MartyT

Dear Friend, It seems to me that your father is sending some very clear signals that should not be ignored (see Suicide Warning Signs). When we see someone exhibiting such signs, it’s important to take them seriously, and to do whatever we can to help. People who commit suicide usually talk about it first. They are in pain and oftentimes reach out for help in this way because they’ve lost hope and don’t know what else to do. I understand that your father is half a world away, but I want to point you to some resources that may enlighten you and give you some ideas of what you might be able to do from here. Begin by visiting Prevent Suicide Now. Reading Kevin Caruso’s opening statement on the home page of his Web site will help you figure out what to say to your father and how to offer him the help that he so desperately needs. I don’t know what country your father is in, but Kevin’s site contains a list of International Suicide / Crisis Hotlines. If your father doesn’t have access to the Internet, you can give him his country’s appropriate hotline number over the phone, and encourage him to use it. You can also print out whatever articles you find and send them via land mail to your father. (See Suicide Articles and those additional resources I’ve listed on my own Grief Healing Web site, at Suicide Loss. Perhaps where your father lives there is a relative, friend or neighbor nearby, whom you could call upon to act on your behalf to help your father. Your father has not yet acted on his thoughts of suicide, and there is still time to help him. Help for your father is “out there” just waiting for you to find it, and I hope that you will think of this as helping yourself as much as it will be helping your father. As Kevin Caruso says, if your dad decides to end his pain by ending his life, he will start a world of pain for you and the other loved ones he leaves behind. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

Oh my dear Ally, Of course there are no words that any of us can offer that will take away your pain, save to say that we are so very, very sorry and we are all here for you, aching with you, crying with you, screaming at the heavens with you, holding you with gentle and caring thoughts. I know that the second anniversary of your son’s tragic death is fast approaching. Having been through this last year at this time, I’m sure you already know that as this day draws near, it is only natural for you to be especially preoccupied with thoughts and memories and details of this horrible event. This anniversary date is an enormous trigger which only intensifies the acute and chronic pain you’ve been experiencing all along. I pray that you won’t take this to mean that you are losing ground, because the progress you have made is real. I pray that all of us who grieve beside you will remember that, although we cannot choose what life has to offer, we can choose how to respond. The attitudes we bring to life’s circumstances are always, always within our control. We can choose to give up and give in, or we can choose to take charge of our lives and keep moving forward. I hope that as you think of your precious son, you will think of happy as well as sad memories, and hold onto the happy ones. The happiness you experienced with your son belongs to you forever. I also hope that as this second year draws to a close, you will plan some sort of a memorial ritual, no matter how private or how small. You can draw on those familiar, comforting ceremonies and activities unique to your religion, culture, traditions, family or way of life. You might use this ritual as your rite of passage through grieving to healing, to mark a shift in the way you mourn, or as an official end to this second year of mourning. However you decide to spend it, I hope you will build comfort and meaning into this special day, and immerse yourself in the healing power of remembrance. Please know that we care and we are thinking of you, Ally, especially this July 14 – and please continue to let all of us know how you are doing. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

Dear Phyllis, While I hope that others will respond by sharing their experiences, too, I want to share with you an excerpt from my book, Finding Your Way through Grief: A Guide for the First Year, which I think addresses your concerns and I hope will alleviate some worry on your part: mystical experiences in grief Of all the various ways that grief can express itself, perhaps one of the most unsettling is to experience the presence of a lost loved one— days, weeks or months after the death has occurred. When one so dear to you is gone, it can be very hard to accept that the person is really dead. You may find yourself thinking and dreaming about your loved one much of the time, and it may seem that everything around you is a reminder of the person you have lost. Once in a while you may temporarily forget that your loved one is gone, and you’ll look and listen for him or her—and maybe even think that you’ve seen, heard, smelled or touched the person. Part of you believes your loved one is there, yet the other part of you knows that’s not the case. At some point you may think you’ve received a symbolic communication or message from the person who has died. Some people find this to be very frightening and disorienting, while others find it to be quite helpful and even comforting. In any case, it’s important to know that such experiences are very common and perfectly normal during times of loss. Sometimes as long as a year after the death of a loved one, people will report sensing (hearing, feeling, seeing) the person in the room. They believe the person is there, yet they also know their loved one is dead. They may feel very foolish or embarrassed— they may be very frightened— and they often wonder, "Am I going mad?" No one knows why grief produces such powerful, mystical processes— but we do know that hallucinations, communications, dreams, visions and visitations are a frequent experience of the bereaved. They are by no means abnormal, and they do not forecast a complicated grief reaction. While some people find them distressing, it is generally believed that such mystical grief experiences have great power and personal significance for the griever, and may be an important if not vital part of healing. suggestions for coping with mystical experiences - Make use of your dreams: record them, or share them with someone who will listen but not interpret them for you. Keep in mind that no one is a better expert at interpreting your dreams than you are. - Don’t judge yourself or others who have mystical experiences, and don’t think there’s something wrong with you if you’ve never had them. Grief responses differ from one person to another, and it is normal to experience a wide range of emotions during the grieving process. - Don’t worry whether such experiences are real or simply a figment of your imagination. If they bring you comfort, does it really matter? And if such an experience is unpleasant or frightening for you, make certain that you talk to someone who will support you. [source: Finding Your Way through Grief: A Guide for the First Year, © 2000 by Marty Tousley, Hospice of the Valley, Phoenix AZ, pp. 22-23.] Your story illustrates why I so often encourage people to learn as much as they can about normal grief, so they will better understand the process and know better what to expect. If you’ve had little or no experience with bereavement, you may be caught off-guard and feel totally unprepared to deal with it when it happens to you or to someone you love. Not knowing what to expect, you may be wondering whether the reactions you’re seeing in your dad (or those you may be experiencing yourself) are normal, and you may be dreading whatever might be coming next. When you’re armed with an understanding of grief, however, and know what feelings and experiences you can normally expect, both you and your dad will be able to face the weeks and months ahead more readily. Since you have access to a computer and a telephone, there is a wealth of information, comfort and support, right here at your fingertips. If your dad isn’t comfortable with the Internet or doesn’t have the energy to do this research himself, you might offer to do some of it with him, or do it on his behalf. You might begin by exploring the pages of my Grief Healing Web site, which contain several articles I’ve written on various aspects of loss, inspirational writings and poetry by other noted authors, lists of recommended readings and categorized links to dozens of other helpful resources. Consider taking (or giving to your dad) an online e-mail course on grief, such as The First Year of Grief: Help for the Journey. Find out what “in person” bereavement services are available in your own community. Use the Yellow Pages and call hospitals and hospices near you. Ask to speak with the Bereavement Coordinator, Social Worker, or Chaplain's Office to get a local grief referral. Many hospitals and hospices provide individual and family grief support to clients for up to one year following a death, and offer bereavement support groups to the general public at no cost. The National Hospice and Palliative Care Organization maintains a database of hospices for each state in the United States. To search for a hospice in your own community, click on Find a Hospice. Although I’m deeply sorry that the death of your beloved mother and your loving concern for your grieving father are what brought you here to us, Phyllis, I am grateful that you found us and that you’ve reached out for help. Like lanterns in the wilderness, we are here to help illuminate the pathway as you and your father travel through the darkness of your loss. The path may be unfamiliar, dark and treacherous, but the light from the lanterns can make the journey feel safer and less terrifying. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

Oh Butch, I'm so very sorry for your loss. Your heart must be breaking into a hundred little pieces, and I can only imagine how much this hurts. I'm so glad you included a picture of your beloved Daisee -- what a face! Those eyes! No wonder you loved her so much -- and the love she feels for you is written all over that beautiful, expressive face! I found this rendition of the Rainbow Bridge just yesterday. I've placed a link to it on the Comfort for Grieving Animal Lovers page on my Grief Healing Web site, and I share it with you now in hopes that it will bring you some measure of comfort. I've a feeling that your precious Daisee is there right now, waiting . . . Please know that you are in my heart tonight. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

Oh my dear friends! Wouldn't it be wonderful if we all had a network of family and friends who could be present for us, who knew exactly what we needed without our having to tell them, who would bear witness to our struggle, and who would honor our unique journey through grief? Sadly, though, most people in our culture simply don't know what to do or say when someone dies, or they're so afraid of doing or saying something "wrong" that they avoid us and / or the situation all together. Can any one of us honestly say that, until we lost a loved one of our own, we were completely sure of ourselves in the presence of another's sheer, raw grief? Did we always know the "right" thing to say? Were we always the first one on the scene to offer our presence, solace and comfort? I think until it happens to us personally, we simply cannot know how involved and emotionally draining the grief process is, much less how vulnerable we are to the insensitivity and lack of understanding we may encounter from others who've yet to walk this journey. One of the advantages of coming to these forums and reading what is posted here is that we find ourselves among others who are on the same path, and in addition to sharing our own stories of pain and loss, we can practice giving to one another the compassion and understanding we ourselves desire from all those friends and family members who may mean well, but don't know how to comfort us. We have a wonderful opportunity here: to learn and share what helps and doesn't help and to increase our awareness as we reach out to others. As Deidre Felton says, At the moment, take heart from those around you who want to care for you and be present for you in your distress. They don't always know how, they don't always do it right, but they try. Sorrow is a matter of taking turns. This year, it's yours. Next year, it might be you setting the table for someone else who feels that they cannot cope. -- Deidre Felton, in Bereavement Magazine, November/December 2000. In her wonderful piece, What Am I Supposed to Say? How Am I Supposed to Be? Fran Morgan makes these points: My friend’s son died six months ago. Her note to me says, “People ask me how I’m doing and I don’t know what to say. How am I supposed to be doing? I don’t know.” In the beginning she’d say to me, “I feel as though my heart has been ripped from my body.” In a perfect world she could tell that to everyone. But bereaved parents learn quickly in the grieving process that honesty is NOT always the best policy. Some answers I think people would LIKE to hear are: (with a big smile on your face) “Fine! It was a big shock when I first heard two months ago, but now I’m over it!” or (with a big smile on your face) “Oh, we’re fine, we’ve taken up ballroom dancing.” If the definition of “fine” is: Fragile, Insecure, Not Interested in Anything, Emotional then I guess “fine” is a perfect answer. Every psychiatrist, psychologist and therapist I’ve ever read or spoken to says that talking and crying for your deceased loved one is healthy and normal, and crucial to one’s recovery. But in a world where most parents are NOT bereaved, many people have not experienced the hard work of the grief process. We are often put into the position of trying to dream up an “appropriate” answer to the question, “How are you doing?” We try to give the answer that we know the person asking WANTS to hear. Something positive. Often, after telling a person how awful missing our child is they will respond with, “Well, aside from that, how’s everything?” When a person has suffered a physical injury, it is visible (broken arm, cast) and people are solicitous. When one’s soul has ceased to soar and one’s heart and spirit are broken and bleeding, no one can see. Last year, as a contestant in the Ms. Senior America, NY State Pageant I was required to tell the audience my philosophy of life. In advance I rehearsed what I planned to say to a trusted family member, saying in part that I was a bereaved parent, and that whenever I’ve reached out to help another, I’ve always helped myself. I added that I felt all life on this planet is enriched when we have compassion for one another. My well-meaning advisor suggested I not mention I was a bereaved parent, saying, “people don’t want to hear it. They want to hear upbeat, positive, happy things.” My feeling was that for a bereaved mother to stand in the spotlight and show the world we can survive the worst in life, and live life abundantly was a great message of hope! When our son died, there were many good people who reached out to me, and there were many good people who could not. The journey of loss is the most predominant thing in a bereaved parent’s life, but even the most loving family and friends do not have a vast reservoir of patience or knowledge. Education about the grief process, for others AND for us, begins when our child dies. And so we learn conformity to the world’s misguided notions of what our grief “should” be, while being bewildered at the time limit the non-bereaved place on us. (Twenty-five years ago, Jacqueline Kennedy’s tearless, stoic, silent countenance at her husband’s funeral had become the nation’s role model. I think to many it still is.) Recently a friend, referring to a woman who lost her only two children, said that the mothers mentioning them “after all this time” made her uncomfortable. She said, “I have had my share of tragedies, but I don’t believe in talking about them” . . . We learn as we grieve about the “fixers”, who want our grief to be all over, “so we can have a laugh again.” We learn about the “controllers”, who want us to do it their way, and though they’ve never experienced the horrific process they are sure the rules of positivity should apply to us. Dr. Wayne Dyer says that there is only one time in life that positive thinking cannot apply; when we are grieving the loss of a loved one. Last year a woman told her best friend - as the friend was reminiscing about her recently deceased husband, “He’s not coming back, get used to it.” Why? “I wanted to give her a reality check.” Grieving parents hear this type of comment, too. The friend thought she was being helpful. Maybe she doesn’t realize that a griever’s “reality check” begins before she opens her eyes in the morning, when the knot in her stomach is the ever-present signal that she will not see her loved one again in this life. The Eleventh Commandment ought to be carved in stone. “Thou shalt not EVER ask a griever, “How are you?” unless you are a Licensed Loving Listener, ready to listen with your heart. Grief work is hard enough without having to dream up a dream answer. As Jack Nicholson said, “You want the truth? You can’t handle the truth!” In the first years, I thought, ‘say you think of me often, pray for me, tell me you’re proud of me, send me a card, mention his name, hug me....don’t ask!’ Dan Fogelberg sings a good answer to my friend’s question, “How am I supposed to be?” It’s a song called, “Part of the Plan”. “Laugh when you can/Cry when you have to/ Be who you must, its part of the plan/ Await your arrival with simple survival/ And some day we’ll all understand." Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

My dear friend, As one who’s lost both my parents too, I'm so very sorry to learn of the death of your mom and dad within the last five years, and my heart goes out to you. I applaud you for reaching out to find the comfort and support you need at this difficult time in your life, and I’ll offer what I can. First, I note that your dad died just six months ago, and you’re finding that the feeling of loss seems to be getting worse. Actually it is not at all unusual that the pain of losing a loved one seems to intensify around the sixth-month mark after the death. This is known as “aftershock” – when some of the “down” feelings you’ve already experienced in grief come at you again several months after the death, or even after a year or more. Sometimes something acts as a trigger and catches you by surprise: a song, a place, a movie or a season, and it’s as if you’re confronted with the death for the first time, all over again. Painful emotions crash in upon you, and it feels as if you’re starting the entire grief process anew. Even if the strong feelings are not continuous, they can return at any time, whenever you are reminded of your loss. All of this can be quite frightening and confusing, especially if you expected your grief to have been resolved by now and you find instead that, if anything, your pain has intensified. I want to assure you that what you’re feeling is normal and to be expected. You’re not losing ground, and whatever progress you’ve made so far is real. Over time you will discover that these aftershocks pass more quickly each time you experience them. I encourage you to read some of the other messages posted here, in the Loss of a Parent forum, because I think you’ll find that what you are feeling is normal. Sometimes reading the accounts of others who are grieving reassures us that if others can survive the most devastating of losses, then somehow we will find a way to survive as well. Posting messages in these forums is also a wonderful way to connect with others and to discover that we are not as isolated in our journey as we may have thought. Grief is such hard work, and you ought not to be trying to do it all alone. I don’t know how old you are or what sort of support you have around you from other relatives and friends. Since you obviously have access to the Internet, I hope that you've had an opportunity to explore in detail my Grief Healing Web site. If you haven't already done so, please spend some time on each of the pages there, especially my Links page. There I've included links to many other sites which may be useful to you as you search for the help you need. See especially the category labeled DEATH OF A PARENT. My site also contains a number of articles I've written on various aspects of grief (see my Articles and Books page) and many beautiful pieces written by others as well (see Comfort for Grieving Hearts). Since I don't know what “in person” grief resources are available to you where you live, I suggest asking your primary care physician for a referral to someone who specializes in grief or bereavement counseling so you can get some help specifically related to having lost both your parents. You might try calling your local hospice or funeral home and asking for a referral, as well as for information about bereavement support groups in your community, which are usually offered at no cost. (Go to National Hospice Directory to find a list of hospices in your city.) Also spend some time doing a little reading about what normal grief looks like, so you'll have a better understanding of what you're going through and what to expect -- it may reassure you that what you're experiencing is quite normal under the circumstances. See, for example, Finding Your Way through Grief: A Guide for the First Year, or take a look at the on-line e-mail course, The First Year of Grief: Help for the Journey. Have you ever considered writing in a journal about what you're experiencing? I want to suggest a wonderful book which offers "simple yet inspiring writing exercises to help you resolve your pain as you transform your grief into words of hope and healing". The book is Writing to Heal the Soul: Transforming Grief and Loss through Writing by Susan Zimmermann. It's fairly recent, so I'm sure you could find it in your bookstore or on Amazon.com if not at your local library. Please know that we are all holding you with gentle hearts and extending to you our deepest sympathy. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

My dear emcee, My own heart aches for you as I read your tragic story, and I am so very sorry about your beloved little sister. I understand your uncertainty about seeing a counselor, but if I may, I want to gently encourage you to go ahead and do just that. You are so right that your life is forever changed by this death, and to think that you should be able to handle such a life-changing event all by yourself is unrealistic. If you were lying on the ground with a broken leg and a friend offered to take you to the hospital, would you refuse the offer and tell your friend that you should be able to handle this all by yourself? Yet here you are with a broken heart and a wounded soul, struggling with insomnia, chest pain, frequent headaches and all the rest of it, wanting to be alone but desperately needing to talk to someone, anyone who will listen. Some folks are reluctant to seek the help of a professional counselor because they see the need for counseling as a sign of weakness – but it takes strength and courage to let yourself be cared for, and you need not bear your sorrow all alone. Even if you’re grieving in a normal, healthy way, it is wise to use all the resources available to help you recover your balance and put your life back together again. Sometimes friends and family may worry too much about you, get too involved in your personal affairs, or not be available to you at all. When it seems that support from family and friends is either too much or not enough, a few sessions with a bereavement counselor may give you the very understanding and comfort you need. Unlike friendship, a professional counseling relationship offers you the opportunity to relate to a caring, supportive individual who understands the grief process, doesn’t need you to depend upon, and will allow you to grieve without interference. Within the safety and confidentiality of a therapeutic relationship, you can share your intimate thoughts, make sense of what you are feeling and clarify your reactions. An effective bereavement counselor is knowledgeable about the grieving process, helps you feel understood, offers a witness to your experience, encourages you to move forward, fosters faith that you will survive, and offers hope that you will get through this seemingly impossible journey. I hope you will follow through with your plan to see a counselor, my friend, and that you will think of it as a gift you can give yourself. You are worth it, and you deserve it. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

My dear friends, I think one of the hardest things about grief is the pressure we put on ourselves to hurry up, get past the pain we're feeling and "go on". We barely give ourselves time to realize what has happened and react to it before we're wondering how long it wil last and when it will get better. I want to share with you an article by Judy Tatelbaum that appeared in a recent issue of Journeys: A Newsletter to Help in Bereavement, www.hospicefourndation.org. Judy is an experienced psychotherapist, lecturer and educator who has dedicated her life to freeing people from emotional suffering. She is the author of two outstanding books, The Courage to Grieve: Creative Living, Recovery and Growth through Grief, and You Don't Have to Suffer: A Handbook for Moving Beyond Life's Crises. How Long Does Grief Last? Everyone who has ever grieved wonders: How long will this grief persist? How long must I feel sorrow and pain? We don’t like feeling uncomfortable. We detest that complex mix of feelings that grief engenders. We may feel like victims of our feelings, wishing they would just disappear. As a culture, we want everything to be quick and easy. We don’t savor feelings any more than we savor the wide range of our varied life experiences. Like all else that we hurry through in life, we may be obsessed with getting through our pain as quickly as possible. How long does grief take? The real answer is that grief takes as long as it takes – a week, a month, a year or more depending on whom we have lost and how this death affects us. Grief is a process we must move through, not over or around. Even when we can temporarily deny our pain, it still exists. It will eventually erupt in some way, maybe at an inappropriate moment or during another upset or illness. It is always better to admit our strong feelings, to feel them, and to move through them in order to move beyond them. What does getting over it mean? It means not being forever in pain over our loss. It means we don’t forget or stop loving the person we lost. We do not always have to grieve; we can remember without pain. Too often we hear the awful message that we never stop grieving, never get over our loss. When we have no tools for overcoming sorrow, and when the world tries to shut us up, grief does go on longer. The belief that we will never recover from a loss can become a self-fulfilling prophecy, if we let it. When we believe we can recover, we do. It is important to trust that grief is not forever. I believed I would grieve forever when my brother died. I kept sorrow alive for fourteen years by believing it was endless. I didn’t know how to stop my grief. Grief that persists for years can keep us living in the past; keep us from loving the people who are still alive. I was stunted in my grief, afraid to trust, afraid to commit, afraid to have children I might lose. It wasn’t until a good therapist helped me express fully how much this loss hurt me that I was able to stop grieving. No matter how much we may hurt today, we must remember that grief is temporary. Mourning does not have to last forever. We can finish crying and express all our many feelings around this loss. We can find in ourselves the courage to recover and heal. We can begin to live fully and love again. – © 2005 by Judy Tatelbaum, MSW in Journeys: A Newsletter to Help in Bereavement, www.hospicefoundation.org. My hope for you is that you will take whatever time you need to express fully how much these losses hurt you, all the while remembering and believing that no matter how much it hurts right now, this pain will not last forever. It it is the love you have for your mothers, not the pain of losing them, that will last forever. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

Hi Rachel, I'm so very sorry about your mom, and you have my deepest sympathy. To lose your mother in such a sudden, horrible and tragic way must have been devastating for you, and I can only imagine the depth of your pain. Your post calls to mind a similar situation that was described by another visitor to this forum about a year ago, only in her case it was her mother who was, from her perspective, "moving on too soon." I don't know if it will help, but I thought you might want to take a look at this woman's post, as well as my response to her: My Mom Is Moving On Too Fast Please be sure to read Julie Donner Andersen's article too: How Long Is Long Enough? A link to it appears (as an attached file) at the end of my message to SShort. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

My dear friend, You may already be aware of what I’m about to say, and if so please forgive me if I’m telling you what you already know. I want to offer these suggestions anyway, as I think it’s important that others who may be reading this know about them, too. In addition to coming here to our Loss of a Child Forum, I hope you have found someone to talk to face-to-face about this, my friend. The mourning that accompanies the death of a child is particularly intense, complicated and long-lasting, and it is difficult enough without having to do it all alone. Sharing your feelings, reactions and experiences with another (a trusted friend or family member, a bereavement counselor, a clergy person or in a support group) gives you a safe place to express yourself, helps you understand that what you're feeling is normal, and may give you the hope that if others have found a way to survive an unspeakable loss like this, then you will find your own way, too. If you're willing to consider joining a support group where you'll feel welcome and understood, I can think of no better place than The Compassionate Friends, because it is comprised of other grieving parents. You might begin by contacting your local library, mortuary or hospice organization to find out what bereavement resources are available in your own community. See if there is a local chapter of The Compassionate Friends where you live; you can do so by clicking on TCF's Online Chapter Locator. I don't know if you've had an opportunity to explore my Grief Healing Web site, but if not I hope you will do so -- it offers information, comfort and support to those who are mourning the loss of a loved one, as well as links to many other wonderful sites, each of which I've reviewed personally. See especially these sites developed by parents whose feelings and experiences may be similar to your own: Bereaved Parents of the USA The Compassionate Friends CSRA Compassionate Friends Love Never Dies: A Mother's Journey from Loss to Love Wings: Grief Education Outreach Many bereaved parents have their own stories to tell, and in recent years, dozens of books have been written by those whose children have died. These wonderful sources of hope and healing are as near as the Bereavement section of your local library or bookstore. Below are some I’ve read myself and personally recommend. Clicking on the titles will take you to a description and reviews of each: A Season of Grief: A Comforting Companion for Difficult Days by Ann Dawson A Broken Heart Still Beats: After Your Child Dies by Anne McCracken and Mary Semel (Editors) Dreaming Kevin: The Path to Healing by Carla Blowey The Lively Shadow: Living with the Death of a Child by Donald M. Murray Love Never Dies: A Mother's Journey from Loss to Love by Sandy Goodman And A Sword Shall Pierce Your Heart: Moving from Despair to Meaning after the Death of a Child by Charlotte Mathes You say that you feel no passion as you go through the motions of caring for your baby. Since you've been mourning the death of your son for most of your daughter's very short life, I'm not surprised to learn that "going through the motions" is all that you can muster right now. A certain period of "feeling blue" is not unusual following a pregnancy. Given your circumstances, however, you are particularly at risk for developing post-partum depression. I hope that you are keeping your obstetrician and your pediatrician informed as to what's going on in your life, following their advice, and doing all you can to take good care of yourself physically as well as emotionally. Your memorial site for Griffin is profoundly moving and beautiful, and what a lovely tribute to your beloved son. I hope and pray that all the memories that are presented there by those who knew and loved Griffin will bring you some small measure of comfort, and shelter you just a bit from the indescribable pain that is raining down upon you. I have no profound answer as to how you live with this, other than to acknowledge what you’re already doing and pay you my deepest respect for that. As you already know, we bereaved mothers do this just as you are doing it now: one day at a time, and if that is too much, one hour or even just one moment at a time. I happen to think that someone in your shoes deserves a medal of honor just for having the courage to get out of bed in the morning. Please know that we're all thinking of you, pulling for you and holding you in our collective heart. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

My dear Missy, My heart hurts to read of the untimely death of your beloved daughter, and I cannot imagine the depth of your pain. In the quiet moments, when the hurt is hard to bear, may the love you share with your daughter become your shelter, and may the beauty of all your precious memories be your comfort. We are all holding you in gentle thoughts and caring hearts. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

My dear Melissa, I'm so sorry to learn of the death of your beloved brother. Your question is an important one, and I am sharing with you the same response I posted to two other visitors to these forums nearly a year ago, both of whom asked the very same question as yours : As you approach the first anniversary of the death of your loved ones, please know that it is not at all unusual that your feelings of grief will seem to be reawakened as the anniversary dates draw near. In hopes that it will help you make sense of what you are feeling, I'm pasting into this message one of the lessons I wrote for an online e-mail course on grief (if you're interested, you can read more about the entire course by clicking on Course Overview, The First Year of Grief: Help for the Journey). Please know that I am thinking about you and holding you in my heart at this sad and difficult time. Course Title: The First Year of Grief: Help for the Journey Lesson # 22: Setbacks, Aftershocks and the Recurrence of Grief by Marty Tousley As you begin today's lesson, take a few moments to ponder the quotation below: One of my most painful, hurtful, appalling experiences occurred the first time I went to the grocery store after Robby died . . . Every shelf, every aisle reminded me of my dead son. Either the item was something he hated or something he loved. Green beans and hot dogs and peanut butter sent stabs of pain through me. -- Harriet Sarnoff Schiff, The Bereaved Parent In our last lesson you learned how grieving patterns among family members can differ according to personality, gender and age. This lesson discusses how to cope with continuing reminders of your loss. "Sometimes I think I'm doing okay—then something happens and I can't seem to do anything right. I don't have any self-confidence anymore." Setbacks are the unexpected but inevitable frustrations and disappointments you'll encounter in your efforts to rebuild following your loss. They include statements from family members or friends which, intentionally or not, discourage your efforts. They can be your own internal thoughts, feelings and attitudes which have inhibited and debilitated you in the past: rigidity, closed mindedness, self-doubt, bitterness, anger, disappointment, and the temptation to quit. Or they can be external roadblocks stemming from natural occurrences or from bureaucratic rules and regulations you'll encounter along the way. Accept that setbacks are a reality of life over which you have no control. Remember that, although you cannot choose what life has to offer, you can always choose how to respond. The attitudes you bring to life's circumstances are always within your control. You can choose to give up and give in, or you can choose to take charge of your life and to keep moving forward. "As I drove along a lonely stretch of road the other day, I heard our favorite song on the radio and it kept me crying for miles. I thought I was done with all this crying." Aftershocks happen when some of the "down" feelings you've already experienced in grief come at you again several months after the death, or even after a year or more. Sometimes something acts as a trigger and catches you by surprise: a song, a place, a movie or a season, and it's as if you're confronted with the death for the first time, all over again. Painful emotions crash in upon you, and it feels as if you're starting the entire grief process anew. Know that aftershocks of grief are normal, and they will pass more quickly each time you experience them. They can be controlled somewhat by controlling the reminders of your loss, either by disposing of them or deliberately seeking them out. Maintain a balance between what you hold onto and what you let go of. Keep what's special or of sentimental value and when you're ready, discard the rest. Even though some time has passed, are you still feeling frightened and confused, all this time expecting that your grief would have been resolved by now? If anything, does it sometimes feel as if your pain has intensified? Recurrence of grief is common and normal, but disturbing nonetheless. Although the strong feelings of grief are not continuous, they can return at any time, whenever you are reminded of your loss. They may be especially apparent toward the end of your first year, as you approach the anniversary date of your loved one's death. As the anniversary of your loss draws near, you may find yourself preoccupied with thoughts of your loved one's diagnosis, treatment and care, remembering your experience of facing a terminal illness together. Rest assured that what you're feeling is normal and to be expected. You are not losing ground; the progress you've made is real. Getting past this anniversary is but another significant step in finding your way through grief. At this point it is only natural to look back and reflect on what used to be before you can let go of it, move on through your grief, and embrace whatever your life is going to be in the future. "Is there anything I can do to prepare myself for this anniversary date?" Be aware that oftentimes the anticipation of an anniversary date is worse than the actual day. Identify those days, events and seasons that are likely to intensify and rekindle your pain, and build comfort and healing into them. Plan what you're going to do ahead of time, even if you plan to be alone. Don't set yourself up for a bad day. Let your friends and relatives know in advance which days and events are significant for you. Verbalize your needs and include them in your plans. They may be very willing to help, but need for you to tell them how. As this first year draws to a close, plan a memorial ritual. Draw on those familiar, comforting ceremonies and activities unique to your religion, culture, traditions, family or way of life. Use this ritual as your rite of passage through grieving to healing, to mark a shift in the way you mourn, or as an official end to this first year of mourning. If you're feeling anxious, confused or immobilized as a certain date or time approaches, get the reassurance you need by returning to your support group or speaking with your bereavement counselor. "I have so many unhappy memories; how can I ever shut them off?" Handle your memories with care. If they are painful and unpleasant, they can be hurtful and destructive. If they create longing and hold you to the past, they can interfere with your willingness to move on. You can choose which parts of life you shared that you wish to keep and which parts you want to leave behind. Soothe your pain by thinking of happy as well as sad memories. The happiness you experienced with your loved one belongs to you forever. Hold onto those rich memories, and give thanks for the life of the person you've lost instead of brooding over the last days. Build "memory time" into the day, or pack an entire day with meaning. It's easier to cope with memories you've chosen than to have them take you by surprise. Immerse yourself in the healing power of remembrance. Go to a special place, read aloud, listen to a favorite song. Celebrate what once was and is no more. "I don't think about my loved one as often as I used to — does that mean I'm letting the one who died slip away? Letting go of what used to be is not an act of disloyalty, and it does not mean forgetting your lost loved one. You will never forget, because a part of this person remains in you. Letting go means leaving behind the sorrow and pain of grief and choosing to go on, taking with you only those memories and experiences that enhance your ability to grow and expand your capacity for happiness. As you've already discovered, you're never really finished with loss when someone significant leaves you. This loss will resurface during key developmental periods for the rest of your life. You will have to face it again and again, not as the person you are today, but as the person you will have grown to be in two or five or twenty years from now. Each time you will face it on new terms, but it won't take as long and it won't be as difficult. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T AfterTheFirstYearThenWhat.doc

My dear Cindy, I am shocked and saddened to read your tragic story of loss, and I can only imagine how horrible all of this has been – and continues to be – for you. Losing your brother in such a violent and unthinkable manner is so very difficult to accept and to understand – and learning to live with it is a process that takes place not just over time, but over an entire lifetime. This is just too big to take in all at once and way too big for you to digest. You must let it in a little bit at a time over a very long period, as eventually your mind comes to accept what your heart cannot. You will spend a lifetime struggling to come to terms with the "why" of this tragedy, and there will never be an answer that completely satisfies or makes sense to you – but as you travel the difficult journey ahead, I want to suggest to you some things you can do to help yourself. As a survivor of homicide, you can you learn as much as you can about the subject. Read what others have written about it (see, for example, the excellent book by Bill Jenkins, What to Do When the Police Leave; you can go to Amazon.com to order it or ask for it at your local library. See also Bill’s insightful Web site, Homicide: Resources for Death, Grief and Survivors of Homicide. You can visit other Web sites devoted to this subject as well, such as Gateway to Post Traumatic Stress Disorder Information. See the links listed on the TRAUMATIC LOSS page of my Grief Healing Web site for other helpful resources. Such sites will assure you that you are not alone in this tragedy, will offer you some ways to manage your grief, and will help you to recognize that if others can survive this most devastating of losses, then you can do it, too. Please know that we all are thinking of you and holding you in our collective embrace of compassion, hope and love. We cannot take away your pain, but we will not let you bear it all alone. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

My dear friend, I don’t know if you’ve learned Lucy’s diagnosis yet, but please know that we’re all thinking of you and hoping for the best. I understand that you've been through this before with your precious Neus, but that does not make it any easier this time. I’d like to offer some information that may be helpful as you face whatever lies ahead for you and your beloved kitty. As you await the results of Lucy’s tests, you may find yourself experiencing all the emotions of grief in anticipation of losing her. This is known as anticipatory grief, and the physical and emotional reactions involved are the same as those experienced in normal grief. It’s extremely difficult to watch your precious animal's health and quality of life deteriorate over time. If you’re thinking about euthanasia, you may be struggling with anxiety over separating from your cat, uncertain how you'll ever bring yourself to say good-bye. Torn between not wanting to see her suffer and not wanting to lose her, you may continue to go to great lengths to postpone or to avoid the decision all together. Deciding when and whether to euthanize your cherished pet is probably one of the most difficult choices you'll ever have to make. Exploring all aspects of the decision with your veterinarian and with others whom you trust is very important. Keep in mind, however, that in the end, the decision belongs to you and to you alone. And if and when you do decide to choose euthanasia for Lucy, remember that you will be doing it for reasons of mercy and compassion. You will be choosing to end Lucy’s suffering and to create for her a dignified and painless death. Most of us find it very difficult to think about planning ahead for the death of our pets. We act as if merely thinking or talking about the pet's dying will somehow make it happen – or we act as if not thinking or talking about our pet's illness will somehow make it go away. Yet the reality is that none of us has the power to cause the death of another merely by thinking or talking about it – and illnesses aren't prevented or cured simply by choosing not to think about them. Detaching from a cherished pet is just as difficult whether it happens suddenly or over an extended period of time. But having time to prepare for what lies ahead can be one of the more positive aspects of anticipatory grieving. As you come to this difficult decision, I encourage you to use this time to gather information and to think through whatever questions you may have about the actual procedure, so you can discuss your concerns with your veterinarian. Then when the time comes, you'll be better prepared to use your own good judgment based on the reality of your particular situation. I'd like to refer you to the following articles posted on my Grief Healing Web site, in hopes that they'll help you as you make the most of the time you have left with Lucy: Anticipatory Grief: Anticipating the Loss of a Pet Thinking It Through: Exploring Questions about Euthanasia Euthanasia: The Merciful Release The Fourth Day and How Do I Know It's Time? I've also written an on-line e-mail course about pet loss, which (if you're interested) you can get a sense of, at A Different Grief: Coping with Pet Loss I hope this information proves useful to you, my friend. Please know that we are thinking of you, and when you feel ready to do so, we hope that you will let us know how you and Lucy are doing. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

Dear Jo, I'm so very sorry to learn of the death of your beloved father, and I cannot imagine how difficult this journey has been for you and your family. At the same time, I'm pleased to know that you are reaching out for the support you need and deserve, and I'm also pleased that you found your way to our Grief Healing Discussion Groups. I don't know if you've yet been to my Grief Healing Web site, but I encourage you to spend some time exploring all the pages there -- the site offers information, comfort and support to those who are coping with loss. I especially want to direct you to my Links page, which contains categorized lists of dozens upon dozens of wonderful resources, including some that I think you will find especially helpful. Once the page has loaded, you'll see a list of categories, near the top of the page. Click on the category labeled CARE GIVING and see what comes up for you. (For example, I just now visited one of the sites I have listed there, which is the Alzheimer's Association national site, and was able to find a Web site for the St. Louis chapter, at Welcome to the Alzheimer's Association, St. Louis Chapter.) I think you will find these sites especially helpful, as well (see my Links page for connecting links to them): Alzheimer's: Grief Misunderstood (Article by Marianne Dickerman Caldwell) Caregiver Community Caregiving.com: Helping You Help Aging Relatives Coping with Caregiving: Radio Program Empowering Caregivers - Choices, Healing, Love ElderCare Online Facing Death and Finding Hope: A Guide To The Emotional and Spiritual Care Of The Dying (Book) Family Caregiver Alliance: National Center on Caregiving The Forgetting: A Portrait of Alzheimer's National Family Caregiver Support Program I hope this information proves helpful to you, Jo, and when you're ready to do so, I hope you will come back to our Discussion Group and let us all know how you are doing. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

My dear Archie, I couldn’t agree more with everything “diron” has said to you, especially about finding a counselor who will work effectively with you. Not all counselors and therapists are trained and experienced in helping with grief and bereavement, and it seems as if you haven’t yet found the right person to help you with this. I, too, hope that you will keep looking until you find the help you need and deserve. Her comment about different grieving styles is well taken, too. See, for example, my article, Understanding Different Grieving Patterns in Your Family. You ask what is “wrong” with you, and I want to assure you that there is nothing “wrong” with you; you are simply reacting to the fact that you lost your mother at a very tender age and you’ve never really mourned that loss. Grief is not a pathological condition; rather, it is a normal response to losing someone we love. Even though you don’t remember much about your mother, it does not alter the fact that you lost one of the most significant people in your life when you were too young to understand the lifelong impact of that loss – and it’s unrealistic to think that this death would not have a profound effect on you. Since you have access to the Internet, you have a world of information, comfort and support at your fingertips, but I don’t think it’s realistic to expect that this early loss of such an important figure in your life can be fully addressed without finding someone to talk to in person about it, so that your all of your feelings and reactions can be explored, expressed, worked through and released. There are all kinds of resources "out there" in your own community aimed specifically at those who are grieving – you just have to make the effort to pick up your telephone and ask for the help that you need. Call your telephone operator or public library and ask for the numbers for your local mental health association or your local suicide prevention center. Either agency will have good grief referral lists. (You need not be suicidal to get a grief referral from a suicide prevention center.) Use the Yellow Pages and call hospitals and hospices near you. Ask to speak with the Bereavement Coordinator, Social Worker, or Chaplain's Office to get a local grief referral. Many hospitals and hospices provide individual and family grief support, and offer bereavement support groups to the general public at no cost. If one grief support group doesn’t work for you, keep looking for one that feels right to you. As depressed and lonely as you feel, you are in need of support, comfort and understanding, and I hope you will think of this as a gift you can give to yourself. At the very least, I encourage you to do some reading about grief so you'll have a better sense of what normal grief looks and feels like, as well as what you can do to manage your own reactions. This alone can be very reassuring. See the listings on my Articles and Books page for suggestions. If you go to the Death of a Parent page on my Web site, I think you will find some very helpful sources of information. Another alternative is to subscribe to an online e-mail course I've written; you can get a sense of it at The First Year of Grief: Help for the Journey. Also, take some time to read through some of the other postings in this Loss of a Parent forum. Here you will find the real experts on managing grief – others whose mothers have died and who are traveling the same grief journey as you are traveling now. I hope this information proves helpful to you, my dear, and please know that we are thinking of you. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

My dear Tricia, Thank you so much for reminding me of this lovely tradition. I remember when I was a child my father gathering my mother, my sister and me together every Mother’s Day before we went to church, and presenting each of us with a beautiful corsage of fragrant, fresh carnations: white ones for my mother, whose own mother died when she was a child, and red ones for my sister and me. I remember seeing all the ladies in church with their corsages, too. My father explained that the white carnations meant that a person’s mother was deceased, and you wore red or pink ones when she is alive. Nowadays I suppose some will say that the Mother’s Day tradition of carnations and corsages was only a gimmick to help florists sell flowers, and maybe there is some truth to that – but it is a lovely tradition nonetheless, and I’m sorry we don’t see it anymore. Seeing those corsages signified to me that the women wearing them loved their mothers, and if the carnations were white, it signified that those women cherished how much their mothers loved them. I know we’ll never stop people from commercializing Mother’s Day by selling flowers, greeting cards, boxes of candy or meals at local restaurants. But how we feel about our mothers is priceless. I wonder what would happen if we all decided to revive an old tradition – by wearing white carnations on Mother’s Day? Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

My dear Spela, Your post reminds me of this wonderful piece that's posted on the Comfort for Grieving Hearts page of my Grief Healing Web site: The Agony of Grief Grief is a tidal wave that overtakes you, smashes down upon you with unimaginable force, sweeps you up into its darkness, where you tumble and crash against unidentifiable surfaces, only to be thrown out on an unknown beach, bruised, reshaped. Grief means not being able to read more than two sentences at a time. It is walking into rooms with intention that suddenly vanishes. Grief is three o'clock in the morning sweats that won't stop. It is dreadful Sundays, Mondays that are no better. It makes you look for a face in the crowd, knowing full well the face we want cannot be found in that crowd. Grief is utter aloneness that razes the rational mind and makes room for the phantasmagoric. It makes you suddenly get up and leave in the middle of a meeting, without saying a word. Grief makes what others think of you moot. It shears away the masks of normal life and forces brutal honesty out of your mouth before propriety can stop you. It shoves away friends, scares away so-called friends, and rewrites address books for you. Grief makes you laugh at people who cry over spilled milk,right to their faces. It tells the world that you are untouchable at the very moment when touch is the only contact that might reach you. It makes lepers out of upstanding citizens. Grief discriminates against no one. It kills. Maims. And cripples. It is the ashes from which the phoenix rises, and the mettle of rebirth. It returns life to the living dead. It teaches that there is nothing absolutely true or untrue. It assures the living that we know nothing for certain. It humbles. It shrouds. It blackens. It enlightens. Grief will make a new person out of you, if it doesn't kill you in the making. — Stephanie Ericsson in Companion Through the Darkness: Inner Dialogues on Grief Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

My dear Chris, I am deeply saddened by your message and can only imagine how overwhelmed, devastated and alone you must feel. Your entire world has been turned upside down, as you have sustained not only the loss of your girlfriend but also the loss of your unborn child, along with your hopes, dreams, expectations, fantasies and wishes for the future. I am reminded of a poignant piece that is posted on the Comfort for Grieving Hearts page of my Grief Healing Web site: When we’ve changed our religious views or political convictions, a part of our past dies. When love ends, be it the first mad romance of adolescence, the love that will not sustain a marriage, or the love of a failed friendship, it is the same. A death. Likewise in the event of a miscarriage or an abortion: a possibility is dead. And there is no public or even private funeral. Sometimes only regret and nostalgia mark the passage. And the last rites are held in the solitude of one’s most secret self — a service of mourning in the tabernacle of the soul. — Robert Fulghum, in From Beginning to End The grief that surrounds the death of a relationship is real, and so is the grief that accompanies the death of an unborn child. In both instances there are feelings of deep sadness, which may be complicated by the attitude of others that, in the case of an abortion, you don’t have a legitimate right to grieve. People can be very judgmental about these matters, and the support you find from family and friends may be minimal at best. Sadly enough, in the grief that follows an abortion, the person most “forgotten” is the father, whether he is married to the mother or not. And the more conscientious he is, the more guilt and pain he will carry. I want to assure you that you have a right to grieve and to mourn these losses, Chris, and I hope you won’t try to struggle through them all by yourself. As you can see from reading some of the other posts in this Loss of a Child forum, there are dozens of resources that stand ready to help, and I hope you will make the effort to find and utilize some of them. Please pay a visit to the Links page of my Grief Healing Web site, then scroll down,click on and explore some of the many sites listed under the categories labeled DEATH OF AN INFANT / CHILD / GRANDCHILD and DEATH OF A RELATIONSHIP. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

My dear friend, I'm so very sorry to learn that it is the untimely death of your beloved Boogs that brought you to our forum, but I do want to welcome you here. If you want to "tell the world" about your cherished companion, this is the place to do it -- and it does not matter if you're short of time right now. Our forums are here for you 24 hours a day, and if you want to post a message in the middle of the night or at any other time, you are free to do so. Please do come back when you have more time, and tell us all about your baby. The process of writing and sharing your story has the potential of being a very powerful healing tool. If you haven't already done so, please also pay a visit to my Grief Healing Web site, go to the Articles and Books page, and take a moment to read my article, Loss and the Burden of Guilt. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

My dear friend, I can understand your concerns about “seeing [your father’s] coffin all over again” and your wondering if “this will be doing more harm than good” -- and I wouldn’t presume to tell you what you “should” or “shouldn’t” do in this situation – but I’d like to share some information with you (and others reading this) that might help you make some sense out of where you are, and what you may be feeling, at this point in your grief process. For weeks, months, or even years after the death of our loved one occurs, it is normal for the shock of loss to continue in a wave of disbelieving "aftershocks." Think of it as a gradual process of weaning and disconnection. ( “Forgetting” that her loved one is gone, for example, a person may find herself setting an extra place at the dinner table, expecting her deceased husband to walk in the door at the usual hour or to be on the other end of the line when the telephone rings.) Each time something like this happens, we are confronted once again with the brutal reality that our loved one is forever gone. It becomes a sort of tug-of-war struggle between denial and reality, and it is a very necessary part of the mourning process, as gradually and slowly over time, our mind comes to accept what our heart cannot. At times over the six months since your father died, you may have found yourself thinking, “I just can’t deal with this. It’s too much for me to handle right now.” That is denial talking, but it is a defense that serves a very useful purpose in the normal course of grief. Especially in the early months following a death, denial blunts the impact against the brutal reality of the loss, it offers a temporary respite from grief, and it allows a person to process those overwhelming feelings more gradually. On one level you recognize and acknowledge that your father has died, but on another level you’re unable and unwilling to grasp all the ramifications of that reality. Denial becomes a problem only if it is used deliberately to avoid the reality of death or to escape the emotions resulting from a loss. For example, you may be avoiding reality to one extent or another if you: •Speak of your father in the present tense. •Refuse to believe your father has died. •Pretend your father is away on a trip. •Leave clothes and other personal articles belonging to your father just as they were for months after the death, and get very upset if anyone moves them. •Dispose of anything and everything that serves as a reminder of your dad. •Neither talk of your father nor speak his name. •Downplay your relationship with your dad. •Search in an effort to re-create your father’s presence. •Stay so busy with work or travel as to be running away from your grief. •Resort to chemicals (drugs, alcohol, nicotine) to block out the pain of loss. What can you do to help yourself? The following Suggestions for Coping with Denial are taken from my book, Finding Your Way through Grief: A Guide for the First Year: •Understand that denial serves a normal function, especially in the beginning. It is your mind’s way of protecting you from more pain. Besides, your brain doesn’t “get it” because it is loaded with memories of your loved one. Although this person has died, the one you love continues to exist in your memory and in the memory of others. •The goal here is to acknowledge the truth and accept the reality that your loved one is dead. Denial must be dissolved eventually, but there’s no specific time frame. It becomes a concern only if it interferes with your ability to function normally. •In the days ahead, as you find yourself connecting with the reality of your loved one’s death — however gradually — take time to consider the following: •Are you pretending that things are all right when they are not? Try being more honest with yourself and others. •Are you keeping busy with tasks unrelated to the death of your father? Distractions may keep you occupied but don’t help you move toward resolution. •Are you facing up to the truth of your pain? What would happen if you opened up the protective shell you’ve built around yourself? •Have you taken a hard look at what is gone and what remains? Try taking stock, counting, reciting and recounting what’s been lost. •Can you face the fact of the death squarely, by naming it, spelling it out and talking it out? Try replacing delicate words and phrases such as passed on and passed away with more truthful terms like died, dead, and widowed. •Try some confrontations and experiences to jolt yourself out of your denial. Confront the reminders rather than avoiding them — both pleasurable and painful: people, places and situations. View your loved one’s body; visit the grave site; reread old letters; smell a favorite cologne; look at photographs; go to church; listen to songs; gather meaningful sayings and phrases; visit special places; wrap yourself in your loved one’s clothing. •Let others (especially children) see your tears and participate in your sorrow; it shows them know how much you care and assures them it’s all right to feel sadness when you lose someone you love. [source: Finding Your Way through Grief: A Guide for the First Year, pp. 20-21. © 2000 by Marty Tousley, APRN, BC, CT. Publisher: Hospice of the Valley, 1510 E. Flower St., Phoenix AZ 85014, 602-530-6970.] It is evident from your posts in this forum that you are consciously and deliberately moving forward in your struggle to accept the reality of your father’s death, my friend. You’ve shared with us the story of his illness and his last days; you’ve started talking to your dad and writing letters to him; you’re able to look at his photograph now when you couldn’t bring yourself to do so before; you’re considering going for counseling or joining a grief support group – these are all very concrete and positive steps forward, and I want to recognize and honor you for taking them. As for whether to be present when your father’s coffin is moved, consider this: What’s the worst thing that could happen – that you would cry or “fall apart?” Play it out in your mind, or talk it over with a trusted friend or relative – then take steps to plan for any and all possibilities. If you decide to be present, maybe you could build into the event an escape for yourself. Perhaps you could arrange to have a relative or friend go with you and be available to take over for you, if you found that you had to leave. Think about having someone else to drive you there and back so you don’t have to worry about getting home safely if you’re too upset to drive. The point is this: if the very thought of doing this produces overwhelming anxiety, then how can you break it down into manageable pieces that you will be able to tolerate? Sometimes we think we’re not “doing grief” properly if there are parts of it that we prefer to avoid – but YOU know yourself better than anyone, and YOU are in control of how much you are willing and able to manage in any given situation. Dose yourself – take your grief in smaller doses according to your ability to tolerate it. Grief is very hard work, but you don't have to do it all at once, and you don't have to let it manage you. You can learn to manage your grief in your own way, on your own time frame. And always keep in mind that there is no right or wrong way to do this – there is only YOUR way, and you must discover that for yourself. I hope this helps, my friend. Please know that we are thinking of you in the days and weeks ahead, and we are holding you close. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

Dear Angela, I’m so terribly sorry to read of the death of your beloved baby son Domenic this past September – I can only imagine how shocked and devastated you must be by this horrible and tragic loss. Of course your life is forever changed as a result – because there is nothing, nothing, nothing as painful as losing a child. After all, we are not supposed to outlive our children, are we? It goes against the natural order of things, it just isn't fair and it is so very, very hard to accept. Nevertheless, as I'm sure you already know, the bond you have with your dear little son will be with you forever, just as long as you keep his memory and the love you share with him alive in your heart. You will always be his mother, and he will always be your beloved son. Death may end a life, but it certainly does not end a relationship. Although I'm glad you found your way to this forum, I hope you'll take time to visit my Grief Healing Web site as well – it contains a wealth of information as well as links to many other wonderful sites, each of which I've reviewed personally. See especially the sites listed on my Links page, under the DEATH OF AN INFANT / CHILD / GRANDCHILD category . Most of these sites have been developed by grieving parents whose feelings and experiences may be similar to your own. You might begin by visiting these: Baby Steps Bereaved Parents of the USA The Compassionate Friends: National CSRA Compassionate Friends First Candle Hygeia The Lives that Ended Too Soon: Article by Melissa Flood Love Beyond Love Never Dies: A Mother's Journey from Loss to Love by Sandy Goodman MEND: Mommies Enduring Neonatal Death MISS: Mothers in Sympathy and Support SHARE: Support for Infant Loss Texas Moms of Tiny Angels Since it's been barely seven months since your baby died, I sincerely hope that you've found someone to talk to about this, Angela. Grieving a child is difficult enough without having to do it all alone. Sharing your feelings, reactions and experiences with another (a trusted friend or family member, someone on the Internet, a clergy person or in a support group comprised of other grieving parents) gives you a safe place to express yourself, helps you understand that what you're feeling is normal, and may give you the hope that if others have found a way to survive a loss like this, then you will find your own way, too. If you haven't already done so, I strongly suggest that you contact your local library, mortuary or hospice organization to find out what bereavement resources are available in your own community. I also encourage you to visit your public library to find and read some of the wonderful books about coping with the death of a child; they will help you learn what to expect in the weeks and months ahead, and will reassure you that you are not alone in this grief of yours. See my Articles and Books page for suggestions. Angela, there is nothing we can do or say to take away your pain at this sad and difficult time, but I can assure you that you need not bear it all alone. Our “Loss of a Child” grief forum is available to you at no cost, 24 hours a day, seven days a week. You are most welcome here – and please know that you are in our thoughts and prayers. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

My dear Katie, Welcome! I am so delighted that you have joined our Grief Healing Discussion Groups and have been posting in our Teens Talking to Teens forum! I see that you've also posted your very touching poem about your teacher in our Poetry of Grief and Loss forum, too, and I want to honor you for that. Thank you! As I read your story and the other writings on your own Web site the other day, it occurred to me that, by participating as an active member in our Teens forum, you really are in a position to help a lot of other young people -- not only because you're "walking the walk" but because clearly you're a person who is working to make meaning out of all the losses you've endured in your young life. I so admire and respect you for that, and I think that is a message worthy of conveying to others. I wonder if you would be willing to share the URL address of your own Web site, so that others can find their way to it through this forum? Also, I'd like your permission to add it to the Links page of my Grief Healing Web site, under the category labeled CHILD / ADOLESCENT GRIEF. Would that be all right with you? Most sincerely, Marty T

I'm so sorry to learn of the death of your father, Shel. You say that even though this death happened seven years ago, you feel as if you've never grieved for him. Now that you're sick and have some "down time," it could be that you are finally allowing yourself to face the reality of this loss, especially if you're close to experiencing any of those "hallmark events" in your life (when you're more acutely aware of his absence). That's the trouble with grief. As you have discovered, if we don't give it the attention it demands at the time of our loss, our grief doesn't get resolved -- it simply goes underground and waits for us to take care of it. And sooner or later, out it comes, just as if the loss had happened yesterday. One of the greatest myths about grief is that the day will come when we "get over it". Grief is a normal reaction to a significant loss, and it's something we all get through and learn to live with, but we never, ever get over it. And there is no time frame for grief. Remember the line in the song Sammy Davis, Jr. used to sing about Mr. Bo Jangles, whose little dog died and "after twenty years he still grieves"? The fact that you're feeling sorrow over the loss of your father now doesn't necessarily mean that you haven't made any progress in your grief journey. I don't know your age right now, but certainly as you grow and develop through the years, your grief changes. It will change you as well, influencing who you are in the present and affecting who you'll become in the future. This death of this important person -- your father -- must be worked through, adapted to, and integrated into your life repeatedly, as different situations and developmental milestones will require you to accommodate this loss of him again and again. You will re-visit your dad's death continually as you grapple with its meaning— emotionally, socially, economically and spiritually— and as you struggle to find a place for him in your present and future life. As I've said elsewhere in these forums, grief produces all kinds of conflicting feelings, most commonly those of anger and guilt -- which over time can become quite distorted, unless we share them with someone else (a trusted friend, a relative, a clergy person, fellow grievers in a support group, a grief counselor). Feelings exposed to the light of day can be acknowledged, examined, evaluated, worked through and resolved. Feelings that are stuffed just sit there and fester, making us feel miserable, crazy, sick and alone. You may have heard that "time will heal all wounds" but I'm sure you've learned by now, seven years after losing your dad, that the passage of time doesn't do anything to heal your grief – time is neutral. It's what you do with the time that matters. Grieving successfully requires the hard work of confronting, expressing and working through the pain of your loss. The good news is that it is never too late to do the work of grieving. That's because unresolved grief doesn't go anywhere – it just lies there waiting for us to deal with it – and when the pain of grief keeps coming up for us despite our efforts to ignore it, we are wise to pay it the attention it demands. So I strongly encourage you to find someone to talk to, Shel — someone who respects the relationship you had with your dad and who knows something about the normal grieving process. You might call your local hospice, mortuary or church to see if there is a grief support group offered in your community. Read all you can about grief to learn what is normal and what you can do to manage your own reactions (for examples, see my Grief Healing Web site's Articles ~ Columns ~ Books page. Take a look at the on-line email course I wrote, The First Year of Grief: Help for the Journey. Find and read some of the wonderful stories written by others whose fathers have died (see the sites listed on my site's Death of a Parent page; this will help you see that you are not alone, and will give you the hope that if others managed to get through it, then somehow you will find your own way, too. See also my Comfort for Grieving Hearts page to read what others have to say about this experience. Grieving is very hard work, but you don't have to be doing it all alone. I sincerely hope this information proves helpful to you, Shel-- and please know that we are thinking of you. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

Dear Kindred, I want to add my voice to the others, in an effort to assure you that feelings of anger are just as acceptable here as are any other feelings in grief, and to let you know that the topic of anger comes up quite frequently in our forums. See, for example, the topic entitled "My Behavior / What is NORMAL?" that appears in this Behaviors in Bereavement Forum, (third topic from the top, topic starter kiakaha44, topic started Jan 20, 2004). If you click on the topic title, then scroll down to the post entered by JeanSheridan on January 24, 2005, you will find a series of posts on that very topic. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T