MartyT

My dear Natalie, I’m so very sorry that, at the tender age of 22, you are mourning the death of your beloved mother, your “very best friend, comforter and inspiration-mom.” As if that were not enough, you’re also mourning the death of your relationship with your boyfriend of nearly four years. We can only imagine how alone, how lost, how bewildered, how abandoned you must feel. You say that although your mom died three months ago, it is only now that you have started grieving. You may feel very “crazy” and out of control at times, wondering what is wrong and why you would be “falling apart” now, three months later. I want to assure you that what you’re experiencing is normal – because it is when that initial shock and numbness wears off that the full force of our grief hits us, and usually it takes about three months for that to happen. Some believe that this is simply Nature’s way of cushioning us from that initial blow – the loss is so devastating, so enormous that it is simply too much for us to take in all at once, and so we experience a certain numbness, as if we’re walking around in a fog, operating on “automatic pilot.” But eventually the reality and the enormity of what we’ve lost begins to sink in, and then we feel as if we’ve been hit by a truck – it’s as if we’re experiencing the death all over again, but even more intensely than before. Unfortunately, until this happens your friends and classmates may have been operating under the assumption that you were doing fine, “handling things so well,” praising you for being so “strong” in the face of such devastating loss. It helps so much to know what normal grief looks like and feels like, Natalie, because then you know what to expect in the weeks and months ahead. Then you can plan for those reactions and learn some practical ways to manage them – which in turn leaves you feeling less “crazy” and much more in control. If you haven't already done so, I hope you’ll pay a visit to my Grief Healing Web site, at http://www.griefhealing.com . Once there, take the time to visit each of the pages listed at the bottom of the Home Page, most especially the Articles and Books page, at http://www.griefhealing/columnsbooks.htm , the Comfort for Grieving Hearts page, at http://www.griefhealing/Grievinghearts.htm and the Links: Bereavement and Loss Sites page, at http://www.griefhealing/HumanLossLinks.htm . Once on the Links page, scroll down to the category labeled DEATH OF A PARENT and follow some of those links. See also the links listed under DEATH OF A RELATIONSHIP. Scroll even further down the Links page until you come to ARTICLES BY MARTY and click on any one of those titles to learn more about the grieving process. Such information assures you that what you are experiencing is normal (even predictable) and gives you hope that, if others can survive such pain, you will find a way to survive it, too. I’ve also written an on-line e-mail course on grief; you can read more about it at http://www.selfhealingexpressions.com/firs..._of_grief.shtml Like everyone else out there who is reading this, I am so gratified to know that some way, somehow you have found your way to this warm, caring and supportive place, because I know that here you will find some of the comfort, compassion and friendship you so desperately need and deserve right now. None of us can take away your pain at this sad and difficult time in your young life, Natalie – but we can assure you that you need not endure it all by yourself. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

I’m so very sorry to learn of the death of your cherished fur babies, and I’d like to respond to all of you at once, if I may. Kathy, you say that because of the recent multiple losses you've endured, you’ve been feeling “sad and angry and sad.” You’ve withdrawn from rescue work because it hurts so much, you just can’t face it right now. Angie, you say you’re missing Montey more than you ever knew was possible; you feel guilty for feeling the way you do and wake up asking “What’s the point of going on without him?” Mona, when Primo died you felt as if a part of you died with him. You’ve loved and lost other pets before, but this is different and you don’t understand . . . As one who’s felt the agony of pet loss myself, my heart goes out to each of you. As one who’s worked with grieving animal lovers for the past 11 years, I also want to make sure that you get the information, comfort and support you need to help you get through these devastating losses. Of course there is nothing I can say to ease the pain each of you is feeling now, except to assure you that what you are feeling is absolutely normal. Whether death comes suddenly and unexpectedly, or after a long and difficult illness, it is only natural to feel shock and numbness. You just can't believe this has happened, and you find it hard to accept that your beloved pet is really gone. Because other people may not understand your attachment to animals, you may find yourself reluctant to share your feelings of grief with anyone else, which can leave you feeling isolated and alone. Unlike other losses we experience, losing a cherished pet may be regarded by others as somehow trivial or insignificant, and you may be faced with some pretty insensitive comments from certain folks. Yet only you can know how much your precious animal meant to you, and so only you can measure exactly how much you have lost. You may be troubled by the fact that you chose to euthanize your pet, which for many of us is a decision that on some level we believe belongs only to God, and you may be feeling very guilty about that decision. You may also be feeling very angry with God or the vet or even with your pet that you were placed in that position. In any case, I feel certain that your animals knew how very much you loved them, and my prayer for each of you is that the time will come when your fond memories of the times you laughed and played together will far outweigh the bad ones. And it's never too late to say goodbye, apologize to or seek forgiveness from our loved ones who have died. For example, you could write your pet a letter, or light a candle and speak to your pet’s spirit, telling him or her whatever you need to say. Keep in mind, too, that your pet will always be a part of you, just as long as you keep your animal’s memory alive in your heart. Death may end a life, but it does not end the relationship you have with these cherished beings. Animals are forever, my friends. While I understand the need we humans have to wish away all the pain and suffering that grief entails, it may help for you to recognize that the depth of our grief is determined by the strength of our attachment to the ones who have died, and the pain we feel at losing them is the price we pay for loving them so much. And even though we may try to avoid the pain of grief, it doesn't go anywhere -- it just lies there waiting for us to deal with it, and sooner or later we must give it the attention it demands. Some may say to you that "time is the best healer," and I know we're told that all the time -- but I want to suggest to you that the passage of time doesn't heal anything; time is neutral -- it's what we do with the time that matters -- and when we have some idea of what normal grief looks like, we have a better idea of what to expect, so we're in a much better position to manage all of our own reactions, as time goes by. In her post on January 5, Kathy recommended two excellent sources of information: an article by a veterinarian, and my friend Moira Anderson’s wonderful book, Coping with Sorrow on the Loss of Your Pet. I’d like to add to Kathy’s suggestions. I don't know if you've found and explored all the pages on my own Grief Healing Web site, but I hope you'll take some time to read some of the articles you'll find there on pet loss. See especially my Pet Loss Links page, at http://griefhealing.com/PetLinks.htm . Scroll down to the ARTICLES category, where you'll find links to some very helpful and informative writings. I've also written an on-line e-mail course on pet loss; you can get a sense of it at http://www.selfhealingexpressions.com/pet_loss.shtml . You might also call your local library, pet groomer, veterinarian or pet cemetery representative to see what pet loss resources may be available in your own community, such as a pet loss support group. I hope that this information proves helpful to you, my friends. No one can take your pain away at this sad and difficult time, but I can assure you that you do not have to endure it all alone. Please know that I am thinking of each of you and holding all of you in my heart. I wish you all the best, and as you feel ready to do so, I hope you will continue to visit this forum and let all of us know how you are doing. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

At any time, but most especially when we are grieving, we humans are fully capable of harboring all kinds of conflicting feelings all at the same time, including totally opposite ones (love and hate, joy and sorrow, happiness and anger, to name a few). That is the meaning of the word “ambivalence” – the simultaneous existence of two directly opposite feelings or, according to my Webster’s Dictionary, “the uncertainty or fluctuation caused by the simultaneous desire to say or do two opposite things.” Such conflicting feelings can make us feel very crazy and very guilty, and oftentimes we torture ourselves with ridiculous questions such as, “How can I feel this way when I should be feeling that way?” I want to suggest to you that you stop judging yourself for whatever you may be feeling at any given moment throughout this grief journey of yours, and simply accept whatever state you find yourself in at the time. Feelings are neither right or wrong, good or bad – they just are. It is what we do with our feelings that matters. Think of how your precious brand-new baby boy would feel if all he felt from you was sorrow? You have every right to think of your son with euphoria and joy, and he has every right to expect it from you! And if you could make it happen, we all know that you would have your mother alive and well beside you, sharing in your joy – but sadly, so very sadly, that is not an option. Similarly, you have every right to be filled with sorrow (and anger, resentment, disappointment and any number of other negative emotions) because your mother was ripped away from you at one of the most important moments of your life. I encourage you to accept these emotions as normal, predictable, human, and understandable, all resulting from the terrible situation in which you find yourself. There is not one among the rest of us who would not feel the same if we found ourselves in the same circumstances. I hope you will do some reading about the normal grief process so you will come to see your reactions as normal. Keep reading the messages posted here so you will see that you’re not alone. Know that we are thinking of you and holding you in our hearts. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

Dear Friends, Because guilt is one of the most common reactions in grief, I want to share with you (and with all our other visitors) the following, which appears on pp. 27-29 in Finding Your Way through Grief: A Guide for the First Year (the book I wrote for Hospice of the Valley): Guilt Even if there is no basis for it, we often feel guilty for what we did or didn’t do, said or failed to say when our loved one was alive. Guilt is a normal response to the perception that we’ve somehow failed in our duties and obligations or that we’ve done something wrong. It generates a whole mixture of feelings including doubt, shame, inadequacy, insecurity, failure, unworthiness, self judgment and blame, anxiety and fear of punishment. When your loved one’s terminal illness was finally diagnosed, you may feel guilty that you hadn’t noticed symptoms sooner, waited too long to seek treatment or didn’t do enough to comfort him or her. If death came suddenly or unexpectedly, you may feel guilty for not being present when it happened. If it came after a long, lingering illness, you may feel guilty for feeling relieved that your loved one’s suffering is over and you’re now free from the burden of worry and care. You may feel guilty that you are the one who survived, or uncomfortable that you received an insurance settlement or inheritance following the death of your loved one. If you’re a religious person, you may feel guilty that you feel so angry at God. Unfortunately, guilt is a natural and common component of grief. When someone you love dies, it’s only human to search for an explanation, to look at what you did or did not do, to dwell on the what if’s and if only’s. You agonize and tell yourself, “If only I’d done something differently, this never would’ve happened.” Sometimes, though, there simply isn’t anything you could’ve done differently. When your loved one’s illness or death occurred, chances are that whatever happened beforehand was not intentional on your part. Given the stress you were under then and how exhausted you may have been, you were doing the best you could. Given the information available to you at the time, you were doing what you normally would have done. Harsh as it may seem, consider that even if you had done things differently, your loved one still could have died in some other way at some other time! Sometimes we act as if we can control the random hazards of existence, even when we know that death is a fact of life. Guilt is driven by our own personal beliefs and expectations, and dealing with it requires that we examine what we think we did wrong, face it and evaluate it as objectively as possible. For example, what did you expect of yourself that you did not live up to? Were your expectations unrealistic? If they were, then you need to let go of them. Since you did all that you were capable of doing at the time, there simply is no basis for your guilt, and you need to let go of that as well. Nevertheless, if after careful examination of the facts you find that your expectations of yourself are legitimate and you still did not live up to them, it’s important to face and take responsibility for what you believe you could’ve done differently. Healthy guilt allows us to own up to and learn from our mistakes. It gives us a chance to make amends, to do things differently next time, to come to a better understanding of ourselves, to forgive ourselves and move on. Suggestions for Coping with Guilt ∙ Identify what it is that you feel guilty about. Resist the urge to keep such thoughts and feelings to yourself like so many deep, dark secrets. Bring them out into the open where they can be examined. Share them with a trusted friend or counselor, who can view your thoughts and feelings more objectively, and challenge what may be irrational or illogical. ∙ Listen to the messages you give yourself (the should have’s, could have’s and if only’s), and realize the past is something you can do absolutely nothing about. ∙ When guilty thoughts come to mind, disrupt them by telling yourself to stop thinking such thoughts. Say “STOP!” firmly, and out loud if you need to. ∙ Live the next day or next week of your life as if you were guilt-free, knowing you can return to your guilt feelings any time you wish. Pick a start time, and stop yourself whenever you make any guilt-related statements. ∙ Write down your guilt-related statements, set a date, and pledge that from that day forward you won’t say them to yourself anymore. Post them and read them every day. ∙ If you are troubled by feeling relieved that your loved one’s suffering has ended, know that a heavy burden has been lifted from your shoulders; you have been released from an emotionally exhausting and physically draining experience, and to feel relieved is certainly understandable. ∙ If you believe in God or a higher power, consider what He or She has to say about forgiveness. ∙ Participate in a support group — it’s a powerful way to obtain forgiveness and absolution from others. - Be your own best friend. What would you have said to your best friend if this had happened to that person? Can you say the same to yourself? ∙ Remember the good things you did in your relationship with your loved one and all the loving care you gave. Focus on the positive aspects: what you learned from each other, what you did together that brought you joy, laughter and excitement. Write those things down, hold onto them and read them whenever you need to. ∙ Ask what you expected of yourself that you didn’t live up to. How is it that you didn’t? What were the circumstances at the time? What have you learned from this that you’ll do differently next time? ∙ What can you do to make amends? Find a way to genuinely apologize to your loved one’s spirit and ask for forgiveness. ∙ Have a visit with your loved one. Say aloud or in your mind whatever you didn’t get to say while your loved one was still living. Be as honest as you can be. ∙ Have your loved one write a letter to you. What would this person say to you about the guilt and sadness you’ve been carrying around? ∙ Ask what it would take for you to forgive yourself. Can you begin doing it? Say out loud to yourself, “I forgive you.” Say it several times a day. ∙ Remember that no one else can absolve your feelings of guilt— only you can do so, through the process of intentionally forgiving yourself. ∙ When you’ve consciously learned all you can learn from this situation, and when you’ve made any amends you consider necessary, then it’s time to let go of your guilt, to forgive yourself, and to move on. ∙ Channel the energy of your guilt into a worthwhile project. Do good deeds in your loved one’s honor. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

My heart aches as I read your tragic story. The visions and dreams you’re having suggest to me that on some level you are still struggling with doubts about what really happened the day your Cody was killed. While a part of you wants desperately to believe what your oldest son has told you, another part of you has serious doubts that he is being truthful with you. Just as your older son has lost his younger brother, you’ve already lost one son and, at the risk of losing your older boy, I would expect that it becomes difficult if not impossible for you to discuss your doubts objectively with your 16-year-old. That in itself is reason enough to seek the help of a professional grief counselor. I believe that, in the form of dreams and visions, your grief is telling you that you need a safe place to bring all the unresolved anger, guilt, suspicion and whatever else you must be feeling in the face of this horrible tragedy. How do you go about finding this professional help? I suggest that you 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 to clients for up to one year following a death, and offer bereavement support groups to the general public at no cost. I also suggest that you check the national office of the The Compassionate Friends to see if there is a support group near you. This is far too heavy a burden for you to be carrying all alone, my friend, and I strongly encourage you to get going to find the help you need and deserve. Please know that all of us are holding you in our hearts. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

Nearly every animal lover I’ve encountered in my pet loss support groups refers to that one pet who was very special, the same way you feel about your Tasha. Some refer to them as “heart” pets. I felt the same way about my Muffin, my Cockapoo who was hit by a car in 1986. I still think of him as the dearest dog I’ve ever known and I still miss him terribly – and he was my “heart dog.” My friend, it’s so important to recognize that our feelings aren’t always rational or logical – they just are – and what matters in the end is how we behave in spite of what we may be feeling at the time. You say that Tasha was your “cornerstone,” which tells me that you loved her dearly and she was indeed your “heart dog,” and I hope you will forgive yourself for finding it hard right now to feel that same level of love for your other dogs. When my Muffin's accident happened, we still had another Cockapoo at home: Raisin, his littermate. We got them together as puppies, when they were 5 weeks old, and for the next ten years they were inseparable. But Raisin was my son’s favorite, not mine – and for months after Muffin died I struggled with my secret feelings of anger and resentment: If God was going to do this awful thing to me, how come the wrong dog had to be killed? At the time I felt so guilty and embarrassed and ashamed for feeling that way! But eventually I came to accept my feelings simply for what they were: neither right or wrong, good or bad – just feelings. And as long as I did not act on those feelings (by taking them out on Raisin) I managed gradually to work through them, stop blaming Raisin for not being the one who died and let go of the pain of losing my precious Muffin. You’re also correct in thinking that a part of you is afraid to love your remaining dogs as much as you loved Tasha, because you know first-hand how painful it is to lose a dog to whom you’ve given your whole heart. The pain you’re experiencing right now is the price you must pay for having loved Tasha so much. The same is true for all of us who give our hearts so completely to our pets. All I can tell you is to acknowledge and accept what you’re feeling without judging yourself for feeling as you do. Feelings that are acknowledged, felt and expressed will dissipate and eventually go away – it is the feelings we try to deny and bury and ignore that eventually get us into trouble. Accept that what you are feeling is a normal response to losing someone you loved dearly, and know that you are not alone in feeling that way. I promise you that the day will come when you will be able to think of Tasha without the wrenching pain and tears. Once again you will feel yourself open to love and intimacy in your relationships with your other dogs, and you’ll be willing to risk loving and losing and letting go again. That’s the way it goes when we animal lovers decide to enrich our lives with pets, whose life-spans are so much shorter than our own. We open our hearts and our homes to them, we love them, sooner or later we lose them, then we learn what we can from the experience, and over time we let go of the pain of losing them – and then for most of us, the day finally comes when we feel strong enough to risk doing it all again. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

Below is an e-mail message I received this morning from Melissa, which I'd like to share with all our Discussion Group participants: "Hi I wandered in to your group... I have lost my second daughter to SIDS at the age of 5 mo. 20 days. Each year I add a special section to my site, "hang a stocking for a loved one" and anyone can add a stocking for any of their missed loved ones. (any cause of death, any age, any amount of stockings) I'd like to invite you, and everyone you know who may like to add a stocking, to visit my site, and add a free stocking to our site. ~With Love, Strength and Hope~ Melissa" http://www.geocities.com/chassidysmommy/Ch.../Christmas.html http://www.geocities.com/chassidysmommy http://groups.yahoo.com/group/angelsinthemedia

My dear Corinna, You have just described one of the most common reasons why animal lovers feel so guilty for feeling so deeply the pain of pet loss – and why it is often so difficult to find the empathy, understanding and support we so desperately need from others. I want to assure you that you are neither unfeeling nor abnormal in how you are reacting to both of these deaths. I'd like to tell you – and others who may be reading this – why. Since your grandfather was an older man suffering from terminal cancer, his death did not come unexpectedly, and probably it was viewed by your family as a relief from his suffering. As you say, now you can think of him as being in a better place, free of pain, smiling and laughing, reunited with friends and family. That is not to say that those of you who are left behind aren’t sad that he has died and won’t still miss him terribly – but chances are that you knew and accepted that he was dying, and may consider his death to be within the natural order of such things. Your dog’s death, on the other hand, was very sudden, unexpected, the result of a brutal hit-and-run accident, and came at a fairly early age in the life span of a dog. It’s also important to recognize that the relationship you had with your dog (whom you yourself describe as your best friend) is different from the one you had with your grandfather – not better than, but different from. People I encounter in pet grief support groups are often shocked to discover how bad they feel when their pets die. I cannot tell you how many times I’ve heard statements such as, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I didn’t feel this bad when my grandmother (acquaintance, friend, relative) died.” As L.G. so beautifully stated in her response to your posting in the Pet Loss Forum, the love we receive from our beloved pets is different from the love we share with our fellow human beings. With their constant presence, availability and devotion, pets may be our best source of unconditional love, becoming for many of us the ideal child, parent, mate or friend. They listen without judgment or reproach, and never give advice. They accept us exactly as we are, regardless of how we look or feel or behave. They forgive us readily and never hold grudges against us. No matter how much change we must endure in our unpredictable lives, our pets are always there for us. If we allow them to do so, our pets are more than willing to weave themselves into the very fabric of our daily lives. We live and relax in each other’s company. They are there when we awaken in the morning, rely on us to toilet, feed, water, exercise, groom and play with them, greet us joyfully when we come home to them and may even sleep with us in our beds at night. We touch them, stroke them, pet them, hug them, kiss them, tell them our troubles and share our deepest secrets with them. No matter how close you were to your grandfather, I would venture to guess that none of these statements would describe the relationship you had with your grandfather. Unless he lived with you, you probably didn’t see your grandfather every single day either, and were accustomed to loving him in his absence, whereas your dog was with you constantly, and you grew accustomed to loving him in his presence. Think of what a drastic change this is when your dog is no longer such an intimate part of your daily life. Is it any wonder that you miss him so much? Everywhere you go in your home, you're probably bumping into reminders that Tazz is no longer there. Most pet owners today – and certainly the animal lovers I meet in my pet loss support groups – regard their pets as members of the family. And how we react to the death of any family member— human or animal— depends to a large extent on the part they’ve played in our daily lives, the significance of our relationships with them, and the strength of our attachments to them. I don’t know how your beloved Tazz came into your life, but you may be interested to learn that you’re likely to be even more highly attached to your dog if you’ve nursed him through a chronic illness or rescued him from certain death; if you associate him with important times in your life or link him with significant others who are no longer with you; and if you’ve relied on him to support you or get you through a crisis. How attached we become to our animals is as individual as we are, but the bonds that we have are valid, worthy of understanding, and serve to explain the intense pain we feel when those bonds are broken. And so, Corinna, I want to gently suggest that you stop beating yourself up for feeling so acutely the pain of losing your beloved dog, and stop comparing the pain of that loss to how you’re feeling about the death of your grandfather. These are two very different losses, and both are equally worthy of your grief. You are the only one who knows how very much your dog meant to you, and you are the only one who can measure how very much you have lost. Don’t let anyone tell you what you should or should not be feeling about any of this. I sincerely hope that other animal lovers who visit these forums will continue to share their thoughts and reactions with you. Please know you that you are not alone, and we hope you will feel welcome here. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

Dear Sammie, We're so sorry for your loss -- please know that we are thinking of you and holding you in our hearts. I understand that finding your way to this discussion group and figuring out how to post a message here can be a daunting task -- some of us are not as comfortable on our computers as others, and certainly when we're in the throes of grief, doing something like this can seem downright impossible -- nevertheless I hope you'll give yourself a pat on the back for having the courage, the concentration and the patience it surely must have taken for you to stick with it and figure it out. Along with all our other visitors, I want to welcome you to this special place of caring, comfort and support. You can come here any time, at any hour of the day or night, without leaving the comfort and safety of your home. You need not judge yourself so harshly for not being ready to participate in a grief group; at this point in your own grief journey, your need to focus on your own pain is normal and understandable. Instead you may want to consider meeting individually with one of the bereavement counselors at the hospice that served your husband. Even if you're grieving in a normal, healthy way, it's wise to use all the resources available to help you recover your balance and put your life back together again. Sometimes support from family and friends can feel like either too much or not nearly enough, and that's when a few sessions with a bereavement counselor can give you the encouragement, understanding and comfort you need. In any event, please know that you are most welcome here, and we hope you'll discover that you need not bear your sorrow all alone. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

I join our other visitors in sharing your sorrow at the tragic death of your beloved Baxter – from the beautiful picture you’ve posted, we all can see what a fine fellow he must have been, and we can only imagine how devastated you must feel. When death comes suddenly and unexpectedly like this, it can be especially hard to bear – and when you lose a dog you’ve rescued, it can hit you even harder because of the special bond that develops between the two of you. When you rescue animals from a shelter, you see yourself as a rescuer and a protector -- yet you were unable to protect Baxter from this accidental tragedy. Discovering that he escaped from your yard through a broken fence, finding his body in the road after the accident, and knowing whoever hit him didn’t even bother to stop – all of this compounds your grief and can leave you feeling very guilty and very angry. Know that guilt and anger are two of the most common reactions in grief. You say that "if I had checked on him earlier he might not have gotten out of the yard and he'd still be here." At a time like this it's important to remember that you did not intentionally set out to bring any harm to your beloved dog. The fact is that, like all the rest of us, you are human, terrible accidents do happen, and there isn't any way you could have foreseen what was going to happen to Baxter on that particular day. The anger you feel at the driver who didn’t stop is understandable. You may also feel some anger at your husband or at yourself for not having fixed that broken fence post. Anger is a powerful emotion that can be frightening, but feeling angry doesn't necessarily imply that you'll lose control or take your anger out unfairly on others. But before you can get through it, let go of the intense emotions attached to it and move on, your anger must be admitted, felt and expressed, if only to yourself. Keep in mind that feelings are neither right or wrong, good or bad. They just are. What really matters is what you do with what you're feeling. When you simply acknowledge feelings of anger to yourself or to a trusted other without actually doing anything about them, no harm is done, to you or to anyone else. On the other hand, if you suppress it and hold on to it, eventually you may explode, turn it inward and get depressed, or aim it at innocent others. You can find healthy ways to discharge the energy of your anger through physical exercise, writing and talking. Feelings aren't always rational or accurate, either. Feeling guilty about the circumstances surrounding Baxter’s death doesn't mean that you are, in fact, an uncaring, irresponsible pet owner. One of the most wonderful things about our animal companions (unlike humans!) is that they love us unconditionally, they are forgiving of all our human faults, and they never, ever hold a grudge against us. If anyone knew how much he was loved throughout his four years with you and your husband, surely it was your precious Baxter. In the end, there is nothing I can say to erase the load of guilt that you are carrying around with you. The only one who can forgive you is yourself, my friend. In situations such as this, it is only human nature to feel guilt for what you may have done or failed to do. If after examining all the facts you and your husband decide that you should have done things differently in this case, then the only thing you can do at this point is to learn from your mistake and promise yourselves that if you are ever presented with the exact same set of circumstances again, you will do things differently next time – inspecting your fence regularly and keeping it in good repair, for example. A sudden, unexpected death like this can teach some valuable lessons about how fragile and temporary life is, and that if we have something to say to someone we had better say it now, because we may never get the chance again to say it. Can you let this be one of Baxter’s legacies to you -- one of the precious life lessons you can take from this tragic loss? Are there any other lessons here that you may need to learn? Take some time to think about all of this. It is one of the most important tasks in mourning: to find meaning in this loss. In any event, there is nothing you can do now to go back and change what has already been done. Instead, to cope with the guilt you’re feeling, you might try to find some way to communicate with Baxter’s spirit and ask for his forgiveness. That may be by meditating, by writing him a letter and saying whatever you need to say to him, by finding a quiet place and lighting a candle and speaking to him in your mind -- whatever way you choose is up to you. Sometimes sharing our story enables us to unburden ourselves and to obtain the absolution we may need from others, and posting in this Pet Loss Forum gives you the opportunity to do just that. None of us is perfect; we are all human, we've all made mistakes and we've all done things about which we feel guilty. You need to find some way to forgive yourself, to apologize and make amends to the one you believe you’ve harmed, to learn from your mistake and to move on. That's how you will heal from this loss. It’s also very healing to explore with your husband all the ways you can memorialize Baxter (have a memorial service, plant a tree, write a poem or an essay about your dog, put an album or scrapbook together, make a marker for his grave, etc.) Finally, you say you wonder what your other three dogs know, think and feel about all this. Common sense tells us that, just as we form attachments to our companion animals, they form attachments to each other as well. You say that Sadie and Baxter were very close buddies, which tells me they were probably inseparable -- sleeping together, playing together and following one another around most of the day. When death separated them, it's understandable that the animal left behind can become distressed. Although there are no scientific research reports in the literature about this, I can assure you that I've read, heard about and experienced myself many examples of animals reacting strongly to the death of their companions (human and animal) with symptoms of separation anxiety. It's also possible that one or more of your remaining dogs are sensing the distress of other humans in the household and are reacting to any changes in routine that accompanied this loss. When you think about it, how animals behave (with anxiety, restlessness, depression, crying and searching) is very similar to how we humans behave when we're grieving. Here are some suggestions that might help you to help Sadie and your remaining dogs, if these behaviors are evident: - Keep their daily routine as unchanged as you can, so it remains as predictable, familiar and consistent as possible. - Provide comfort by leaving the radio or television on when leaving the house. - Stick to their normal feeding routine. Even though you may be tempted to offer special treats at such a sad time, you don't want to reward their refusal to eat regular meals. - If Sadie seems to want it, give her extra attention, petting and affection, but try to do so when she is behaving in desirable ways (with toys, games and exercise). Again, you don't want to reinforce negative behavior, and you don't want to force yourself upon her. (Some animals who've always been friendly may behave in a hostile or aggressive way — another symptom of grief.) - It may help to let her see and smell Baxter's "things" (toys, food dish, collar or bedding, etc.). Some people recommend actually sitting down and "explaining" to the surviving animals what happened to their companion. Your dogs won't understand every word, but your gentle touch and the soothing tone of your voice will provide some comfort. I hope this information helps, my friend. Please know we are thinking of you and sharing in your sorrow. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

Hi Spencer. We're all so very sorry to learn that your mother was killed in an auto accident last year. Please know that we are thinking of you and holding you in our hearts. I don't know who's been telling you "to be more social and to get over" your mom's death, but I can tell you that what they are saying is wrong, wrong, wrong. You know, when we lose an important part of ourselves -- our eyesight or hearing, for example, or an arm or a leg -- no one would ever say to us, "You need to be more social and get over it." People don't "get over" blindness, or being deaf, or being an amputee. Insead, over time, they rehabilitate and learn to live with their disabilities. As you've already discovered, you will never, ever "get over" the fact that your mother has died. The hurt and sorrow and longing you feel will lessen little by little over a very long period of time, but it never goes away completely -- and the amount of pain you feel is in direct proportion to your attachment to your mom. Getting over the death of someone you loved so much is impossible. We never "get over" such losses; instead, over time, we just find ways to endure them: to get through our grief and make our way in a world without the physical presence of our loved one in it. I often point out to people that it's the pain of losing our loved ones that we will one day manage to "let go" of -- but you need never "let go" of your relationship with your mom. So often we torture ourselves thinking we need to "let go" of our loved ones who have died and say goodbye to them forever more -- but when you loved your mother that much, why in the world would you want to let go of her? I also like to remind people that death ends a life, but it does not end a relationship. The bond you have with your mother will stay with you just as long as you keep her memory alive in your mind and in your heart. She will always be your mother and you will always be her son. Take comfort in knowing that, in a very real sense, your mother is very much here with you now, wherever you are, because her spirit and her memory live on in you, and because you are so very much a part of her. When you really think about it, in many ways you are more inseparable now than you were before, because you are not limited by space and time and distance. It may help, too, to think of what your mother would want for you as you live the rest of your life, Spencer. Surely she would want you to miss her very much, as you do -- but do you really believe she would want to see you suffering and miserable forever more? Perhaps instead she would want you to go on to live a good, healthy life as a way of honoring her memory. I don't know what sort of bereavement support you've had since your mother died, but I hope you'll think about what you need from others right now and make an effort to let them know about it. People (including your dad and other relatives, as well as your teachers at school) won't know what you need from them unless you tell them. It may be that your dad is very concerned about you, but he may not have a clue as to what's going on with you -- or he could be preoccupied with his own grief at the loss of your mom. (It may be helpful for you to go back and read my message to Ally in the "Loss of a Sibling" forum, under the topic title, "I'm Worried about My Daughter," dated 10/19/03. There are some good Web site links included there, too, which you might like to visit yourself.) You also need to know that the grief you're experiencing at your present age will change through the years, Spencer. It will change you too, influencing who you are right now and affecting who you'll become in the future. This death of this very special person must be worked through, adapted to, and integrated into your life, as different situations will require you to accommodate this loss again and again. When you have your first date with a girl, go to your first prom, graduate from high school, go off to college -- over and over you'll be bumping into the harsh reality that your mom is not there (physically) to experience those very special times with you. You will re-visit this death continually as you grapple with its meaning— emotionally, socially, economically and spiritually— and as you struggle to find a place for your mom in your present and future life. I don't know how you found your way to this Discussion Group, Spencer, but I'm so pleased that you did. And I hope that our other visitors will share their experiences and wisdom with you, too. Everyone who comes here is an expert in grief, because we're all walking the same path, even as we each must find our own way through the darkness -- but at least we don't have to go it all alone. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

I'm so very sorry to learn of the difficulties you're facing, Matt. You sound like such a caring, sensitive man. As Steve has pointed out so eloquently, whenever there is a loss of something important in our lives, we suffer grief, and grieving is a part of the divorce / breaking-up process. Usually for a death there is a set ritual with a funeral or memorial service, and some understanding in our culture that mourning is important. But for the death of a love relationship, there is no prescribed ritual of mourning, and the grief is seldom acknowledged or accepted. Read what Robert Fulghum has to say about this type of loss: 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 Rituals of Our Daily Lives, 1995, p. 232 When a relationship dies, oftentimes there is an injury to one's own ego, a sense of failure and a diminished sense of self-worth. There are nagging questions about what went wrong and many fears about the future, especially when children are involved. In order to get yourself into a position to enjoy life again, Matt, it's important to learn whatever lessons this experience has to teach you, to get to know yourself better and to develop new parts of yourself that you did not know were there before. I'd like to recommend to you four books that I think you'll find quite helpful and "on point". They're all still in print and should be available from your local library, neighborhood bookstore or online at Amazon.com. They are: Coming Apart:Why Relationships End & How to Live through the Ending of Yours , by Daphne Rose Kingma, Conari Press, 2000, ISBN 1-57324-177-6, The Way of Transition: Embracing Life's Most Difficult Moments, by William Bridges, Perseus Publishing, 2001, ISBN 0-7382-0410-2, Life is Goodbye / Life is Hello, by Alla Renee Bozarth, Hazelden, 1986, ISBN 1-56838-057-7, and Rebuilding When Your Relationship Ends (Third Edition), by Bruce Fisher, Impact Publishers, 1999, ISBN 188623017X. There are also some very helpful Web sites you may wish to visit, all of which are listed on the Death of a Relationship page on my Grief Healing Web site. I hope this information proves helpful to you, Matt, and I hope our other visitors who've experienced similar losses will share their insights with you as well. Meanwhile we wish you all the best as you continue to work your way through this difficult time. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

Dear Ally, I understand your concern for your daughter at this sad and difficult time, and I’d like to offer some thoughts for you to consider. First, it’s important to recognize that you and your daughter are grieving separate losses – you have lost your son, and she has lost her brother – and each of you will grieve your own personal loss in your own unique way. And just because your daughter is not talking with you about her brother’s death does not mean that she is not grieving. (For a more thorough discussion of this, see my article, Understanding Different Mourning Patterns in Your Family. As I’m sure you know, by nature adolescents can be moody and non-communicative. At this stage in your daughter’s development (as a teenager learning to separate from authority figures and find her own identity), it would be very normal for her to feel somewhat alienated from adults. That's why most teens normally turn to their peers rather than their parents when they feel a need for support. At the same time, they don't like to stand out and to feel different from their friends – they want to belong. The trouble is that, unless one or more of your daughter’s friends has experienced the death of a loved one too, it's unlikely that they can fully understand what she is feeling and experiencing as she mourns the death of her brother. That's why grieving teens do best when they're helped to find peers who've also experienced a death. They're often very relieved to discover they're not the only ones who've had someone close to them die. You say you’ve tried getting your daughter into counseling but “she isn’t interested.” Still, it would be helpful if she were encouraged to talk to someone she already knows and trusts, and with whom she feels comfortable talking (a teacher, school counselor, neighbor, friend, relative, clergy person, etc.) Given what has happened in your family, you can alert those adults who are significant in your daughter’s life to help you to keep a watchful eye on your child, and you can ask them to offer additional support and understanding to your daughter during this difficult time. On your daughter’s behalf, you might call your local hospice and ask if there are any support groups or programs in your community aimed at teens who've lost a sibling. On the Internet, you can visit some of the sites that offer information, comfort and support to teens who are grieving, and encourage your daughter to visit them, too. For starters, see the sites listed under the CHILD/ADOLESCENT GRIEF category on my Site Map page, especially “Hand in Hand Newsletter for Bereaved Youngsters,” at http://www.handinhandnews.com ; “TAG: Teen Age Grief,” at http://parentingteens.about.com/cs/grief/ ; and “Oprah: Why Death Is Worth Talking About,” at http://www.oprah.com/tows/pastshows/tows_2...l?promocode=002 You say your daughter “won’t talk – it’s like [her brother] never existed.” It could be that, in an effort to protect you from your own sorrow about the loss of your son, your daughter is reluctant to discuss with you her feelings of grief at the death of her brother. At the same time, you may think that discussing this death with your daughter will only upset her. That happens in families -- no one wants to talk about it and everybody winds up feeling alone and isolated in their grief. But you can model reminiscing and talking openly about your son. Feeling, showing and verbalizing your own pain gives your daughter an example to follow, while holding back implies that feelings are to be suppressed. As your counselor suggested, your daughter may be taking her cues from you. By doing it yourself, you can let your daughter know that talking is a good thing. Talking about your son is what gets both your feelings out in the open so you can acknowledge and deal with them, and it's also what keeps your son’s memory alive in your minds and in your hearts. It could be that your daughter is just aching to talk to you about her brother, and all she needs is to know that you are needing to talk with her about him, too. To get the conversation going with your daughter, you might want to share with her a piece that appears on the Comfort for Grieving Hearts page of my Web site: The Elephant in the Room There’s an elephant in the room. It is large and squatting, so it is hard to get around it. Yet, we squeeze by with, “How are you?” and “I’m fine”. . . And a thousand other forms of trivial chatter. We talk about the weather. We talk about school or work. We talk about everything else — except the elephant in the room. We all know it is there. We are thinking about the elephant as we talk. It is constantly on our minds, For you see, it is a very big elephant. But we do not talk about the elephant in the room. Oh, please, say her name. Oh, please, say ‘Barbara’ again. Oh, please, let’s talk about the elephant in the room. For if we talk about her death, Perhaps we can talk about her life. Can I say ‘Barbara’ and not have you look away? For if I cannot, then you are leaving me Alone . . . in a room . . . With an elephant. — Terry Kettering, in Bereavement Magazine, Reprinted in Ann Landers’ Column, Arizona Republic, February 12, 2000 Perhaps the best thing you can do for your daughter right now is to take good care of yourself, Ally (continuing to work with your counselor, making sure you get enough rest, nutrition and exercise, etc.) As your counselor said, more than anything else your daughter needs you to “just be here for her when she needs me.” And remember that you know your daughter better than anyone else does. Follow your heart, trust your instincts and use your own good judgment. And know that we are thinking of you. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

We're so sorry to learn of the death of your beloved Belial. Making the euthanasia decision for our cherished companion animals is one of the most difficult things we ever have to do, and I know this must have been terribly hard for you. Usually when we decide with our vet to choose euthanasia for our animals, it is with the loving and unselfish intention of relieving our animal's suffering by creating a dignified and painless death. Nevertheless, we're still left with overwhelming feelings of guilt and remorse. Guilt is a natural component of grief — it's only human to look back at what you did or did not do, to agonize over what could have been done differently. Sometimes, though, there simply isn't anything you could've or should've done differently. I suspect that, under the circumstances you describe, your precious Belial knew how much you loved him, and I have a feeling that, even though you were not holding him in your arms at the moment of his death, he knew you were there in the room with him, and he would have understood that this was your final act of love for him. It may be quite helpful for you to make an appointment to talk this over with your vet, who is the only one who can reassure you that you did, indeed, "do the right thing", and that your dog did not suffer in any way during this procedure. It may also help you to know that the relationship, the bond you have with Belial will last as long as you decide to keep his memory alive in your heart. What you will learn to do over time is to let go of the pain of losing him, but never must you feel as if you have to let go of the bond you have with him and the love you feel for him. While you're waiting for his cremains to be returned to you, it may be helpful for you to find a way to memorialize him, whether that is by planting a shrub or tree, putting together an album or photo collage, donating a book on pet loss to your local library or making a donation in Belial's honor to an animal shelter -- whatever you choose to do is up to you. If you're still tormented by not having held him at the end, write a letter of apology or explanation to his spirit and say all you need to say to him -- get all your thoughts and feelings out of your head and onto a piece of paper -- then go to a special place of remembrance you've created and burn the letter as a way of symbolically releasing all that guilt you've been carrying around with you. You say you're having trouble dealing with all of this, but I can assure you that the guilt, pain and sorrow that you are experiencing in the aftermath of your dog's euthanasia is normal. Grief is a natural response to losing someone we love. It is also very hard work, and it shouldn't be done alone. I encourage you to find someone you trust and with whom you feel comfortable talking about your experience — preferably someone who understands the attachment you had to Belial and who knows something about normal grief. This can be a relative, friend, neighbor, co-worker, clergy person, a volunteer on a Pet Loss Helpline or a pet loss counselor (see the Helplines, Message Boards, Chats page on my Grief Healing Web site). Check with your veterinarian, pet grooming specialist, pet cemetery representatinve, animal shelters, humane organizations or even your local librarian for information on what pet loss services may be available in your own community. I also suggest you do some reading about the normal grieving process, both to prepare you for what to expect in the days and weeks ahead, and to reassure yourself that what you're going through is normal. Have you had an opportunity to thoroughly explore my own Grief Healing web site? If not, I hope that you will do so. Simply go to http://www.griefhealing.com. Plan on spending some time on each of the pages there. It will offer you some measure of comfort, information and support, as well as links to many other useful resources. Once there, click on to my Articles ~ Columns ~ Books page. Scroll down until you come to "Articles by Marty Related to Pet Loss" and select the piece labeled "Loss And The Burden Of Guilt ". I've also written an on-line e-mail course on pet loss, which offers you yet another way to make sense of what you're feeling. If you're interested, you can get a sense of it here: Pet Loss: A Different Grief. You might also find solace in reading these touching pieces, which you'll find among writings by other authors on my Comfort for Grieving Animal Lovers page: Euthanasia: The Merciful Release and The Fourth Day. I hope this information proves useful to you, Betty-Lou. Please know that we are thinking of you and Belial, and holding you in our hearts. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

Dear Isabella, I want to respond to the fact that you have experienced three very significant losses in the span of just one month: the death of your grandmother, the death of your mother and the death of the relationship you've had with your "man of 20 years." We can only imagine how overwhelmed and traumatized you must feel. It's not surprising to me that, because you've been hit with one significant loss after another, probably with little opportunity to process each of them separately and individually, you now find yourself in what I would certainly call "grief overload." Grief is like that -- if we can't give it the attention it demands at the time of our loss, it doesn't "go" anywhere, and it 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 any or all of these losses had happened yesterday. As soon as we are hit with just one more loss, or even the anniversary of a past loss, it is not at all uncommon for that event to trigger all the grief reactions we've been suppressing for a very long time -- like the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back. (Notice, for example, how you are recalling October 7 as the anniversary of your father's suicide.) In the wake of all of this, you say that you're "having extreme anxiety" and are worried that you "feel crazy or that I will go insane." Please know that withstanding all these accumulated losses is not "going out of your mind" or "having a nervous breakdown" -- it is a normal reaction to a very abnormal situation! Also, since your losses have come so recently and so close together, I would expect that you are still in a state of shock and disbelief, not even ready to begin the work of grieving. That's not necessarily a bad thing -- denying the reality of what is happening can be nature's way of cushioning all these blows because they are way too much for you to take in all at once, and it's the only way you can continue to function on a daily basis right now. It may even feel as if you must take a defensive posture, keeping yourself in a state of heightened alert to guard against the next onslaught of very bad news that surely must be waiting just around the corner. Because grief is an intensely personal experience, your personal grieving style will be unique to you and your individual personality. Nevertheless, there are certain reactions that are common to us all, such as the very ones you describe: re-living those awful last moments just before your mother died, feeling shock and sadness, crying, difficulty concentrating, having trouble sleeping even though you're exhausted, feeling sick to your stomach, thinking you've heard your mother's labored breathing -- these are all normal experiences, especially at this very early point in your grief journey! You say you don't know how to do this, and I suppose that's true of all of us who are grieving. Nobody knows how to do this -- because there simply is no right or wrong way to do it -- there is only your way, and you must discover that way for yourself -- as someone already has said: one day, one hour, one moment at a time. You say "I don't know where to put this, and perhaps here I've found a place." Writing is one of the oldest methods of self-exploration, self-exprssion and self-discovery, and this forum can be a trusted friend who's available to listen to you at no cost, 24 hours a day, regardless of what mood you're in. I also hope you have someone to talk to about all of this, so that when you are ready to take the time to do so, your feelings about all of these losses can be explored, expressed, worked through and released -- a trusted relative, friend, neighbor, clergy person or counselor. There are all kinds of resources "out there" in your own community - you just have to make the effort to pick up your telephone and ask for the help that you need. I encourage you to contact your local hospice organization, mortuary, church or synagogue, or even your local library, and ask what bereavement support services are available in your own city or town -- and if you don't have the energy to do this research yourself, I hope you will ask a friend or a relative to do it for you. As overwhelmed 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. Meanwhile, this forum is here for you, and even though we cannot take away your pain, we hope you'll take comfort in knowing that you don't have to bear it all alone. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

I'd like to recommend an informative and helpful book by Judy Tatelbaum, MSW entitled The Courage to Grieve: Creative Living, Recovery & Growth through Grief (Perennial, 1984, ISZN 0060911859). Judy's brother David was killed at the age of 20 in an auto accident, when Judy herself was only 17. Her book is a poignant description of the profound effect this loss had upon her, and how it took her nearly fourteen years to face her grief fully and once again find meaning in her life. Today Judy is a respected psychotherapist, lecturer and educator who has dedicated her life to freeing people from the emotional suffering that accompanies grief. There also are several Internet sites aimed specifically at those of us who have lost a sibling. You'll find many of them listed on the Site Map page of my Grief Healing Web site, under the DEATH OF A SIBLING category. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

To all of our participants, Something I received in this morning's mail from a dear friend that I'd like to share with all of you: Hold on to what is good, even if it is a handful of earth. Hold on to what you believe, even if it is a tree which stands by itself. Hold on to what you must do, even if it is a long way to go from here. Hold on to life, even when it is easier letting go. Hold on to my hand, even when I have gone away from you. -- Pueblo Blessing Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

Dear Michelle, We’re so sorry to learn of the sudden death of your mother. We welcome you to this site and send you our heartfelt condolences. It is indeed unfortunate that you were prevented from seeing your mother’s body even though that is what you wanted to do. For many of us, that is an important part of accepting the reality of a death, and I’m sorry you were deprived of that experience. Keep in mind, however, that it is only one part, and over the next several days, weeks and months, you will encounter many other reminders that your mother is no longer physically present, as gradually you come to accept the reality of your loss. You say that, although you’re currently in counseling, you don’t know much about the “grieving process.” You are not alone in that regard – our culture is not known for its understanding of death, dying and grief – and most of us don’t like to think about it or talk about it very much until it happens to us. But sooner or later, we each must take our turn with grief, because loss is an inevitable part of living in this world. Fortunately much has been written about the subject of grief, and a wealth of information is at your fingertips, whether you find it on the Internet or at your local library or corner bookstore. If you haven’t already been there, you might begin by visiting my own Grief Healing Web site, at http://www.griefhealing.com . Take time to explore all the pages there, especially the “Articles and Books” page and the “Links/Human Loss Links” page. You will find articles I’ve written on various aspects of grief, as well as some wonderful pieces by other noted authors, and links to many valuable resources. See especially the links listed under the DEATH OF A PARENT category. Such readings will reassure you that what you are experiencing is normal, will prepare you for what to expect in grief, and will offer you some useful suggestions for managing your own reactions. You ask whether your own reactions are “normal.” Please know that the range of reactions to the death of a loved one are as varied as there are people experiencing them. There is no right or wrong way to grieve – there is only your way, and as you go through it, you will discover what works for you and what does not. I cannot tell you when is a “healthy” time to return to work – you know yourself better than anyone, and you must balance your needs with the reality of your employer’s bereavement leave policy (which is probably way too short anyway!) Some people find returning to work a godsend because it gives them a much-needed respite from grief. Others find it difficult if not impossible to concentrate well enough to be of any use at work, even if they have no choice but to be there anyway. What I will suggest is that you meet with your supervisor and explain that, although you may not be at your best right now because you are mourning the death of your mother, you want to assure him or her that you are doing your best to deal with your reactions and get the help you need, and you are certain that the day will come when you’ll be back in top form once again. (I’d be very interested in knowing how our other visitors have dealt with this, and I hope they will offer some suggestions, too.) As for dealing with the reactions of others, I want to refer you to a very helpful piece that appears on my “Quotes and Poems/Comfort for Grieving Hearts” page, at http://www.griefhealing.com/Grievinghearts.htm . Once there, scroll down the page till you come to Bill Jenkins’ piece entitled “How to Help a Friend in Grief.” You might even print it out and give it to your friends and co-workers to read. Please know, too, that it is never too late to say whatever it is we need to say to our loved ones who have died. If it is consistent with your belief system, you might think about finding a way to speak to your mother’s spirit, whether that is through writing a letter, meditating, journaling, praying or any number of other methods. For example, you can find a place and time of quiet and solitude, and place your mother in a chair across from you, and then say whatever it is you need to say to her. You could write a letter, get all your feelings out, then seal it, burn it and release it as the smoke dissipates into the air. Whatever ritual you choose is up to you, limited only by your own imagination. The point of any of this is not so much that your mother hears or reads your message, but rather that you find a way to acknowledge, express and thus release whatever message you feel a need to send. That's just one way you may get past these (normal!) feelings of sadness, guilt and regret. Again, let’s see what others out there have to share with you in this regard. I hope this information proves helpful to you, Michelle, and I hope you’ll continue to visit us here. Learning how others have managed, survived, learned and even grown from losses of their own can be an invaluable source of support and encouragement for you. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

Dear Vickie, As I’m sure you have discovered, working your way through grief is some of the hardest work you’ll ever have to do, but realizing that you don’t have to do it all by yourself can be life-affirming. It takes enormous courage to admit that you need help -- but that in itself is a sign that you want to make it through this and somehow you will find a way to survive it. One of the saddest realities about losing a loved one is that friends and family members tend to be finished with our grief long before we are done with our own need to talk about it. That’s why it’s so important that you find an understanding, non-judgmental listener with whom you can openly acknowledge your reactions and experiences, express and work through your pain, and come to terms with all of this. I don't know how you found your way to our Grief and Loss Discussion Groups, but I am gratified that you did. At a time when it may be difficult for you to feel comfortable in the usual social settings, this forum gives you a safe place to interact with others. Here you can express feelings without fear of being judged, and ask questions and get responses from others – and at any hour of the day or night. It can be very comforting to communicate with others whose experiences may be similar to your own. No one knows the pain of grief as well as someone else who is experiencing it, too. It’s also very reassuring to learn that what you are going through is normal. So we want to welcome you here – and we look forward to hearing from you again. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

Dear Karen, There simply are no words to express the sorrow we all feel as we read of the death of your darling daughter, and I can only imagine how devastating this must be for you. Of course your life is forever changed as a result of Lucy's death -- 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 completely against the natural order of things, it is so terribly unjust, and it is so very hard to accept. I'm sure you already know that the bond you have with your daughter will be with you always, just as long as you keep her memory and the love you share with her alive in your heart. You will always be Lucy's mother, and Lucy will always be your beloved daughter. Death may have ended her life, but it certainly does not end the relationship you have with her. Although she is no longer physically present, it doesn't mean you cannot continue to love her in her absence. As you have discovered, grief is exhausting and saps every ounce of energy you may have, which makes it very difficult to be there emotionally and in every other way for your eight-year-old son. Of course you still love your remaining child dearly -- but he is not the daughter you have lost, and you have every right to miss your precious Lucy as much as you do. Since it's only been eight weeks since she died, I sincerely hope you've found someone to talk to about all of this. Grieving is difficult enough without having to do it all alone. Sharing your feelings, reactions and experiences with another 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 other mothers have found a way to survive a loss like this, then you will find your own way, too. You say you've looked into counseling and "there seems to be a waiting list"-- but please don't rule out talking to a trusted friend or relative, a neighbor or co-worker, a clergy person, even someone on the Internet. I also encourage you to contact The Compassionat Friends (at http://www.compassionatefriends.org ) to see if there is a support group near you comprised of other grieving parents. Even if counseling isn't available to you right now, try contacting your local library, mortuary or hospice organization to find out what other bereavement resources are available in your own community -- and if you don't have the energy to do this research yourself, perhaps you can ask a friend, relative or neighbor to do it for you. (Remember all those people who have said to you, "If there is anything I can do please let me know." This would be a good assignment for them!) I'm so grateful that your friend directed you to this Discussion Group (which can be a wonderful source of support and is always available you). If you haven't already done so, I hope you'll also take time to visit each of the pages on our Grief Healing Web site (at http://www.griefhealing.com ) -- it contains a wealth of information as well as links to many other helpful sites, each of which I've visited and reviewed personally. See the Links/Human Loss Links page on my site, at http://www.griefhealing.com/HumanLossLinks.htm. Scroll down the page to the category labeled DEATH OF A CHILD/GRANDCHILD. See especially these sites, each developed by parents whose feelings and experiences may be similar to your own: Baby Steps, at http://www.babysteps.com Bereaved Parents of the USA, at http://www.bereavedparentsusa.org The Compassionate Friends, at http://www.compassionatefriends.org Love Never Dies: A Mother's Journey from Loss to Love, at http://www.loveneverdies.net Mothers in Sympathy and Support, at http://www.misschildren.org You can also go to your library, bookstore or on the Internet to find and read some of the wonderful books others have written about coping with the death of a child -- they will help you learn what to expect in the weeks and months ahead, and they can reassure you that, although no one can do it for you and you must find your own way, you are not alone in this terrible grief journey of yours. See the Articles and Books page on my Web site, at http://www.griefhealing.com/columnsbooks.htm for suggestions. Once there, scroll down the page until you come to the section labeled Suggestions for Further Reading. Click on any title and you can read a description of each. (You don't have to buy these books from Amazon unless you want to; if you see a title that interests you, write down the title and ask for it in your public library.) Please know that we're all holding you in our thoughts and prayers, and we hope that from time to time you'll let us know how you and your son are doing. Wishing you peace and healing, Marty T

How awful for you to have lost both your precious poodles at once; I can only imagine the pain you must be feeling, and how empty your home and heart must feel without those cherished fur babies beside you. Although there is nothing I can say to make this any easier for you, I would like to share some thoughts with you. First, what you are feeling is normal. Grief is not a pathological condition; rather it is a normal response to the loss of someone we love. How you're reacting to the loss of these two darling poodles depends on how attached you were to them, on your relationship with them, and on the role that they played in your life. Notice how you say that since you cannot have children these little ones were like your kids and you did everything together; that right now it feels as if the best part of your life is gone. It's only natural that, when we lose that which we love the most, we feel the overwhelming pain of loss. No matter who or what we love, the greater the love, the worse the pain feels when we lose the object of our love. Grief is indifferent to the species lost, and your loss of these two poodles is worthy of the grief you are experiencing now. I’m not at all surprised to learn that you “went off”on your mother for arranging for you to go look at poodle puppies right away, even as you are in the very midst of grief. You might want to explain to your mother that you haven’t yet had an opportunity to grieve the ones you’ve so recently lost. You can tell her that grief takes an enormous amount of energy, and you don’t have a lot of emotional energy left over right now to place onto another puppy. It wouldn’t be fair to you and it certainly wouldn’t be fair to the new puppy. There are very good reasons why you may be reluctant to go out and obtain another puppy right away. For one thing, you know that if you allow yourself to love another dog, you certainly don’t want to have to go through all this pain again at some future point when that dog dies, too. I can tell you that the one sure way to avoid repeating the pain you're feeling now is to decide never to love like that again. Yet you know (in your head, if not your heart) that whenever we take a companion animal into our lives, sooner or later we are going to lose that animal, simply because the life span of a dog is so much shorter than our own. We like to think our animals will be with us forever, but deep down we know that cannot be. This reality is very hard for us to accept when we are confronted with the death of our cherished animals. Far better that we acknowledge that harsh reality when we opt to bring an animal into our lives in the first place. Grief is the price we pay for loving our animals so much. You cannot grieve deeply unless you’ve loved just as deeply. What also often stands in the way of our loving another pet is our sense of loyalty to the ones who just died. We confuse loving another animal with "replacing" the ones we've lost, and you may think no one could replace the precious poodles that you lost. It feels like an act of disloyalty, a violation of your dogs’ memory, an intrusion. After all, no other poodles could be like the ones you’ve just lost. No other dogs will have their unique qualities, nor should you expect them to. Instead of viewing your next puppy as a "replacement", try to think of him or her as making a new friend, one that you will learn about and come to love over time. Remember, too, that we humans have an infinite capacity to love. Think about what your poodles wanted from life, and what they would want for you now. One of the most endearing things about our animals is that they just want us to be happy. If death takes them away from us, once we've expressed and worked through our sorrow over losing them, wouldn't they want us to be happy once again, and to open our hearts to other animals in need of all our love? Some folks are so full of love that they can always find another chamber in their hearts to accommodate another precious animal -- others could never do that -- and still others discover that it's not so much that they go looking for another animal, but another animal just seems to find them when the time is right. Let your own heart be your guide. No one knows you better than you do. But if the day ever comes that you decide you’re ready to get another poodle, go ahead and do it. If you want to try a totally different breed of dog, that’s okay, too. I happen to believe that there is nothing wrong with wanting another dog to have characteristics as similar as possible to those of the ones we've loved and lost. Good heavens, that's why breeders work so hard to preserve the best qualities that distinguish their dogs from everyone else's! There is nothing wrong with being partial to a particular type of dog! That's why some people like Chihuahuas and others like Great Danes! (I happen to have a Tibetan terrier now, and I know that when Beringer joins all my other fur babies at the Rainbow Bridge some day, eventually I will want another Tibetan, simply because before I got him I researched the breed and he turned out to be exactly what I wanted him to be, based on what I had read about Tibetan terriers. To me, his breed is the best in the entire universe, and I would never settle for anything else. If I cannot have another Beringer, at the very least I can have another Tibetan terrier!) I hope this information is helpful to you, my friend, and I hope that others will offer suggestions of their own. Animal people are very special folks, and I’m so glad you found your way to this forum where I know you will find the comfort and understanding you deserve. Grief is very hard work, but you need not do it all alone. Wishing you peace and healing,

Dear Randie, I don’t know whether you’ve learned the results of the biopsy of Missy’s tumor, but I want you to know we are thinking of you and hoping for the best. I’d also like to offer some information that may be helpful as you face whatever lies ahead for you and your cherished companion. As you await the results of Missy’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 dog, 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 your dog, remember that you will be doing it for reasons of mercy and compassion. You will be choosing to end Missy’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 Missy: “Anticipatory Grief: Anticipating the Loss of a Pet,” at http://www.griefhealing.com/article1.htm “Thinking It Through: Exploring Questions about Euthanasia,” at http://www.griefhealing.com/article3.htm “Euthanasia, The Merciful Release,” at http://www.griefhealing.com/blessing.htm “The Fourth Day,” at http://www.griefhealing.com/fourthday.htm and “Making the Euthanasia Decision,” at http://www.avma.org/care4pets/losspetl.htm 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 http://www.selfhealingexpressions.com/pet_loss.shtml I hope this information proves useful to you, Randie. 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 Missy are doing. Wishing you peace and healing,

Dear Emma I'm so sorry to learn of your dear father’s death barely five months ago. As you say, his death has left an emptiness inside you that cannot be filled. Even if you didn't see him very often, still you knew he was there for you, loving you, caring about you and worrying about you. My own dear father played a similar role in my life; he died in 1977, and I still miss him terribly! I'm sure you've learned by now that "getting over" the death of someone you loved so much is impossible. We never "get over" such losses; instead, over time, we find ways to get through our grief and live in a world without the physical presence of our loved one in it. I can also tell you that the very special bond you have with your father will remain with you always. He will always be your dad, and he will be with you just as long as you strive to keep his memory alive in your heart and in your mind. As you work your way through this grief journey, keep in mind that it is the pain of losing your dad that you will one day manage to "let go" of -- but you need never "let go" of your relationship with him. As someone once said, death may end a life, but it does not end a relationship. So often we torture ourselves thinking we need to "let go" of our loved ones who have died and say goodbye to them forever more -- but when you loved your dad that much, why in the world would you want to let go of him? Focus instead on letting go of your pain. Think of what your dad would want for you as you live the rest of your life. Surely he would want you to miss him very much, as you do -- but do you really believe he would want to see you suffering and miserable forever more? Perhaps instead he would want you to go on to live a good life as a way of honoring his memory. Remember too that, although you cannot be where your father is now, in a very real sense your father is very much here with you, wherever you are, because his spirit and his memory live on in you, and because you are so very much a part of him. In many ways, you are more inseparable now than you were before, because you are not limited by space and time and distance. You ask how long you should be feeling this way, and I can only tell you that grief has no specific time frame. It’s a little like asking “how high is up?” You may feel trapped in what you describe as “cuckoo land” at times, but that is because grief can indeed make us look and feel a little “crazy” sometimes. Grief can affect every aspect of our being: physical, emotional, social and spiritual. Take comfort in knowing that grief is not a pathological condition; rather it is a normal response to losing a loved one – and we grieve in proportion to the relationship we had with the person who has died. In that sense, grief is the price we pay for loving. You also say you're not getting much support or understanding from your colleagues at work, who don't seem to appreciate the very special relationship you had with your dad, or how difficult it must be for you now to cope with your loss of him. Unfortunately, Emma, that too is not uncommon. People tend to be finished with our grief a lot sooner than we are done with our own need to talk about it. But there are many sources of help for grieving people out there -- you just need to take the time to find it. You might begin by reading a little about what normal grief looks like, so you'll have a better understanding of what you're going through and what to expect in the weeks and months ahead -- it also may reassure you that what you're experiencing is quite normal under the circumstances. My own Grief Healing Web site contains a number of articles I've written on various aspects of grief (see my Articles and Books page), beautiful pieces written by others (see Quotes and Poems/Comfort for Grieving Hearts well as links to other sources of information on the Human Loss Links page. If you haven't already been there, you can get to my site by visiting http://www.griefhealing.com. Participating in an on-line discussion group such as this one is another positive step, because it enables you to give your grief a voice. Here you can share your story of loss and find emotional support and even inspiration from others whose experiences may be similar to your own. And it's available to you at no cost, 24 hours a day, seven days a week. Grief is very hard work, Emma, but you don’t have to do it all alone. It is our hope that here you’ll find some of the comfort and support you need and deserve. Wishing you peace and healing,

Dear Ally, Like everyone else reading your tragic story, I am terribly shocked and saddened to read of the death of your precious son Daniel and the horrifying circumstances of the accident that killed him. That your son “paid for his first real mistake with his life” is beyond understanding, and I cannot begin to imagine how devastating this loss must be for you. I am struck by your statement that no one will tell you how your son actually died, that important details are missing, and that all your questions are being met with a “wall of silence.” I want to assure you that your need to know the details of what happened to your son is NOT “macabre”– it is a normal and legitimate response to the unanticipated and violent manner in which your son was killed. The suddenness of Daniel’s death, the way you were notified about the accident, the fact that you had no opportunity to get to your son to spend loving time with him before he died, or to see and touch and hold his body – all these factors are complicating the grief you are experiencing now. Getting to one’s child as soon as possible after a fatal accident is extremely important to parents – even though they may encounter considerable resistance from law enforcement officials and others in allowing them to do so. Read the words of another mother who found herself in a similar position: Permission was finally granted for me to see Timothy on the condition that I “didn’t do anything silly.” As they watched, I presumed that meant I was not to touch him or disturb anyone. But Timothy was my child; he had not ceased to be my child. (He had not suddenly become a corpse, a body or the deceased.) I desperately needed to hold him, to look at him, to see his wounds. I needed to comfort and cuddle him, to examine and inspect him, to try to understand and most of all to hold him. Yet, I had been told “not to do anything silly.” If I did, I feared my watchers would run in, constrain me and lead me away. So I betrayed my own instincts and my son by standing there and "not doing anything silly." Our society has lost touch with our most basic instincts – the instincts we share with other mammals. We marvel at a mother cat washing her kittens. We admire the protection an elephant gives her sick calf. We are tearful and sympathize when an animal refuses to leave its dead offspring, nuzzling him and willing him to live again. That is exactly what a mother’s human instinct tells her to do. If a mother is not able to examine, hold and nuzzle her dead child, she is being denied motherhood in its extreme (Awooner-Renner, S., “I Desperately Needed to See My Son,” British Medical Journal, 32, 356.) Family members who aren’t given time with their loved one’s body at the scene of an accident or aren’t told the truth about the body tend to imagine images far more grotesque than reality, and they commonly fill in the blanks between the bits and pieces they pick up from the media, the coroner’s office, the police investigators and others. Given only get minimal facts, their fantasies are often far worse than the reality of what actually happened. When the time feels right to you and if you still feel a need to do so, I want to encourage you to find out exactly what happened to your son. There is nothing wrong with your wanting to seek out whoever was the final link to your dead son (the first officer on the scene, the paramedic who put him in the ambulance or the coroner who examined his body and determined the cause of death) and asking for details, including seeing whatever photographs were taken at the scene. (The organization Parents of Murdered Children has developed a very effective protocol for viewing such photographs; see http://www.pomc.com/.) Much of the work of grieving involves remembering – but when remembering produces only traumatic images such as yours, Ally, the value of remembering is lost. Specialists who work with trauma survivors tell us that effective grief work cannot begin until the trauma is dealt with first. If you’re still experiencing anxiety, sleeplessness, intrusive images and nightmares, I want to encourage you to seek the help of a trauma specialist – a therapist who understands that trauma work must be done before you can begin the grief work that lies before you, as you come to terms with this horrible death of your son. Go to the TRAUMATIC LOSS page on my GriefHealing Web site for a list of suggested resources. In the meantime, please know that we are holding you are in our hearts and in our prayers. Wishing you peace and healing,

Son by My Side Early each morning, long before the roosters wake, my son instinctively rolls out of bed and slumbers down the hallway with his pillows in tow. His daily migration always leads to the foot of our bed and is followed by our rude awakening as he wedges between me and my wife. Our bed does not comfortably fit the three of us. I'm forced to sleep on my left side and my wife on her right. My wife goes through similar pains as she wrestles back to sleep. This arrangement leave us tired and sore each morning. If I find myself resting next to a bed with tubes and wires invading my son as monitors watch his motionless sleep, I will desperately pray for him and his pillow to come home and shatter the morning's peace at the foot of our bed. If I find myself resting next to a slab marked by a stone that speaks of my son, I will heartfully beg to reset the clock to when my side of the bed was not my own. It's now 3:00 a.m. and I find myself fighting for rest. My arm is sore and sleep is beyond reach ~ But I silently lie in the morning calm as tears fill my eyes and I consider how truly blessed is my life with my son by my side. -- Copyright © 2003 by Mike Kleiman Mail to: mikekleiman@cs.com Used with permission of the author