On a Child's Death

There are so many poems I keep in my nightstand for those nights when sleep is illusive and the stark reality of a future that is changed forever, you know that heartbreaking reality that we re moving forward in the time "after a child's death" - yes those nights that seem to hold me in their grip.. it is poems like these that help soften the pain and heartache  and sadness of losing my children... I hope that when we share poems like these, that you also will find them a source of peace..  Cherie Houston

ON A CHILD'S DEATH

~ BY Virginia Ellis

All heaven was in mourning,  The day that young man died;
When He closed His eyes, they said, Ten thousand angels cried.

The angels shed their many tears, Because He was God's Son;
But there is a special sadness, When God takes the very young.

At times like that, I question God, Why let a child die?
I cannot understand it, And I need to ask Him why.

I, too, have heard the angels cry, I've heard them cry first hand;
For I, too, gave up a child, And I've tried hard to understand.

Yes, I received God's comfort, Though I'm grateful, I want more;
I want reasons;  I want meaning, I am a parent who's heart-sore.

God can give, and God can take, I am well aware of this;
But, why my baby ... why my child?
Why did God put him on His list?

Did I love my child too much? Was he too good for this old earth?
Had his purpose here been filled?  Was that why he was taken first?

I awake each day with questions,  I fall asleep at night, the same;
So many times I ask God why,  I'm both saddened and ashamed.

But then, in reflective moments, When my prayers are most intense,
One word keeps going through my mind, Patience ... patience ... patience.

Maybe now is not the time, To explain this great heartache;
Even if I knew God's reasons, What difference would it make?

Can't I just be grateful, For any time we had?
Accept God's action without question? Why is that so very bad?

What's my hurry ... why my pressure? Is my faith not strong enough?
God will explain it when He's ready,  Surely I can trust that much.

God understands my broken heart, He, too, gave up a Son;
He knows the pain of one lost child, He weeps with me, and we are one.

Just as I talk to God each day,  I talk to my precious child;
I blow him kisses, and I say,  "See you, honey, in a while."

CHOOSING LIFE....

~ Marcia Ali; Reprinted from the BP/USA St. Louis Chapter Newsletter

“It will never be the same.  Never.”  As a bereaved parent you have often heard or said these words to express grief’s profound feelings of sorrow and disorientation.  Your life has suddenly taken an unexpected course and that appears both uncharged and endless.  Bewildered you vainly search for pathways back to your former life, until you confront the reality that there is no way back.  Your child is dead forever.  It is then that you may say, “never the same.”

This is the aspect of the grief that Simon Stephens calls the Valley of the Shadow.  It is that very long time between the death of your child and your reinvestment in life.  Between.  It is not supposed to be a permanent resting place.  Although some people do take up residence in the Valley, it is a transition from the death of your child to life with renewed purpose.

The key to this transition is yourself.  You must choose between life and the Valley.  You and only you can decide.  And you must make that decision again and again, each day.

Giving in to the hopelessness of the Valley is tempting.  Choosing to move on toward life requires a great deal of work.  You must struggle with the pain of grief to resolve it.  It is a daily struggle full of tears, anger, guilt, and self-doubt.  But it is the only alternative to surrendering yourself to the Valley.

Little by little you choose to move on.  Little by little you progress toward the other side of the Valley.  It takes a very long time, far longer than your friends or relatives suspected.  Far longer than you had believed – even prayed – that it would be.  When one day you find yourself able to do more than choose merely to live…but also how to live, you will know you are leaving the Valley of the Shadow.  There is more work to do, more struggles and choosing.  The Valley, however, stretches behind rather than in front of you.

When you have resolved your grief by reinvesting in life, you will be able to realize that nothing is ever “the same.”  Life is change.  We would not have it be otherwise, for that is the Valley of the Shadow.  Change has the promise of beginning and the excitement of discovery.

LIFE is never the same.  Life is change.  Choose life! 

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."

Why Clichés Drive Us Crazy

Why Clichés Drive Us Crazy
~ by Erin Linn

Erin Linn is well known to members of the TCF community. Her first book, CHILDREN ARE NOT PAPER DOLLS, was written after the death of her six-year old son, Michael. Her growing interest in the bereavement of children resulted in the publication of her second book, I KNOW JUST HOW YOU FEEL, which addresses the topic of clichés and what people can say to a bereaved person.

In 1974 my six-year-old son Michael was hit by a car and died instantly. Before this tragic accident, I had no idea it was possible to hurt with such intensity. When others would speak of their losses, I really thought I understood. I would say things like "Time will heal" or "I know just how you feel." Then I would retreat into my own little world of security and thank God under my breath that it wasn’t me. I did hurt for these people, but it was so hard to relate to a level of pain that I, myself, had never experienced . . . .until Michael died.

Throughout our lives most of us spend some time being comforted or being in the comforter, being consoled or being the consoler. Both roles are painfully difficult and, at time, can be overwhelming. It is human nature to want to reach out and help those who are in pain. When we know of someone who is grieving, we offer words that we hope will both soothe and comfort. Unfortunately, our soothing words may be the most feared of all verbal weapons -- the cliché. By its very definition, a cliché -- a trite and commonplace expression -- is misused, misunderstood, or overworked.

How to approach the bereaved person is something that people have agonized over since the beginning of time. How often have we said or heard someone say, "What can I say to them?" How often has the bereaved person asked, "Why did they say that to me?"

Clichés are a manifestation of our innate inability to deal with a grieving person, and unfortunately, clichés are inevitable. If we analyze the problems with clichés, then, hopefully, we can learn how to defend ourselves against them. First of all, many clichés tend to focus on the future and do not deal with the real problem – the actual pain of the bereaved person at that very moment; For example, sayings such as "You’re young and you will be able to make a new life for yourself" or "There is no sense dwelling on the past" tend to discount the immediate pain of the bereaved person at a time when the future seems impossible to comprehend. When your child has died, you will feel stuck in "yesterday," and even getting through the existing day will seem to be a monumental task. "Tomorrow" is out of the question, and the future can seem light-years away.

Secondly, clichés too often express how the consoler thinks the bereaved person "should" feel, and usually this is in direct contradiction to how the bereaved person really feels. "You should be over this by now" is possibly one of the most offensive and destructive of all clichés, because it is usually said long before the full effect of the loss has even begun to sink in, and it causes bereaved people to think that there must be something terribly wrong with them if they are still grieving. It is a cruel quirk of fate that most grieving people are just beginning to realize the depth of their despair at the time when those around them presume that they are almost healed.

Another problem with clichés are that they try to give profound answers and easy solutions to overwhelming problems. How often have we heard it said, "Only the good die young." If this is true, then shouldn’t we all pray for death at birth? If it is true that "God never gives us more than we can handle," then why do people commit suicide or attempt to obliterate reality through drug abuse? "He is happy now for he is with God" could cause a severe knee-jerk reaction such as "Wasn’t he happy with me?"

Also, many clichés are true if taken at face value but are too difficult for the bereaved person to believe in the midst of his grief. "Time will heal" sounds so easy and it is usually true, but in the beginning it is hard for any bereaved person to believe that the unbearable pain will ever stop. "If you look around, you can always find someone who is worse off than yourself" is certainly true, but who wants to feast on the misfortune of others?

Last but not least, clichés can place expectations on a bereaved person that are impossible to meet. "You’ve got to get hold of yourself" sounds like good, sound advice but is obviously said by those who have never lost a child and have never experienced despair. William Shakespeare so aptly put it when he said, "Every man can handle grief but he who has it." "Big boys don’t cry" – will someone please tell me why big boys can’t cry? Where did this ridiculous cliché come from? Crying is therapeutic. The tears shed in sadness have a different chemical makeup from those shed in laughter or physical pain. Maybe this cliché would be more accurate if it read "Big boys don’t cry – if they are inhuman."

Now that we know how ridiculous and inadequate most clichés are, let’s explore why people say these things. In defense of the consolers, I truly believe that their intentions are honorable and they really want to help. What may appear as insensitive comments from friends and relatives can really be words of love – sometimes they are simply expressed in a clumsy awkward way. As bereaved person, try to keep in mind that the comforter is, also, searching for answers and ways to deal with these tragedies.

Our society suffers from a severe lack of death education. It has only been within the last fifteen years or so that we have begun seriously to research the bereaved person’s journey through grief. Death – not only ours but that of our loved ones – is the one thing (along with taxes and clichés) that we will all have to face at some point of our lives but is the last thing we want to read about, hear about, talk about, or learn about.

As a result, reactions to the grief-stricken are more well-intentioned than well-informed. Clichés have been accepted as comfort far too long. Consequently, we tend to fall back on things that are familiar and comfortable in times of stress, and these stale phrases tend to perpetuate themselves from one generation to the next.

Most consolers feel a need to say something profound. There is a desperate need for the comforter to supply an answer or provide a remedy for the bereaved person’s pain, lest they fail to really help. Most comforters cannot accept the fact that a hug and three simple words, "I am sorry," is all they really need to say. If we speak from our hearts with all the honesty and love we each possesses, these canned remedies – clichés – would not be a necessary. Why can’t people just say, "I feel so terrible that I don’t know what to say."

As a bereaved parent, there are a whole medley of clichés that you are sure to hear. Some you will find comforting, and others will be terribly upsetting. A cliché that at first may give you great solace may be one that you will come to detest as time goes by. They will range from the ridiculous to the sublime. You will hear such remarks as "God needed some flowers for His garden in Heaven, new sheep for His meadow, new angels for His baseball team," or heaven forbid, you could even hear "At least now, you have one less mouth to feed."

Although unintentional, clichés can be hurtful and harmful. These misunderstandings and miscommunications can greatly inhibit the grief process. Some clichés may make you feel abnormal, maladjusted, or even unholy.

Friends and relatives may be the worst offenders. Our expectations of those close to us are so high that it is inevitable that at least one of our loved ones will disappoint us by saying the wrong thing or not saying the right thing.  It is easy to agonize over things that are said to us. Hurtful words seem to stay with a bereaved person longer and might cause pain and anger that may never be resolved.  Because of increased sensitivity during times of mourning, what might have been said as an innocent remark by the consoler could be construed as terribly hurtful and hateful by the bereaved.

As awful as some clichés can be though, it is usually better to be hit in the face with a bad cliché than to be tortured with silence. The most painful words can be those that are unspoken. It can be unbearable to go back to work and have nobody mention your child’s death, to be at a family reunion and have nobody mention your child’s name. This "conspiracy of silence" can be worse than all the bad clichés that were ever written.

I hope that you now have a better understanding of clichés and how you can control your reaction to them. You can choose to be offended by them, or you can choose to brush them off as another dumb statement said by someone who doesn’t know what he is talking about. 

We can even go one step farther. Instead of just reacting to clichés, how can we go on the offense?  This may seem too much to ask of a bereaved person because grieving can sap a person’s strength and energy. But if someone were standing on your foot in a crowded elevator, wouldn’t you ask him to move? Of course you would. Then why should we let people stand on our feelings without saying something about it? We must let our needs to known, instead of begrudgingly accepting the painful words that are said to us.

Because it is traditional in our society for bereaved people to smile in public and cry in private, we give the message to the outside world that we are all right. This is misleading, but it is a game we are all forced to play.

Because of these ground rules, we must give some degree of understanding to the comforter, who in most cases is reacting to our "acting." We are not helpless. We do have choices.

Someday we will once again be called upon to set aside our role as the comforted and become the comforter. Hopefully we will have improved in both wisdom and understanding so that we may become the comforter that we would have wished for in our own despair.

The Holiday Army

~ by Andrea Gambill

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

May your season be filled with genuine blessings of peace.

The holidays will never be the same, but....

~ Excert from Susan Apollon’s book, Touched by the Extraordinary, Book Two: Healing Stories of Love, Loss & Hope

"The holidays will never be the same again," she says. "That is true. But life is change, by its very nature. Little by little you will form a new identity and learn to connect with your lost loved one in a different way. You'll form new memories and new traditions. Grieving well can lead to spiritual growth, which means that life itself can become richer and fuller after a profound loss. You'll never forget the person you lost, but you will find joy—even holiday joy—again."

Realize that miracles really do happen at the holidays. Here's the thing about the holidays, says Apollon. They really are magic. You knew this as a child but may have forgotten it. But spiritual occasions like holidays allow us to step outside the box we live in most of the time and let miracles in.

"Paradoxical as it sounds, grief and holidays are a lot alike," she reflects. "They both help us detach from trivial things and focus on what's important, what's real. Open your mind and heart this year and see what happens. Maybe you'll feel a sense of connection with your loved one who passed on, or maybe you'll feel joy for the first time since your loss. Either one might qualify as a miracle."

"It's healthier to feel the sadness and loss than to detach yourself from it," she says. "It's right and normal to grieve; just don't make it the dominant part of who you are."

Remember, says Apollon, the holidays won't always be such a struggle. If you work through your grief instead of repressing it, you'll find joy again.

Preparing for the Holidays

~ by Kenneth J. Doka, PhD, MDiv, Sr. Consultant to HFA; Professor of Gerontology at the College of New Rochelle in New York.

“When we are in the midst of grief, the last thing we may want to think about is the holidays. We may have little desire to participate. We may simply refuse to make plans, wishing the holidays would quickly, if not painlessly, pass.”

     The holidays are tough when we are grieving a loss. Holidays are centering moments in our lives, full of memories. We remember the Thanksgiving the oven broke down, the Hanukkah or Christmas gifts we received. It is very easy for our longing for someone we miss to become intense.

     There are other reasons the holidays can be tough. We often see reminders everywhere:  the perfect gift or a holiday card addressed to the person who died. They are stressful and busy times. This stress is difficult to bear when coping with grief. We might feel so out of step with the season. Our sadness seems magnified against the joy of others. Finally, in the midst of winter, we may feel more isolated and alone, the deepening darkness a reflection of our inner being.

     That is why it is essential to plan. We need not spend a great deal of time thinking of holiday menus or planning the perfect gift or care. I am speaking of something more important – planning how to get through the holidays.

     The danger is drift. It is easy in the stressful times of the holidays to surrender our decision making to well-meaning others, like the sister-in-law who will not take no for an answer. The result is that we find ourselves drifting into activities that are tiring, painful, or that don’t meet our needs.

    The first thing we need to do is to choose. What activities do we really want to do? What activities do we need to do?  What doesn't need to be done this year? We might decide to not send cards or host a dinner.

     As for the activities we choose, we must find the best way to do them, consistent with our own needs. For example, if we decide to give gifts, we might consider how we wish to do this. Do we simply send a check, shop from the Internet or a catalog, or shop with a friend?

     With whom do we wish to spend the holidays? Who can be present with us as we grieve? Who will understand that we may not be our usual selves?

     Sometimes it is a choice not to make a choice. Grief is often a roller-coaster experience, full of ups and downs. Grace knew that. So she decided that she would keep her options open until that very morning. She knew she would spend some time with her in-laws, but would wait until that day to see where she was on that roller coaster before committing to a particular schedule. We need to remember to remain flexible. For Tom, he decided to take his own car so he could leave when he was ready, rather than be obligated to wait for others.

     We need, too, to recognize the individuality of grief. For some of us, the holidays are difficult and stressful. There may be others of us who welcome the diversion  and find comfort in the bustle of activity. Still others of us might find ourselves torn between both feelings. It is the range of reactions that makes our grief unique.

     Once we have made our choices, we should communicate those decisions to others. Part of that communication is listening to others. That may add a third “C” to our holiday plans – compromise.

     The holidays are approaching so we need to plan. But we may want to remember this recipe:

Choose, Communicate and Compromise

Some Suggestions for Thanksgiving (and other holidays)

~ By Diane Zarnkoff, TCF, Simi Valley, CA

Throughout our lives, expectations of things to come are based upon past experiences. If, in the past, you had set a glorious table and were the perfect host or hostess, it is very possible that friends and family will expect more of the same this year. They may not be aware that you are not looking toward the holidays with a fun and games attitude. They probably do not know that in anticipation of  Thanksgiving, Christmas and Hanukkah, you may feel anxiety and fear.

They are probably thinking this year will be different and some sadness will accompany it, but I don’t think they are aware of your anguish, especially if it’s been “awhile.”

I would like to suggest to you that in fairness to yourself you need to be honest about your feelings and, just as important, you need to communicate these feelings to those around you. I really don’t think it is necessary for you to believe that because you set a tradition and always made the turkey, fried the latkes, and always had the family over, you need to feel obligated to do it again this year.

Perhaps you would like (and need) to tell everyone:

• Someone else will have to do dinner this year.
• You want to make dinner in your home, but you need lots of help because you don’t have the energy to do it.
• You want to go to the parties, but you are afraid you may break down and cry or want to leave in a hurry and you want them to know in advance this is really okay.
• You want to tell them it’s okay to talk about your child. Not to, makes it very uncomfortable.

 The list goes on, but the point is that to pretend everything is “just fine” is a lie and that’s not fair to you or to the people who you love.

Grandparent Grief - Helping Your Grieving Child (part 2 of 3)

Grandparent Grief - Helping Your Grieving Child (part 2 of 3)  Continued from Blog Posting on September 27th,2012..

~ By Margaret H. Gerner

One grandmother told me: Timmie's death is tearing me up, but seeing my daughter, Terry, in such pain is much worse. She is so different. The sadness I see in her eyes haunts me. Nothing pleases her. She's not interested in anything. All she does is talk about Timmie. She tells me she just wants to die so she can be with him. She cries and cries and there isn't anything I can do to make it better for her. I don't know what I'm going to do.

I felt like Timmie's grandmother. While I knew what Dorothy's needs were, and I tried to meet them every way I could. There were times I doubted that anything I did helped. I wanted to "kiss it and make it better;" and I wanted her better now. Without a moment's hesitation, I would have gladly taken her pain myself. I missed my precious Emily, but the feelings of helplessness around Dorothy's pain were even greater.

This is the hardest part of being a bereaved grandparent. There will be times you feel that nothing you do makes a difference. You will think your child will never "get over" this. But remember, the grief will not always be as intense and devastating as today, and your help will be forever appreciated.

The most important thing you can do is to understand your child's grief. If you have never lost a child yourself, then read The Bereaved Parent, by Harriet Schiff or any other book you can get your hands on that will help you to understand the unique, intense grief that is part of the loss of a child. Be assured, your child is not emotionally ill. There is no grief exactly like that which comes with the loss of a child.

There are several factors that make parental grief unique:

Loss of Part of Self - The parent/child relationship is the most intense that life can generate. The child was literally a part of the parent at one time. When you lose a child, you lose a part of yourself.

Loss of Meaning - Children give direction to life. Rearing and providing for them becomes a primary goal. With a child's death, even if there are other children, this goal changes. Life seems meaningless.

Loss of Support - Expectations are that parents will lean on each other and support each other. Parents themselves expect this, but it rarely happens. Each parent is so debilitated by grief that neither has the energy to support the other. One mother said, "It's impossible to lean on a tree that is already bending." Loss of support takes many forms.

Different grieving styles can create problems in a relationship. One may grieve openly, with much expression. The other may grieve inwardly and quietly. It is difficult for parents with opposite coping styles to respect the other's way of grieving. The inward-griever doesn't want to see the constant crying and lamenting of the other. The open-griever doesn't think the other one cares or has feelings. This leads to wrong assumptions and misinterpretations of feelings.

Changes in sexual activities can create problems, too. One may want the warmth and intimacy that intercourse gives them, while the other may suddenly find sex repulsive.

Guilt and blame can also prevent support. One may blame the other for real or imagined wrongs. The one blamed may withdraw with intense guilt feelings. This can create a wedge that may take professional help to resolve, especially if, in fact, one was somehow involved in the death.

 This series is continued in our next Blog Posting – Part 3, on October 5, 2012

Insights on Grieving By Zig Ziglar

Zig Ziglar is an author and considered by many to be the most incredible motivational speaker ever - his life experiences are a continual inspiration to so many - this short list are from his book, Confessions of a Grieving Christian - We hope you will find some, if not all, helpful on your journey...

Acknowledge the grief and allow the process to occur.

 Don’t impose limitations.  Grief is intensely personal.  Don’t try to control how you or others grieve.

 Don’t expect grief to be logical.  Allow for contradictions…..the laughter, the moments that sadness is forgotten, sometimes, the sense of relief when death finally comes.

Recognize miracle moments and other evidence of God’s comfort:  A burst of joy in an otherwise sad season, a song or some other reminder of the loved one in a way that eclipses the sadness.

PRAY..… TALK TO GOD about the needs of your family and ask Him to help you not feel alone in your grief. 

Don’t make any effort to hold back the tears.  It is not a question of being brave.

Do not forget the person who has died or deny the intricate ways the person was a part of your life.

Allow the grieving person to just TALK.  Don’t be afraid to give HUGS in silence.

It is never too late to write condolences.  Often, a letter received months later comes at the most appropriate time.

Do not say God “took” the deceased because “HE needed him or her in Heaven.” God does not need us; we need HIM.

Do not ask for details on the actual death; those facts are extremely painful.                                          

                                          

Grief Triggers as we move forward

There's no doubt that in time most of us will begin to "move forward" as our hearts heal from the most tragic of losses - the death of our child. But you have to know,understand and expect, that despite moving forward and finding that new normal for our lives, there will be times - often when you least expect it - a "grief trigger" seems to come out of no where, like a heavy wind, and knock you down....

In the first few days, weeks, months and even that first year or two - we simply were grateful that we could put one foot in front of the other and get through the day.. As we did, even without knowing it, we were beginning to create the foundation for our new normal - that world without our child... Amazing how our minds worked in those early days to protect us - we didn't or couldn't process what others were telling us about how we should act and what we should be doing, it is only as we begin to build our "new normal" and "move forward" that the comments from others begin to disturb and often hurt us... Remember, you are the one "moving forward" from this tragic loss - don’t let others tell you how you should or should not feel or how long you should grieve - let your body and your emotions be your guide.

But know that as you move forward, certain life events, will generate “grief triggers,” which are simply waves of grief or sadness that will overcome you - like a gust of strong wind, they will take your breath away and often knock you down.. Some of the "grief triggers" we can anticipate and get ready for, such as during the holidays, your child's birthday or the anniversary of their death or other important events in their lives - but the ones that are even more difficult in the years ahead, are those that are triggered by a memory when we least expect them.. seeing a child swinging in the playground, hearing a child singing; maybe it's a song - a smell - or watching a boat on the ocean, or seeing another family member with tears in their eyes - yes these can be the most powerful of "grief triggers".

Here i am 40+ years since the death of my two little girls, Randee & Robin who died in 1971 and 1972 - yet there are still times, when I see a young mom pushing a front facing stroller with a bright eyed little girl, or during the wedding events for two of my sons, or the births of my grandchildren, that those "grief trigger" waves have returned full force, catching me off guard and I have found myself crying and overwhelmed with the "what should have beens"... and that is OK...

By knowing in advance that these "grief triggers" are going to happen, even many years after the death of your child, you will learn that it is alright to be sad as you remember, but you will also find it easier to turn that sadness into a peaceful, happy memory and be grateful for what you had and for the memory of them-no matter how brief; that is acceptance of your new normal and when you will realize you have found peace for yourself and the wonderful memories of your child.

~ by Cherie Houston

Helping Yourself Heal When Your Child Dies Part 4 of 4

~ Dr. Alan D. Wolfelt

EMBRACE YOUR TREASURE OF MEMORIES - Memories are one of the best legacies that exist after the death of your child. You will always remember. Instead of ignoring these memories, share them with your family and friends. Keep in mind that memories can be tinged with both happiness and sadness. If your memories bring laughter, smile. If your memories bring sadness, then it's all right to cry. Memories that were made in love – no one can take them away from you.

GATHER IMPORTANT KEEPSAKES - You may want to collect some important keepsakes that help you treasure your memories. You may want to create a memory book, which is a collection of photos that represent your child's life. Some people create memory boxes to keep special memories. Then, whenever you want, you can open up your memory box and embrace these special memories. The reality that your child has died does not diminish your need to have these objects. They are a tangible, lasting part of the special relationship you had with your child.

EMBRACE YOUR SPIRITUALITY - If faith is part of your life, express it in ways that seem appropriate to you. Allow yourself to be around people who understand and support your religious beliefs. If you are angry at God because of the death of your child, realize this feeling as a normal part of your grief work. Find someone to talk with who won't be critical of whatever thought and feelings you need to explore. You may hear someone say, "With faith, you don't need to grieve". Don't believe it. Having your personal faith does not insulate you from needing to talk out and explore your thoughts and feelings. To deny your grief is to invite problems that build up inside you. Express your faith, but express your grief as well.

MOVE TOWARD  YOUR GRIEF AND HEAL - To restore your capacity to love you must grieve when your child dies. You can't heal unless you openly express your grief. Denying your grief will only make it become more confusing and overwhelming. Embrace your grief and heal. Reconciling your grief will not happen quickly. Remember, grief is a process, not an event. Be patient and tolerant with yourself. Never forget that the death of child changes your life forever. "The experience of grief is powerful. So, too is your ability to help yourself heal. In doing the work of grieving, you are moving toward a renewed sense of meaning and purpose in your life".

About the Author - Dr. Alan D. Wolfelt is a noted author, educator and practicing clinical thanatologist. He serves as a Director of the Center for Loss and Life Transition in Fort Collins, Colorado and is on the faculty at the University of Colorado Medical School in the Department of Family Medicine.

Helping Yourself Heal When Your Child Dies Part 2 of 4

~ Dr. Alan D. Wolfelt

THIS DEATH IS OUT OF ORDER - Because the more natural order is for parents to precede their children in death, you must readapt to a new and seemingly illogical reality. This shocking reality says that even though you are older and have been the protector and provider, you have survived while your child has not. This can be so difficult to comprehend. Not only has the death of your child violated nature's way, where the young grow up and replace the old, but your personal identity was tied to your child. You may feel impotent and wonder why you couldn't have protected your child from death.

EXPECT TO FEEL A MULTITUDE OF EMOTIONS - The death of your child can result in a variety of emotions. Confusion, disorganization, fear, guilt, anger and relief are just a few of the emotions you may feel. Sometimes these emotions will follow each other within a short period of time. Or they may occur simultaneously. As strange as some of these emotions may seem, they are normal and healthy. Allow yourself to learn from these feelings. And don't be surprised if out of nowhere you suddenly experience surges of grief, even at the most unexpected times. These grief attacks can be frightening and leave you feeling overwhelmed. They are, however, a natural response to the death of your child. Find someone who understands your feelings and will allow you to talk about them.

BE TOLERANT OF YOR PHYSICAL AND EMOTIONAL LIMITS - Your feelings of loss and sadness will probably leave you fatigued. Your ability to think clearly and make decisions may be impaired. And your low energy level may naturally slow you down. Don't expect yourself to be as available to your spouse, surviving children, and friends as you might otherwise be.  Respect what your body and mind are telling you. Nurture yourself. Get daily rest. Eat balanced meals. Lighten your schedule as much as possible. Caring for yourself doesn't mean feeling sorry for yourself, it means you are using survival skills.

Part 3 of 4 will be posted on May 14th; Part 4 of 4 will be posted on May 16th

About the Author - Dr. Alan D. Wolfelt is a noted author, educator and practicing clinical thanatologist. He serves as a Director of the Center for Loss and Life Transition in Fort Collins, Colorado and is on the faculty at the University of Colorado Medical School in the Department of Family Medicine.

Infant death ~ Continued ~ Part 2 of 2

~ By Mayo Clinic staff, Shawna Ehlers, Ph.D.

This is continued from our Blog Posting on April 2, 2011: Again, Shawna Ehlers, Ph.D., a psychologist at Mayo Clinic, Rochester, Minn., and an assistant professor of psychology at the College of Medicine, Mayo Clinic, continues to answer challenging questions about coping with infant death.

When my baby died, so did my hopes and dreams for the future. How can I go on?

Grief can cloud much of the remaining good in life, especially in the period right after an infant death. You may find it difficult to invest renewed hope and excitement in any part of your life — but learning to continue living is part of the grieving process. For help making the adjustment, seek support from other parents who've been able to find solace in living. When you're ready, participating in family activities and special occasions can remind you that you're loved and supported.

My partner and I don't seem to be grieving in the same way. How can we find strength in each other? Grieving can take a heavy toll on marriages and other intimate relationships. Accepting your partner's response to grief can be one of the most challenging aspects of grieving as a couple. It can be tough to accept your partner's coping mechanisms if they don't fit your concept of grieving. For example, perhaps you feel closer to your baby by talking about him or her every day — but your partner copes by looking toward the future. If you don't recognize these differences, you may wonder whether your partner supports you or even cares about your baby's death. But the differences don't need to pull you apart. To strengthen your relationship, work toward compromises. You might agree to limited discussion times, encouraging the more talkative partner to supplement the need for conversation with understanding friends or support groups. To respect the other partner's need to look ahead, schedule a social event once a week during which you agree to focus on the pleasurable aspects of your life together.

How does the grief of infant death ever reach resolution? As time goes on, your grief will begin to fade. Eventually you'll find it easier to engage in other aspects of life. The first anniversary of the baby's death and other poignant reminders will be difficult, but they'll get easier with time. Sadness surrounding your baby's death may never go away, but with time it may more closely resemble remembrance than heart-wrenching grief.

A new view of grieving

No doubt since the death of our child, someone has been kind enough to share with us that we must all go through the “normal stages of grief” and then kindly list them for us.… These “stages” were defined as a result of many studies, but the most popular seemed to be based on Elisabeth Kübler-Ross's which resulted in her book: On Death and Dying (Scribner), which was published in 1969.

Although much of that is probably still true, more recent research seems to suggest – as we very well know from experience, that for most people, grieving is rarely a straight passage through discrete phases ending in healing.

To those of us who have gone thru this, we know that this grief journey is a constantly changing pattern, that seems to jump out at us when we least expect it, catch us off guard and then retreat again for brief periods of time, allowing us to catch our breath, some say it's like a roller coaster ride and others compare it to one of those scary houses we may walk thru in a carnival - but no matter how it is described, we often feel as though we have no control over our own reactions....

I came across the following article and I want to share it with you because I think it helps to validate how grief really feels – not nice and neat in a fixed set of “stages” like those we heard about when we got pregnant – but the reality of what we feel and experience. Cherie Houston

Dr. Holly Prigerson states that grief it tends to occur in fits and starts, sometimes quickly, sometimes over a number of years. The way it unfolds varies dramatically, too, depending on whom you've lost and the nature of your relationship. Perhaps more surprising, research suggests that whomever a person is grieving for—a well-loved parent, spouse, friend or child—human beings are surprisingly resilient.

Holly Prigerson, Ph.D., is the director of the Center for Psycho-Oncology and Palliative Care Research at the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute in Boston, and as a result of a study she has done with hundreds of mourners, she discovered that while nearly all people go through a very rough period where they cry, long for the loved one, have difficulty eating and can't concentrate, 85 percent start feeling somewhat better in about six months. Even more hopeful, there are steps everyone can take to help the recovery process along, regardless of whom you're missing.

A new view of grieving - Like life itself, grief isn't something that unfolds neatly, starting on cue with denial and continuing until the mourner reaches the final stage, accepting that the person is gone. In Dr. Prigerson’s two-year study of mourners, Prigerson found that rather than denial or anger, most mourners feel an acute sense of yearning and sadness throughout that fades and eases as time passes.

"There's no orderly progression of Kübler-Ross's hypothetical phases," Prigerson confirms. "It's more accurate to say that the emotions associated with grief exist simultaneously, then slowly decline as feelings of acceptance rise," she explains.

My Angel Baby

The followng introduction and poem were sent to me by one of my students, hoping it might help a young mom who is grieving.  Her own daughter, recently miscarried and lost her first child, my student found this poem for her daughter and thought it might be helpful for another young mom experiencing the tragedy of losing her precious baby..It is from the website:

www.familyfriendpoems.com

Death of a loved one is always a cause for mourning. However, when a baby dies, there is a sadness that goes beyond normal grief. We are programmed to expect that the old outlive the young. When a person who has lived a full life passes away, there is a sense that everything is as it should be. When a baby passes, who has not even has the chance to experience life, his death seems meaningless. If he was meant to die so soon why did he even come into the world?

My Angel Baby

© Heather

I never got to see your eyes,

or hold your hand, or hear your cries.

All I have are dreams of you,

those of which, will never come true.

My heart sank the day that I knew,

I would never get to meet you.

I had made plans, and had aspirations,

if only I had a little more patience.

I never thought the Lord would take you

away from me so soon.

But, I'll never forget that dismal day,

around two in the afternoon.

The day I knew something was not right,

and through many tears I would have to fight.

Now, all I do is dream every night,

about what life would have been like.

What if you really had been born?

But all we have a dreams of that,

and all we can do is mourn.

We will not mourn for you though,

because we know you're where you need to be,

even though it isn't here with me.

You are my angel baby because God wanted you with Him.

Now, forever with his angels, His praises you will sing.

None of my dreams for you will ever come true,

because of that day God chose to take you.

But, my angel baby you will always be,

in my heart forever, forever a part of me

Music and Mourning

An excerpt From the Handbook for Mortals by Joanne Lynn, M.D. and Joan Harrold, M.D.
 For as long as there has been music, there has been music to help people through times of sadness. The origins of most Western music can be found in the Gregorian chants of medieval monks. Sometimes these were written for everyday prayers, but frequently they were written for funeral masses. From those beginnings, a tradition of funeral masses, or requiems, continued in classical music to the present.

Jazz music has long been played at New Orleans funerals. Sad songs are played at first, then happy songs celebrate the deceased and share the joy of his entering a better life. Show tunes, rock and roll, folk songs, and gospel hymns all deal with loved ones dying.

The songs and tunes we hear can serve as a unique companion. In offering comfort, music makes no demands on us at all. When singer and guitarist Eric Clapton’s son died, tragically and suddenly, he wrote a song to him called "Tears In Heaven." This beautiful song struck a chord with many people. For those who had lost a child, hearing someone else mourn a similar tragedy helped them to feel less alone in their grief.

No matter the reason, music helps us turn a flood of emotions into something more manageable. With or without lyrics, melodies communicate and interact with our souls. That is why so many cultures use music, and why some songs cross many cultures with ease.

The music people use is as diverse as people can be -- from electric guitars to trumpets to choirs; from slow and soft, as in Mozart’s "Lacrimosa," to bright and crisp, as in "When the Saints Go Marchin’ In." Often people choose to listen to something that was special to the person who has died. This is guaranteed to bring up memories that may be uncomfortable but may also be healing. There may also be special music which has helped before, in other times of struggle, and may help again now.

What makes music so important to those who grieve? Perhaps listening to music gives us a special time just to think about the people we love. Often our minds are racing too fast, or not moving forward at all, in our initial moments of shock. Having music around gives us a rhythm, a structure around which we can reflect, and grieve. Like a metronome, or deep breathing, it gives a rhythm to our fragmented thoughts.

Music also has the powerful ability to draw out memories obscured by time or emotion. It seems to have a near-magical ability to penetrate through the present day to remind us of other occasions. Sometimes songs and melodies so accurately pinpoint an emotion that they transport the listener to another time and place. In times of grief, this magical quality can recall times and emotions long forgotten because of prolonged illness and strain.

Sometimes in our sadness and shock, we merely feel numb. Certainly this is a protective mechanism, a perfectly normal approach to grief, and nothing to be ashamed of. But sometimes music helps evoke welcome thoughts and feelings

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!"

Surviving the holidays after the loss of your baby

The holidays are incredibly difficult after the death of a child, but especially for young moms after the death of their precious infants – no matter how or when their babies died - before birth or during the first year or two .. Each and every child is precious and having other children doesn't make it easier, but for those mom's who have lost their only child - the holidays can be especailly painful.  For each of you, I hope this article from a young mom, will help you find peace this holiday season…


SURVIVING THE HOLIDAYS  ~ by Peggy Crane

All my life I have dearly loved all holidays. I enjoyed the planning, decorating, family gatherings, and presents. By the time my eldest daughter, Danielle, was about two years old she was a full-fledged holiday lover, too.

In the Spring of 1990 I found out that I was pregnant with my second child and that the baby was due on Christmas Day. Since we had been trying to get pregnant for quite a while, I was ecstatic with the news. The additional bonus of having a Christmas baby only added to my joy. Particularly in the last few weeks of my pregnancy I enjoyed going to church and listening to the familiar Christmas stories full of reminders that a very special baby was about to be born. It was very special to me to rehear the historical accounts of the anticipation of Jesus’ birth at a time when my mind was so full of thoughts about the impending arrival of my own baby. Maegan was born just four days before Christmas. Her one and only Christmas was a beautiful, peaceful day for all of us.

After Maegan died of SIDS at the age of four months, I found myself dreading all holidays. Every special occasion was a sorrowful reminder of the beloved child that was no longer with us. Since Maegan’s first birthday and our first Christmas without her came all at once, this was an especially painful time.

For the sake of my sanity, and to keep the wondrous joy of the holiday season alive in Danielle, who was then five, I sought advice from friends who had suffered similar losses and I read articles on the subject. The following is a summary of the information that I found to be the most helpful:

Be easy on yourself. The holidays will most likely be difficult for you—don’t be alarmed if you find yourself crying without warning. If you can accept these facts, it may help you relax a little bit. Do attend whatever gatherings you most want to go to but don’t force yourself to accept every invitation. Trying to cope with the loss of your child takes enough energy without burdening yourself with a lot of social obligations.

Prioritize your holiday rituals. This may be a good time for you to take stock of the activities you do each year and weed out those that you no longer feel inclined to do. For example, if holiday baking is something you dread, look for a place to buy your holiday goodies or consider swapping with friends. Or, just because you don’t have the energy for an elaborate list of Christmas cards this year doesn’t mean that you can’t resume sending holiday cards next year if you feel more able.

Find a new place to celebrate the holidays. I am so thankful that a friend suggested that we break from tradition and spend our first Christmas after Maegan’s death away from home. We rented a cabin in the mountains for Maegan’s birthday until the day after Christmas. Being in neutral surroundings allowed us to focus on our immediate family, away from the pressures of our well-meaning family and friends. The mountain setting was so peaceful and beautiful that it helped to remind us of the joys of life.

Do something special to commemorate your beloved baby. Many people find that it makes them feel better to make a financial contribution to a charity in loving memory of their baby. You might want to suggest to family members that they take the money they would have spent on a gift for your child and make a charitable contribution. Some people like to buy a toy or clothing that they feel their own child would have enjoyed and donate it to a childrens’ charity. Among other traditions in our home, Santa always leaves a special present for Maegan’s family and we provide the altar flowers for our church on the Sunday when the children’s Christmas pageant is presented.

Do keep an open line of communication with friends and family about how you are feeling. These times can be very awkward for those around us. Many people avoid mentioning your loss, for fear it will make you feel worse. It will most likely be easier for everyone if you bring up the subject and discuss your feelings openly. I think that this is particularly important on the days that are unique to you and your baby such as their birthday and the anniversary of their death. Over and over, I have heard people say that they were thinking of us on these special days but they were afraid to call or to bring up the subject.