got to the nursery, which was just steps away from our room, her daddy was sitting on the floor rocking her, begging God not to let this happen again, not to take our second child..  You see 16 months prior, when Rickey was born, his twin sister Randee Marie had died the day after she was born, they were 12 weeks premature and she just wasn’t strong enough..  We were blessed that Ricky did survive (and I might add that today Ric continues to thrive and has 2 beautiful children of his own – a 12 year old son and 8 year old daughter, whom is named after his twin sister and ironically was born on the same day Randee had died, March 17^th, 31 years later…

That morning, 40 years ago, the moment I took Robin from her daddy*, I knew she was already with her sister Randee in heaven. I’ve never been one to lock our doors, so the Police, Fire Dept and EMT’s had no problem getting into our home and in moments our beautiful nursery on the 2^nd floor was filled with first responders, tears, questions and I remember praying that God would just take us all…. After that everything gets hazy.. I don’t remember who or how Rickey was taken from his crib, or how we got downstairs, but I vividly remember being downstairs in our living room when the EMT’s took Robin from our home. My poor husband*, her dad, was totally numb and overcome with grief…  As the EMT’s came downstairs carrying Robin, I remember 3 things – watching one of the first responders on our back patio crying inconsolably and being comforted by another officer and my yelling at him to stop crying (I learned later that it was his first day back to work after losing his own 4 month old son to SIDS);  I also remember looking at her beautiful christening gown laying on the dining room table and wondering why it was last night that I'd taken it out - the Christening wasn't for another few weeks; and I remember them asking me if we wanted to say good-bye, I remember telling them I would never say good-bye and then I remember crying and thinking the tears would never stop...

But the tears did stop, I'm not sure how but there were calls to make, arrangements to be made.  We were in Dallas, Texas and all our family was in New England - I knew we needed to take Robin back to Massachusetts to be her little sister; I knew we needed our families around us.  I also remember apologizing to our neighbor Beth that I couldn’t loan her the christening gown because I wanted Robin to wear that… and then the tears began again....

Within hours we were flying back to Boston and stayed in New England for several weeks – we were blessed that our close friends in Texas took care of the nursery including removing all of her things and buying Ricky a big boy bedroom set and redoing the room with stars and planets.  I remember the tears coming again when Robin was buried on August 6^th with her little sister – but still I couldn’t say good-bye..  The tears continued on and off for many months. I can remember sometimes feeling as though I couldn’t possibly have any tears left; there were days when I would scream – at anyone or anything – just scream as though I were insane; and I vividly remember picking up a jar of baby of food in the grocery store & breaking down when I realized I no longer needed to buy it, and leaving everything where it stood as I ran to the privacy of my car, again the tears wouldn't stop...  

I was blessed to have several reasons to continue on – first I had to take care of my 16 month old son Ricky, who was too young to understand what had happened but missed his playmate terribly and would look for her everywhere so we talked about her all the time he and I; then Dr. Sturner who was the Dallas Medical Examiner and became my mentor as I quickly immersed myself in establishing the first SIDS chapter in Dallas – which for me saved my sanity for sure-meeting other families help me to cope with all the mixed feelings of guilt, anger and whatever else there may have been going on in my mind at the time…and last by not least, was the fact that I became pregnant again, with my son Bobby – who was born the following August 27^th, 1973… 

Looking back now I remember how hard it was to say “hello” to Bobby for the first time and how the tears came without warning - mixed tears of joy and sorrow; and when Bobby died 36 years later on Sept. 19^th, 2009 the tears came again, but I also made a conscious decision again not to say good-bye.  I know that they are not nor will they ever be physically with us again, but I just don't feel it is necessary to say goodbye to any of them - to his sisters Randee Marie in Mach 1971 or Robin Marie in July 1972, and I'll not say good-bye to Bobby either… 

I am blessed to have 3 guardian angels (4 actually because my grandmother Mae is with them I believe) and I talk to the 4 of them continually.  I believe they are responsible for my always getting the best parking space no matter where we go and how crowded it may be, they are the dragonflies who visit us often and in states where dragonflies normally don’t frequent; and I’ve been blessed not to dream of any of them, which is probably best so I’m never tempted to say good-bye..…. 

I do talk to them often but I also believe it is so important for every parent who loses a child to have people to talk to  - people who will let you talk and who don't judge what you say....  I’m convinced that this rarely can be a family member because family is also hurting, family and most friends are simply too close to the situation.  We each need someone who will let us say anything that needs saying, whether it hurts or not.  After my girls it was Dr. Sturner in Dallas and the countless parents I worked with thru our SIDS chapter; since Bobby’s death it has been the wonderful moms of our Journey from Mourning to Joy group where we live in Lake Havasu City, AZ – their founder Joyce Floyd called me within weeks of Bobby’s death and Joyce and her “team” (all moms who have been on this same journey) have been my rocks and inspiration ever since that first call weeks after Bobby's death and then of course each of the moms who share in this and so many other blogs….  If you aren’t one for support groups, then find a minister, health care professional, counselor or even a even a grief hotline, which are manned by people who are trained to listen – many of whom have been where you are…

As much as we love our family, friends, spouses, siblings etc. it’s important to understand how very personal and unique grief is to each of us – there is not right or wrong way – we each have to find our own way through it…  So for me, it's not good-bye - it is "until we meet again"!  and yes the tears still fall on days like this....

*Note-I wish someone like Kelly Farley and the Grieving Dads Project had been around for my ex-husband (the father of my 3 children who have died) 40 years ago.. So many dads, like him, are never able to cope with these loses and by not facing or dealing with the grief, so many aspects of their lives suffer for years o come.....

“Some people come into our lives and quickly go. Some people move our souls to dance. They awaken us to new understandings with the passing whisper of their wisdom. Some people make the sky more beautiful to gaze upon. They stay in our lives for awhile, leave footprints in our heart, and we are never ever the same”  ~ Chicken Soup for the Soul 

What is Normal Now?

How many times since my children have died, have I thought to myself “normal” what is that? Doesn’t anyone understand that I will never be who I was before my children died, my “normal” will never be the same again…  After the deaths of each of my three children (Robin in 1971, RandeeMarie the following year in 1972 and then Bobby in 2009) I returned to a very different normal – because I was very different and the world around me was different.  Yes they are gone, and although I'm so grateful to have 2 wonderful sons, 2 great step-sons, 5 fabulous daughter-in-laws and been blessed with 9 incredible grandchildren, that doesn't erase the fact that I have 3 children who are not here and at times that in itself seems overwhelmingly painful to accept..  Time softens the pain, but out of the blue there are moments, that even though it's been more than 40 years since RandeeMarie died in 1971 and Robin died in 1972 and within a few months it will be 3 years since my 36 year old son Bobby died - it still takes my breath away...   My “normal” at times seem to change like the winds…  I found this article the other day when I was going through some papers Joyce Floyd had sent me shortly after Bobby died and I was amazed at how accurate it was about “my new & ever changing normal”.  I hope you will take some comfort in it also…  For me, articles such as these always help to remind me that I am okay, that I’m not crazy – that I’m simply a mom, who is missing my children… Cherie Houston

WHAT IS NORMAL NOW?  ~ by Vicki Windham, Platte, NE, BP/USA chapter~ 

• Normal is trying to decide what to take to the cemetery for Christmas, birthdays, Valentine’s Day, Easter. 
• Normal is feeling like you know how to act and are more comfortable with a funeral than a wedding or a birthday party.  Yet, feeling a stab of pain in your heart when you smell the flowers, see the casket, and all the crying people.
• Normal is feeling like you can’t sit through another minute without screaming because you just don’t like to sit through church anymore.  And yet at the same time feeling like you have more faith in God than you ever had before.
• Normal is having tears waiting behind every smile when you realize someone important is missing from all the events in your family’s life.
• Normal is not sleeping because a thousand “what ifs” go through your head constantly.
• Normal is having the TV on the minute you walk into the house to have some ‘noise’ because the silence is deafening.
• Normal is telling the story of your child’s death as if it were an everyday common event and then gasping in horror at how awful it sounds.  And yet realizing it has become part of normal conversation.
• Normal is each year coming up with the difficult task of how to honor your child’s memory and birthday, and surviving those days.
• Normal is a new friendship with another bereaved Mother and meeting over coffee and talking and crying together over your children.
• Normal is being too tired to care if you paid your bills, cleaned your house, did the laundry, or shopped for groceries.
• Normal is hiding all the things that have become “normal” for you to feel, so that everyone around you will think you are “normal.”  

The first years of this grief journey...

The death of a child - a child at any age - is such a traumatic, life-altering experience.   At first, you can't even comprehend the facts, no matter how hard you try to absorb them - your heart isn't ready...  It's not denial, because in those initial hours, days and weeks, denial isn't even possible yet because you truly can't comprehend what has and is happening around you.....  


In the days, weeks and months to follow, ever so slowly you allow yourself to relive those initial moments over and over again - each time allowing yourself to "stay in those initial moments - just a little longer"..  Initially it's as though we are dreaming and if we can just dream a little longer we can change the outcome...  With time, we stay there a little longer trying to absorb our surroundings and what we are hearing - eventually we stay there as long as we do, not wanting to let go - for fear if we accept what we are being told - we will begin to let go of them and all that they were to us...  I think all of these moments are simply a way of our brain "bracing us" for the horrible truth & facts, yes our brain fortunately will only allow it in, in very small doses, bits and pieces at a time..  


The first year after my 3 children died I think we are always preparing for the next "first" very much like a new parent - only these firsts are all so frightening...  Those "first" holidays - birthdays, anniversaries, milestones.. And then of course all the every day things that can knock the wind out of us as though we've been punched! The pictures, songs, foods, smells, opening of closets & bureau drawers or even the door to their room or home, all of the simplest of things that we will eventually recognize and call "grief triggers" - those things that can catapult us without any warning back into the depths of that black hole...  Finally, just as we begin to prepare ourselves for the first anniversary of our child going home to heaven, to earning their wings, yes, it's 365 days later and so many of us have this misconception that we will finally begin to feel just a little better, and then we realize - we won't..  Not yet - we still have a long way to go on the journey..

Although we will feel different as we move forward on the journey, because thankfully the depths of our grief will never return to those initial dark hours, days, weeks and months...  But understand, that grief is a journey and the first year is simply the worst and most frightening part of the journey...  But as time goes on, accept that this journey will continue.  Differently of course, but it does continue...  

Many moms who've traveled this journey before will softly warn "newly bereaved moms" not to be surprised if the second and third year of grief are actually more intense in a different way,  than that first year. It is different - because again remember when we look back on that first year it so often feels like a bad dream, a total foggy blur..  Even for moms and dads who returned to work soon after, when they look back later - most remember very little about that first year - our brains never allow us to relive excruciating pain of any kind - and the heartbreak of losing a child is the most excruciating pain we will ever endure... Furthermore, we can't imagine how we made it through, but we did!! 

In the second and subsequent years, the reality really sets in with a piercing, almost "stop your breath" intensity. Be prepared - this is normal - no you aren't going crazy - your heart is continuing to heal, it just takes time..  This pain of grief is simply the price we pay for loving our children as much as we do...  


Continue to be patient, loving and gentle with yourself as you stay the course and continue on your unique journey - it is a journey from mourning to joy and yes, eventually you will find peace and joy and a new normal that works for you....  In the meantime, know that you are in the thoughts and prayers of all your sisters in grief..  ~ Cherie Houston

Accepting My Child's Death; What this means to me

~ Written by Judy Bruner (sent to us for sharing by Sharon M Collingsworth – Montpellier, VT - who recently lost her 11 year son Matthew and said this gives her hope that she isn't going crazy - something most of us can certainly relate to..)

I am a mother who has lost a child. Because of my daughter's death in 1998, I have found the need to reach out to other parents who are also dealing with the loss of a child. I got an email from another "Angel Mom" whose son died two years ago, she was telling me about a trip to her doctor and discussing the meaning of acceptance. She had visited her doctor and told him of her depression. Like so many who do not understand the depth of pain that a parent lives with after a loss such as this, he asked her if she had "accepted" her son's death. She was very upset by this and told me in no uncertain terms that she would never, ever accept his death.
Having just recently made it through the 5th anniversary of my daughter's death, and being in tremendous pain myself in the recent months, I took the time to think about what acceptance meant to me. As the 5th year date approached I found myself in almost as much heart wrenching pain as I was when she first died. I was taken back to those last days of her life. Replaying the scenes over and over in my mind. Dwelling on all the "what-if's" and the "why's". Feeling the ripping out of my heart as the emergency room doctors told me that my child was gone from this earth.
Now having gotten myself through those painful days I feel as though I am back at where I started five years ago and am once again trying to find my way along this painful journey called grief. I have come to the conclusion of several things and would like to share what I have discovered.
I told my friend this: Sometimes it just hits. It's that time of year for me. I think it's better to cry, scream, yell, whatever it takes, than it is to stuff the pain inside and let it eat at you. It has to come out sometime, better now than later. We both know that it's a part of this journey, and we all go through those times.
I used to feel that if I accepted Ashleigh's death.....which for me meant to stop trying to find all the things that I should have done differently and to stop blaming myself and being angry that she was gone. I thought that if I accepted the fact that she was gone; then it meant that it was alright with me. That I no longer cared that she was gone from this earth.
I thought that if I began living again; eating, sleeping, taking care of myself, allowing myself moments of joy, and enjoying the life of my surviving child, then it would prove to the world that I had moved on. That I had forgotten Ashleigh and what her life meant to me.
I now know that those things are not at all true. For me acceptance means that I accept the fact that my daughter is not here anymore because I have no choice. But I do not have to like it! I accept the fact that my life is never going to be the same again because I cannot change it or bring her back. Everything is different now. Nothing is the same as it once was. I have to find a new normal.
I accept the fact that she was a wonderful, loving child, and I was lucky to have had her in my life! I accept the fact that the sun shone brighter, the grass was greener, the sky was bluer, and the air smelled fresher when Ashleigh was here.
I also accept the fact that it's okay to be sad and to feel the pain. This is the absolute worst loss that any human being ever has to face, and I am doing the very best I can dealing with it now. I have learned to take all the time I need to feel the sadness when it overcomes me. Over time, I will be okay. I just have to get through the valley of tears first. I accept that it's okay to miss her and to cry for her. After all, who decides how many tears are enough? There will never be enough tears to show how much I loved this child.
I have decided after five years, that it's also okay to find a way to live with all my feelings put together. That is the key. I do accept it, but I don't have to like it or be happy about it. I just have to do the best I can with what I have left and carry her with me as I move forward.

Holiday Family Gatherings

Families gather for both sad and happy occasions. Happy times and sad times often bring families closer together.

During the Holidays, just like weddings, graduations families gather to celebrate. During these times, everyone is expected to be happy. Relatives and friends want you to join in as you have in the past. But now, without your child, it is difficult - painful - and in that first year, often impossible..

For many, having family around is healing to have their support; for others these gatherings can be overwhelmingly painful reminders of the child that is and will never again be present.

Yes, family and friends usually provide the most comfort and listen as we try to cope with the loss of our child. But even the closest of relatives and friends cannot completely understand the hurt we feel - Preparing for what is to come can help make these gatherings easier for you...Remember...

Friends and relatives want...

• to take your pain away ...
• to offer you HOPE for better times ...
• to see you "back to normal again" ...
• to help you "forget about what happened."

But try to realize and accept BEFORE the gatherings that...

• no one can take your pain away ...
• there will be better times, but they will be different without your child ...
• your life does not feel like it will ever be "normal" again ...
• your heart is breaking and it's okay to be sad and cry...
• you will never forget your child...

But know that with time, you will find:

• a new normal
• new traditions or modify those you've had in the past
• Joy, although very different, joy will return to your heart again
• and build new memories
• peace and rejoice in the memories of your child…

Remember to be patient with yourself and others...