Making it through another Christmas without my son, Jacob, is hard. When I allow myself to think about all that could/should have been, the pain is deep and tears flow easily. Most of the time, I just try to keep my thoughts elsewhere. I know I'm not alone in this approach. Many people have become my support during these past two years, three months, and most of them have been other moms who have lost children. It is to these people I look to determine whether my actions and attitudes are "normal"~whatever that means.
Last night, I found myself going to a group on Facebook I've been a part of for over a year. Most of the group members are moms who have lost children. The group is called "Who Am I Now?" It is a closed group, so I apologize that you can't go check it out. Sometimes it's important for us to have a safe place to go and write what we need to write. Other moms who've lost children can understand our need to cry out for help or to say it has been a suprisingly good couple of weeks. We can freely write about our children and not worry about someone getting bored with what we would like to share. As I pored over the site last night, I found a wonderful posting by one of the moms. She had gotten it from a website called HeavenLetters (http://heavenletters.org), and I'd like to share it here.
HEAVEN #2943 A Ride on a Magic Carpet, December 15, 2008
God said:
No matter what I say and how much I say, it seems that My children fear death, so-called death. Do you not know that leaving the cumbersome body is part of life?
That the body dies is no secret. Must it seem like such a dire thing? Must it? Life on Earth is not really a matter of life and death. I know you think so. You think that death is some horror waiting for you. Haven't you been taught to fear it? Camps called hospitals have been set up to delay it, medicines to defray it. Concern with the body's death is an occupation on Earth. Do not let it become a preoccupation. It's not worth it.
I will tell you, with all due regard to life, that from life to death is like going from riding a donkey to riding a magic carpet. I do not disparage life on Earth by calling it a donkey, for you know I love everything, every creature, and you. Riding a donkey is a wonderful thing. Flying on a magic carpet is another wonderful thing. This magic carpet awaits all. It exists for you. It is your servant. No one really wants to live forever in his body.
Death is not a vulture waiting for you. There is no death, beloveds. It is a lovely thing to ride on this metaphor of a magic carpet. When you ride on this magic carpet, illusion falls away. All the troubles of the world are illusion. Do you really want to hang on to illusion forever?Illusion serves you as it serves you. It serves only for a little while. It serves only in the illusion of time. Will you believe me when I tell you that Reality far exceeds even the finest of illusions on Earth? Again, this is not to take away from what you hold important and all the love that the world does hold. This is not to take you away from the joy of children and the fun of hopping, skipping, and jumping. Because the world is illusion doesn't take away a jot from the joys of illusion. The joys of illusion are like previews of what is to come. Not only what is to come, but what has been, and never was otherwise.
The clothes you wear on Earth are cover-ups. Even the body is hidden on Earth. How much more is hidden from your view!
There is no death. There is no purgatory. If there is purgatory, consider life on Earth that. Life on Earth purges you of many things. That is not to say that you need to get ready to be in My Presence. You have never been anywhere else. You are already in My Presence.
I simply don't want you to have so much mumbo-jumbo about death. Death does not bring you to your knees. It is not an ogre. It does not defeat you. It is just a servant. Whatever you think, it serves you well. It is not that Death helps you to escape from life. Death is a leaving, but it is not an escape. Life is yours forever. Death brushes your hair from your eyes so that you can see all that which was obscured from your view. It is like Death takes your sunglasses off. You simply don't need them anymore. No angle of the Sun's light is too bright for you anymore.Are sunglasses, even designer sunglasses, really so precious to you? Do you think you are not you without them?
When your body dies, nothing has happened. It is not the big deal you have thought.When on Earth you travel from one country to another, you simply travel from one beautiful country to another. You are still you.
And when your time on Earth is up, you simply change your direction and continue on your adventure. And you are still you.
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Do I Have A Disease?
There are many things we are not prepared for when we experience the death of a loved one. Perhaps one of the strangest things for me was watching how people reacted when they saw me in public after Jacob died. The reaction I am speaking of is the one that always leaves me feeling as though I have a disease.
The grocery store is the location where these reactions took place most often. Knowing that some people were not comfortable talking to me following the death of my son, I tried to be very accommodating when I would run into people. I would not force myself upon people. Eye contact and a brief smile was my typical approach. With people who seemed REALLY uncomfortable seeing me, I would actually look away and allow them the freedom to approach me or walk away. It is the ones who would walk away that left me feeling like I had some disease that they wanted to avoid (like the plague).
A good friend of mine who also lost her son said she thinks people who turn and walk away actually fear that if they come near us, their child will also die. I would have to agree with her to some extent. Either that, or they are so extremely uncomfortable with even thinking of a child's death that they would rather flee than spend a few painful moments asking us how we are doing.
Just a few days ago, I saw a woman out of the corner of my eye. For some reason, I always seem to run into her in the produce section. Well, we don't really run into one another because every time she sees me, she turns away and disappears down some other aisle. At this particular grocery store, the produce section is the first area you come to, so it's the first section people shop in. But this woman never seems to need produce when I'm there.
The sad thing is, she and I used to run into each other before and we'd always have a warm exchange and talk for a few minutes. If we didn't have other places we needed to be, we were capable of talking for half an hour or more. That's just how we connected with one another. Now, my presence seems to cause her to flee. This last time, I happened to be talking to another friend when this woman walked into the store. I purposely tried to make sure she saw me laughing with my friend in an attempt to put her at ease, but when I looked in her direction again, she was gone.
The grocery store is the location where these reactions took place most often. Knowing that some people were not comfortable talking to me following the death of my son, I tried to be very accommodating when I would run into people. I would not force myself upon people. Eye contact and a brief smile was my typical approach. With people who seemed REALLY uncomfortable seeing me, I would actually look away and allow them the freedom to approach me or walk away. It is the ones who would walk away that left me feeling like I had some disease that they wanted to avoid (like the plague).
A good friend of mine who also lost her son said she thinks people who turn and walk away actually fear that if they come near us, their child will also die. I would have to agree with her to some extent. Either that, or they are so extremely uncomfortable with even thinking of a child's death that they would rather flee than spend a few painful moments asking us how we are doing.
Just a few days ago, I saw a woman out of the corner of my eye. For some reason, I always seem to run into her in the produce section. Well, we don't really run into one another because every time she sees me, she turns away and disappears down some other aisle. At this particular grocery store, the produce section is the first area you come to, so it's the first section people shop in. But this woman never seems to need produce when I'm there.
The sad thing is, she and I used to run into each other before and we'd always have a warm exchange and talk for a few minutes. If we didn't have other places we needed to be, we were capable of talking for half an hour or more. That's just how we connected with one another. Now, my presence seems to cause her to flee. This last time, I happened to be talking to another friend when this woman walked into the store. I purposely tried to make sure she saw me laughing with my friend in an attempt to put her at ease, but when I looked in her direction again, she was gone.
Another friend who lost her daughter exactly a year ago this Christmas is a hair dresser. She is in the process of leaving her current shop to join another shop. Why? Because she has lost half of her clientele in the past year, since her daughter's death. She thinks several of them are due to her clients' discomfort with her grief and loss. Much of the time she made a conscious effort not to mention her daughter's death, but for her long-time customers, most of them knew her daughter. Even with them, she tried not to talk about her daughter too much, but talking is often times the most therapeutic way of coping with grief. She felt it was safe with her closest friends who were customers, but it was some of her closest friends who stopped coming to her.
If you have not lost a child, but know someone who has, please don't run away from them. We know it might get old, but please take the time to ask us how we are doing. But more importantly, allow us to talk to you about the child who died. Ask questions, if you can. Most parents who have lost children love to talk about them. Speaking of them allows us to feel like they are close, and it somehow validates the life they lived. To ignore their lives as though they never existed is the hugest insult most parents can possibly experience after the death of a child.
My First ADC's
Within days of Jacob's death, I began having powerful dreams where Jacob was communicating important messages to me. The first was a dream that was so extremely vivid that I could literally feel the fabric of Jacob's shirt and his skin. I was sitting in a bedroom when Jacob's best friend walked in. I asked him what he was doing, and he simply stated "they" were playing video games. Then, I looked up and saw Jacob standing in the doorway. I immediately jumped up and ran to him asking, "Jacob, what are you doing here?" There was a clear understanding in my mind that Jacob had already died. When I took hold of his right arm with both of my hands, I could feel his shirt and skin. He began moving to a corner of the room and I continued holding on to him but turned away briefly. When I looked back at Jacob, he was no longer in my hands, but my daughter was. My heart sank. Even though Jacob wasn't visible I could "hear" him in my spirit say, "Mom, I'm not with you anymore, but Raleigh is. You need to take care of her now. I will see you again, but now it's time to take care of Raleigh." I awoke from that dream with mixed feelings--delighted to have seen and touched my son, but so sad he was gone. I also was encouraged that he wanted me to take good care of his sister. That dream gave me the strength to be more available and attentive to Raleigh.
A series of dreams that came in the weeks after Jacob's death all had a similar theme. I was being given the option to tell Jacob to do something different so he would not have his accident. Each time he was alive, and I was aware that his accident had not yet happened. Every time I was about to tell him to do something different, I would wake up. Since I believe God still communicates to us through dreams, just as He did throughout the Bible, I had a strong sense that God was telling me something. Even though I wanted desperately to change what had happened, I couldn't. Those things lie outside of my control. I think Jacob wanted me to know that as well.
A series of dreams that came in the weeks after Jacob's death all had a similar theme. I was being given the option to tell Jacob to do something different so he would not have his accident. Each time he was alive, and I was aware that his accident had not yet happened. Every time I was about to tell him to do something different, I would wake up. Since I believe God still communicates to us through dreams, just as He did throughout the Bible, I had a strong sense that God was telling me something. Even though I wanted desperately to change what had happened, I couldn't. Those things lie outside of my control. I think Jacob wanted me to know that as well.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
The ADC's
No, it's not a typo. The title is supposed to say "The ADC's." What are ADC's? Those letters stand for After-Death Communication, so the ADC's are the after-death communications from people who haved died.
By now, you've either rolled your eyes thinking, "Here is some fruit-cake idea," or you've thought about closing the screen out of concern that this topic is an offense to your religious beliefs, or you're still reading because you're not sure what to think of this topic and you're curious to see what it's all about. One other possibililty is you are already familiar with this acronym because of your own interest in or experience with this topic.
Let me first say that most people have experienced an ADC of some sort or another in their lifetime, whether they have called it that or not. For some it might be through songs they hear on the radio that remind them of loved ones who are gone. For others it might be birds that seem to be singing a beautiful song just for them. Dreams, rainbows or even butterflies might be the form through which others experience a connection with a friend or family member who has died. This isn't an experience that is scary or limited to only a few, rare individuals. These experiences are usually a source of great, lasting comfort and joy and far more common than we might think.
Over the years, I remember hearing stories of the ways people felt a connection with a beloved grandparent, aunt, uncle, friend, etc. after they died. These stories always caught my attention because they were uplifting and encouraging to me. I don't recall ever doubting someone's story. The people who shared them were level-headed people who, in all ways visible to me, were very normal. They also had no reason to make up such stories.
After experiencing ADC's myself and sharing them with others, I have been astounded by how many people quickly share their own stories, which only serves to affirm my belief that they are real. Since many of my friends are people of the Christian faith, virtually all of the stories I heard were coming from people who were not visiting mediums or playing with Quija boards. These were people much like me, who had never experienced anything like it before, but when it happened, they knew almost instinctively it was connected to their loved one who had died. They were not looking for anything out of the ordinary, it simply happened, and they noticed it.
Over the weeks and months to come, I will share with you my own ADC's as well as the experiences other people have shared with me. In the meantime, there are various places on the internet where you can read people's accounts of their own ADC's. One of my personal favorites is: http://adcrf.org/ADC%20Stories.htm. Hope you will visit their site which lists hundreds of stories people have shared. Be sure to check back here as well! :)
By now, you've either rolled your eyes thinking, "Here is some fruit-cake idea," or you've thought about closing the screen out of concern that this topic is an offense to your religious beliefs, or you're still reading because you're not sure what to think of this topic and you're curious to see what it's all about. One other possibililty is you are already familiar with this acronym because of your own interest in or experience with this topic.
Let me first say that most people have experienced an ADC of some sort or another in their lifetime, whether they have called it that or not. For some it might be through songs they hear on the radio that remind them of loved ones who are gone. For others it might be birds that seem to be singing a beautiful song just for them. Dreams, rainbows or even butterflies might be the form through which others experience a connection with a friend or family member who has died. This isn't an experience that is scary or limited to only a few, rare individuals. These experiences are usually a source of great, lasting comfort and joy and far more common than we might think.
Over the years, I remember hearing stories of the ways people felt a connection with a beloved grandparent, aunt, uncle, friend, etc. after they died. These stories always caught my attention because they were uplifting and encouraging to me. I don't recall ever doubting someone's story. The people who shared them were level-headed people who, in all ways visible to me, were very normal. They also had no reason to make up such stories.
After experiencing ADC's myself and sharing them with others, I have been astounded by how many people quickly share their own stories, which only serves to affirm my belief that they are real. Since many of my friends are people of the Christian faith, virtually all of the stories I heard were coming from people who were not visiting mediums or playing with Quija boards. These were people much like me, who had never experienced anything like it before, but when it happened, they knew almost instinctively it was connected to their loved one who had died. They were not looking for anything out of the ordinary, it simply happened, and they noticed it.
Over the weeks and months to come, I will share with you my own ADC's as well as the experiences other people have shared with me. In the meantime, there are various places on the internet where you can read people's accounts of their own ADC's. One of my personal favorites is: http://adcrf.org/ADC%20Stories.htm. Hope you will visit their site which lists hundreds of stories people have shared. Be sure to check back here as well! :)
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Freedom To Grieve As Necessary
Today I visited a wonderful memorial website for a beloved wife and mother http://kamalinisamuel.com/. I looked through the pictures and some of the video. I read what others had written and pondered in my heart what I had seen and read. One thing that touched me deeply was seeing the grief on the faces of this lovely woman's husband and daughters.
Two and a half years ago, these pictures might have seemed disturbing to me somehow. There are clear images of the girls touching their mother and laying their heads upon her body as they grieve. Today I look at them and think about how grateful I am that they felt the freedom to touch her and weep openly. They needed to do it and the culture of their environment allowed it to happen.
A few years ago, a young child in our community died. The mother chose to have her child's body in their home. Family members took turns touching his body and even holding him. During the funeral service, the mother held her precious son's body. Such actions were clearly not typical or well received by all who witnessed them. I remember thinking to myself that I was so glad the family didn't allow our sterile culture of cold morgues and embalming fluids to keep them from embracing their little son/brother as they needed. Yes, it shocked people and left them feeling uncomfortable, but who cares? During that time, it wasn't about the people who were watching. It was ALL about that family and what they needed to do. My guess is there is little or no regret over what they did.
Certain social rules, cultural norms or even personal experience will often dictate how comfortable we are with expressing our grief and touching the body of someone who has died. As a little girl, my grandmother encouraged me to touch my grandfather's body as it lay in a casket. I did so, but never forgot how it upset me to feel how cold and stiff he was. That left a lasting impression. As a 17 year-old, I stood next to my sister-in-law's casket and stared at her. She was a beautiful woman, but I could see evidence of the trauma her body had experienced in the car accident. Later, I wished my last image of her was when she was alive and laughing. Both experiences left a mark on me that influenced how I responded after Jacob's death.
At first, I didn't even want to see Jacob's body. How could I look at my son with his wounds and survive? After being told that he "looked good," my husband convinced me I needed to say goodbye. The whole process took only a couple of minutes. As I stood there looking at Jacob's body, everything in me was screaming out, "No, no! This can't be him! This isn't him!" I knew Jacob wasn't there. His body was convered in a white sheet up to his chin. His scalp was completely wrapped in an inch of gauze. Only his beautiful face was visible. I walked out of that room never having touched him, and to this day, I feel such guilt and regret for being unable to do so. I wish that my experiences and culture had created an attitude and environment that would have allowed me to touch my son freely.
Tonight, my husband and I are having dinner with two other couples who have become friends. Both couples have lost a child in a car accident. One of the mothers has shared how she took the initiative to pull back the sheet that covered her son. She needed and wanted to see his injuries. The other mother touched her daughter repeatedly and kissed her multiple times while stroking her daughter's hair and face. I am so glad they did.
An aunt who recently lost her husband said she crawled into the bed next to her husband's body and held him. Others spoke up and said she probably should not do that, but she boldly responded by saying, "This is the last time that I will be able to lay next to my husband! I'm going to do this!" Good for her.
Two and a half years ago, these pictures might have seemed disturbing to me somehow. There are clear images of the girls touching their mother and laying their heads upon her body as they grieve. Today I look at them and think about how grateful I am that they felt the freedom to touch her and weep openly. They needed to do it and the culture of their environment allowed it to happen.
A few years ago, a young child in our community died. The mother chose to have her child's body in their home. Family members took turns touching his body and even holding him. During the funeral service, the mother held her precious son's body. Such actions were clearly not typical or well received by all who witnessed them. I remember thinking to myself that I was so glad the family didn't allow our sterile culture of cold morgues and embalming fluids to keep them from embracing their little son/brother as they needed. Yes, it shocked people and left them feeling uncomfortable, but who cares? During that time, it wasn't about the people who were watching. It was ALL about that family and what they needed to do. My guess is there is little or no regret over what they did.
Certain social rules, cultural norms or even personal experience will often dictate how comfortable we are with expressing our grief and touching the body of someone who has died. As a little girl, my grandmother encouraged me to touch my grandfather's body as it lay in a casket. I did so, but never forgot how it upset me to feel how cold and stiff he was. That left a lasting impression. As a 17 year-old, I stood next to my sister-in-law's casket and stared at her. She was a beautiful woman, but I could see evidence of the trauma her body had experienced in the car accident. Later, I wished my last image of her was when she was alive and laughing. Both experiences left a mark on me that influenced how I responded after Jacob's death.
At first, I didn't even want to see Jacob's body. How could I look at my son with his wounds and survive? After being told that he "looked good," my husband convinced me I needed to say goodbye. The whole process took only a couple of minutes. As I stood there looking at Jacob's body, everything in me was screaming out, "No, no! This can't be him! This isn't him!" I knew Jacob wasn't there. His body was convered in a white sheet up to his chin. His scalp was completely wrapped in an inch of gauze. Only his beautiful face was visible. I walked out of that room never having touched him, and to this day, I feel such guilt and regret for being unable to do so. I wish that my experiences and culture had created an attitude and environment that would have allowed me to touch my son freely.
Tonight, my husband and I are having dinner with two other couples who have become friends. Both couples have lost a child in a car accident. One of the mothers has shared how she took the initiative to pull back the sheet that covered her son. She needed and wanted to see his injuries. The other mother touched her daughter repeatedly and kissed her multiple times while stroking her daughter's hair and face. I am so glad they did.
An aunt who recently lost her husband said she crawled into the bed next to her husband's body and held him. Others spoke up and said she probably should not do that, but she boldly responded by saying, "This is the last time that I will be able to lay next to my husband! I'm going to do this!" Good for her.
When someone we love dies, we must allow ourselves the freedom to do whatever we need to do. I wish that I had understood my own need better at the time of Jacob's death. If so, I would have hugged him and kissed him. If you've not already faced that moment, please seriously think through this and give yourself permission to do what feels right to you. When that moment does come, you want to be somewhat prepared to respond in a way that you will not regret later.
Friday, December 12, 2008
Surrounding Ourselves With The Right People
After a significant loss, it is important to protect ourselves. We become very vulnerable, so we must find people who will be respectful of our grief. Otherwise, we might be deeply hurt and begin to supress our grief. If the people closest to us are telling us to stop crying and to "get over it," it is important to begin seeking out support from other people. One way to do that is to find others who have been through our same loss. Often times, it is possible to find grief support groups, some of which might be focused on specific types of loss.
Griefnet.org is a great resource on the internet. This link will take you to a comprehensive list of support groups of several kinds: http://www.griefnet.org/support/sg2.html#spouse. Specific support groups exist for those who've lost loved ones to suicide, murder, cancer. etc. Part of the beauty of the internet is our accessability to resources that were once only available to people who lived in larger cities.
The best possible form of support is through family or friends, but if we do not have sufficient support there, our next step would be to find a grief support group in our community. If we are unable to find a support group focused on our specific loss, we should look for a support group nonetheless. A support group for parents who have lost children now exists in my community, but it didn't exist in those first months after Jacob's death. I found a group that was general in its grief support, but there were other parents there who had also lost children. Widows and widowers found others who had also lost a spouse. The causes of death varied as well. What I found most helpful was that we all validated one another's grief, even if we couldn't understand it fully.
If family and/or friends have not experienced our same kind of loss, they might not be able to offer the support we need, despite their best attempts to do so. Others who have walked on the same path we walk can be an unexpected source of comfort, encouragement and support. Hopefully, they will reach out to us, but we may have to seek them out and see if they are willing to talk with us.
My community has an extraordinary number of parents who have lost children, so many of them reached out to my husand and me. They offered the best advice and pure honesty, even some that hurt to hear at first, but proved to be helpful in the long run. In return, we reached out to parents who lost children after Jacob died. Within 15 months of Jacob's death, four families we knew experienced the death of children who were in their teens. Two of them were classmates of Jacob's.
We are never in this alone.
Griefnet.org is a great resource on the internet. This link will take you to a comprehensive list of support groups of several kinds: http://www.griefnet.org/support/sg2.html#spouse. Specific support groups exist for those who've lost loved ones to suicide, murder, cancer. etc. Part of the beauty of the internet is our accessability to resources that were once only available to people who lived in larger cities.
The best possible form of support is through family or friends, but if we do not have sufficient support there, our next step would be to find a grief support group in our community. If we are unable to find a support group focused on our specific loss, we should look for a support group nonetheless. A support group for parents who have lost children now exists in my community, but it didn't exist in those first months after Jacob's death. I found a group that was general in its grief support, but there were other parents there who had also lost children. Widows and widowers found others who had also lost a spouse. The causes of death varied as well. What I found most helpful was that we all validated one another's grief, even if we couldn't understand it fully.
If family and/or friends have not experienced our same kind of loss, they might not be able to offer the support we need, despite their best attempts to do so. Others who have walked on the same path we walk can be an unexpected source of comfort, encouragement and support. Hopefully, they will reach out to us, but we may have to seek them out and see if they are willing to talk with us.
My community has an extraordinary number of parents who have lost children, so many of them reached out to my husand and me. They offered the best advice and pure honesty, even some that hurt to hear at first, but proved to be helpful in the long run. In return, we reached out to parents who lost children after Jacob died. Within 15 months of Jacob's death, four families we knew experienced the death of children who were in their teens. Two of them were classmates of Jacob's.
We are never in this alone.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Have A Plan
Whenever we have lost someone significant in life, there are going to be certain dates that are going to be difficult to face. Birthdays, anniversaries (wedding or the day of death), holidays, etc. As those dates approach, we need to begin developing a plan for the day. That doesn't mean fill the day with all kinds of activities to keep our minds off the ones we have lost. It means have a plan for how we will spend that day to avoid getting swallowed up by grief and sorrow. Those days are going to be difficult, to be sure, but we can arrange each of those days in such a way as to make it possible to survive and get through to day after.
Perhaps the worst thing we can do is allow a special day to descend upon us without any plan at all. That's when we will find ourselves sitting in a chair all day long just crying. Maybe that works for a few individuals, but most of us would find ourselves consumed by the weight of such grief and sink deeper into depression. It is important for us to be proactive and keep ourselves out of the pit of despair, if we can.
What does a plan look like? It could be as detailed as an hour by hour list of what we will do for the day, or as general as a few basic goals for what we would like to accomplish that day in relation to the one we have lost. For instance, I might decide that I want to buy special flowers to take to the cemetery, write a letter to the one I have lost, and go for a walk in one of our favorite places. That is a very basic plan with no time frames as to when my activities will be done. I might get more detailed by deciding that I want to spend time writing in my journal early in the morning, followed by a long walk. In the afternoon I might set aside time to look at old photos with friends or family agreeing ahead of time that I need to have the freedom to cry, if necessary (and probably likely).
Our plans don't need to be rigid or lengthy and detailed, but having a plan of some sort is essential. If the thought of making a plan is too overwhelming, we should find others who can help us. We don't need to be afraid or ashamed to ask for help if we need it. Some people will be thrilled to help because they know they want to help but don't know what to do.
A few of our friends organized a gathering at the beach on Jacob's birthday. They knew Jacob loved the beach, so they thought it was appropriate to meet there. Food was coordinated and brought. We didn't have to set up or clean up. Then we were surprised with a night at a condo on the beach. Michael and I only planned to visit the cemetery the morning of Jacob's birthday. Everything else was done for us. That was for the first birthday we faced which was 7 months after his death. For the 2nd birthday, it was completely up to us, but we were ready to make the plans by then. That time, we chose to drive to the accident site and plant flowers around the cross that marks the site. It took us nearly 10 hours in the car roundtrip. During the drive, we spoke of Jacob and some of our fondest memories of him. While we were planting flowers, a gentleman pulled up who was a first responder for Jacob's accident. We heard for the first time what our son's last moments of life were like from a person who was there. That was a gift from God. When we returned home that evening, we sang happy birthday, enjoyed Jacob's favorite birthday dessert, and our daughter opened up a gift my husband and I had bought for Jacob. As we sang happy birthday to Jacob, we were stopped by an unusual harmonic sound coming from one corner of the room. To this day, we don't know where that sound came from, but we considered it a parting of the veil that separates Heaven and Earth. We knew Jacob had come for his birthday party. I don't know what we will do for Jacob's next birthday on April 21, 2009, which will mark what would have been his 21st birthday. We still have four months to decide, but we will need to have a plan.
Having a plan is essential whether it is a birthday, holiday, or any special day, so begin your planning as soon as you can. Give yourself time and space to grieve, and surround yourself with people who will let you do whatever you need to do.
Perhaps the worst thing we can do is allow a special day to descend upon us without any plan at all. That's when we will find ourselves sitting in a chair all day long just crying. Maybe that works for a few individuals, but most of us would find ourselves consumed by the weight of such grief and sink deeper into depression. It is important for us to be proactive and keep ourselves out of the pit of despair, if we can.
What does a plan look like? It could be as detailed as an hour by hour list of what we will do for the day, or as general as a few basic goals for what we would like to accomplish that day in relation to the one we have lost. For instance, I might decide that I want to buy special flowers to take to the cemetery, write a letter to the one I have lost, and go for a walk in one of our favorite places. That is a very basic plan with no time frames as to when my activities will be done. I might get more detailed by deciding that I want to spend time writing in my journal early in the morning, followed by a long walk. In the afternoon I might set aside time to look at old photos with friends or family agreeing ahead of time that I need to have the freedom to cry, if necessary (and probably likely).
Our plans don't need to be rigid or lengthy and detailed, but having a plan of some sort is essential. If the thought of making a plan is too overwhelming, we should find others who can help us. We don't need to be afraid or ashamed to ask for help if we need it. Some people will be thrilled to help because they know they want to help but don't know what to do.
A few of our friends organized a gathering at the beach on Jacob's birthday. They knew Jacob loved the beach, so they thought it was appropriate to meet there. Food was coordinated and brought. We didn't have to set up or clean up. Then we were surprised with a night at a condo on the beach. Michael and I only planned to visit the cemetery the morning of Jacob's birthday. Everything else was done for us. That was for the first birthday we faced which was 7 months after his death. For the 2nd birthday, it was completely up to us, but we were ready to make the plans by then. That time, we chose to drive to the accident site and plant flowers around the cross that marks the site. It took us nearly 10 hours in the car roundtrip. During the drive, we spoke of Jacob and some of our fondest memories of him. While we were planting flowers, a gentleman pulled up who was a first responder for Jacob's accident. We heard for the first time what our son's last moments of life were like from a person who was there. That was a gift from God. When we returned home that evening, we sang happy birthday, enjoyed Jacob's favorite birthday dessert, and our daughter opened up a gift my husband and I had bought for Jacob. As we sang happy birthday to Jacob, we were stopped by an unusual harmonic sound coming from one corner of the room. To this day, we don't know where that sound came from, but we considered it a parting of the veil that separates Heaven and Earth. We knew Jacob had come for his birthday party. I don't know what we will do for Jacob's next birthday on April 21, 2009, which will mark what would have been his 21st birthday. We still have four months to decide, but we will need to have a plan.
Having a plan is essential whether it is a birthday, holiday, or any special day, so begin your planning as soon as you can. Give yourself time and space to grieve, and surround yourself with people who will let you do whatever you need to do.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Is Grief All There Is After Death?
After someone we love has died, grief overwhelms us. It's almost like a living organism that wraps itself around us. This organism grips our stomachs and makes it nearly impossible to eat. It invades our hearts, sometimes causing them to beat irregularly. We ache from the intensity of the organism's grip, but often times we can't even determine where exactly it hurts-perhaps because in some ways it hurts everywhere. Grief carries a lot of weight, so when it attaches itself to us, we look different, we walk differently, we breathe differently. So the question is, Do we ever break free of the grip grief has on us? If so, how and when?
The answer that comes to my mind immediately is, Yes, we do break free, if we are willing to do so. Some people cling to grief, long after grief has loosened its grip on them. Sometimes people will wear grief like a comforting blanket because it allows them certain freedoms upon which they become dependent. Grief offers us the freedom to cry whenever we need to, which is good and important. We might need to cry a lot, and if the intensity of the pain lingers, we might find ourselves needing to cry a lot for a long time. But when our grief (after it has subsided) becomes a license to cry whenever we want, over whatever we want, for however long we want, it is an abuse of that freedom. Grief offers us the freedom to be angry for a time, but when we consider it a right that we cling to for years, we make everyone around us miserable. We who are grieving are often given leeway when it comes to responsibility, but we ought not take it to a point of thinking it is now our perogative to be irresponsible. When we take the freedom that grief offers us and abuse those freedoms, we become prisoners of our own self-destructive behavior and attitudes. When that happens, we are unable to break free to enjoy life.
So, in some sense, we choose when grief no longer controls our lives. Grief will always be there, especially when the loss is someone who was very significant to us, but we don't have to let it always have the say in the quality of our life. When it comes to how we break free from grief's grip, we also can have a choice. Sometimes, however, it just happens.
The first moment I felt a slight release came only days after Jacob died. A friend of ours was in China on a business trip at the time of Jacob's accident. His wife had called him in China to give him the news, and he decided to call us at home. He spoke with my husband, Michael. After discussing the awful details of Jacob's death and accident, our friend began sharing funny thoughts and memories of Jacob with my husband. I didn't hear what he was saying, but I heard my husband laughing. That laughter came as such a shock, but I was thrilled to hear it. Not just anyone could make my husband or me laugh at that moment, but that particular friend certainly could. He had always made us laugh in the past, and he was able to do it, even in our darkest hour. That laughter gave me unbelievable hope that grief would not have its stranglehold on me forever.
Another clear moment of feeling grief's release came four or five days after Jacob's death. I learned that the mother of a classmate of Jacob's had experienced a vision. In the vision, Jacob came to her as a young boy and said to her, "Tell my mom I'm okay, and I'm learning a new dance, and I'm dancing with Jesus!" I didn't have to receive her story as a word of comfort. In fact, I could have been angry about the fact that SHE had the vision and not me. But thankfully, I saw it as a sign of hope and a message from Heaven. Those words had profound meaning to me, and this mother could not possibly have known why the exact words she shared were important. In fact, no one other than Jacob and my husband could have known. Since my husband hadn't been out of my sight since Jacob's death, I knew he had not told anyone the details that came out in that vision.
You see, the day before Jacob died, I cried in front of him and said, "How does a parent let go of a child (due to death), how does a mother ever let go of her son?" I spoke those words that day because Jacob's classmate had died. A.J. died of bone cancer that morning, September 23, 2006. I was standing next to Jacob when he received the news. My husand, Jacob and I all prayed for A.J. and his family. It was after the prayer that I broke down and spoke those words to Jacob. I even apologized to him for being so emotional, but he said he understood and that it was okay. The fact that, in her vision, Jacob said to this mother, "Tell my mom I'm okay," was an indication to me that he remembered how it hurt me to think about losing a son. He wanted to comfort me.
Another detail from the vision that was a clear indication that it was real was Jacob's reference to a "new dance." That very same day that Jacob's classmate died, he informed my husband and me for the first time in his life that he liked to dance. We were stunned! Our Jacob liked dancing?! What a complete surprise! He then pulled out his cell phone and played a video clip he took at a dance club earlier that week. He even pulled it out and showed it to me again the next day, the day he died. Why would he randomly say, "I'm learning a new dance" in that vision? He mentioned the dancing because it had been a part of our conversation that weekend, and he knew we'd remember. He also mentioned he was dancing with Jesus. The morning of his accident, Jacob and I were talking about Heaven and what it would be like. We had talked about Heaven the day before as well after he received news of A.J.'s death. We talked about how amazing it would be to see Jesus face to face.
The answer that comes to my mind immediately is, Yes, we do break free, if we are willing to do so. Some people cling to grief, long after grief has loosened its grip on them. Sometimes people will wear grief like a comforting blanket because it allows them certain freedoms upon which they become dependent. Grief offers us the freedom to cry whenever we need to, which is good and important. We might need to cry a lot, and if the intensity of the pain lingers, we might find ourselves needing to cry a lot for a long time. But when our grief (after it has subsided) becomes a license to cry whenever we want, over whatever we want, for however long we want, it is an abuse of that freedom. Grief offers us the freedom to be angry for a time, but when we consider it a right that we cling to for years, we make everyone around us miserable. We who are grieving are often given leeway when it comes to responsibility, but we ought not take it to a point of thinking it is now our perogative to be irresponsible. When we take the freedom that grief offers us and abuse those freedoms, we become prisoners of our own self-destructive behavior and attitudes. When that happens, we are unable to break free to enjoy life.
So, in some sense, we choose when grief no longer controls our lives. Grief will always be there, especially when the loss is someone who was very significant to us, but we don't have to let it always have the say in the quality of our life. When it comes to how we break free from grief's grip, we also can have a choice. Sometimes, however, it just happens.
The first moment I felt a slight release came only days after Jacob died. A friend of ours was in China on a business trip at the time of Jacob's accident. His wife had called him in China to give him the news, and he decided to call us at home. He spoke with my husband, Michael. After discussing the awful details of Jacob's death and accident, our friend began sharing funny thoughts and memories of Jacob with my husband. I didn't hear what he was saying, but I heard my husband laughing. That laughter came as such a shock, but I was thrilled to hear it. Not just anyone could make my husband or me laugh at that moment, but that particular friend certainly could. He had always made us laugh in the past, and he was able to do it, even in our darkest hour. That laughter gave me unbelievable hope that grief would not have its stranglehold on me forever.
Another clear moment of feeling grief's release came four or five days after Jacob's death. I learned that the mother of a classmate of Jacob's had experienced a vision. In the vision, Jacob came to her as a young boy and said to her, "Tell my mom I'm okay, and I'm learning a new dance, and I'm dancing with Jesus!" I didn't have to receive her story as a word of comfort. In fact, I could have been angry about the fact that SHE had the vision and not me. But thankfully, I saw it as a sign of hope and a message from Heaven. Those words had profound meaning to me, and this mother could not possibly have known why the exact words she shared were important. In fact, no one other than Jacob and my husband could have known. Since my husband hadn't been out of my sight since Jacob's death, I knew he had not told anyone the details that came out in that vision.
You see, the day before Jacob died, I cried in front of him and said, "How does a parent let go of a child (due to death), how does a mother ever let go of her son?" I spoke those words that day because Jacob's classmate had died. A.J. died of bone cancer that morning, September 23, 2006. I was standing next to Jacob when he received the news. My husand, Jacob and I all prayed for A.J. and his family. It was after the prayer that I broke down and spoke those words to Jacob. I even apologized to him for being so emotional, but he said he understood and that it was okay. The fact that, in her vision, Jacob said to this mother, "Tell my mom I'm okay," was an indication to me that he remembered how it hurt me to think about losing a son. He wanted to comfort me.
Another detail from the vision that was a clear indication that it was real was Jacob's reference to a "new dance." That very same day that Jacob's classmate died, he informed my husband and me for the first time in his life that he liked to dance. We were stunned! Our Jacob liked dancing?! What a complete surprise! He then pulled out his cell phone and played a video clip he took at a dance club earlier that week. He even pulled it out and showed it to me again the next day, the day he died. Why would he randomly say, "I'm learning a new dance" in that vision? He mentioned the dancing because it had been a part of our conversation that weekend, and he knew we'd remember. He also mentioned he was dancing with Jesus. The morning of his accident, Jacob and I were talking about Heaven and what it would be like. We had talked about Heaven the day before as well after he received news of A.J.'s death. We talked about how amazing it would be to see Jesus face to face.
I wasn't expecting or looking for someone to come to me with a vision of Jacob. Dreams of Jacob were already starting for me, but I did not expect other people to be having dreams or visions. My dreams were powerful and very meaningful, but they were to be somewhat expected given that my mind was constantly thinking of him every waking moment. The person who had the vision was the mother of a classmate who hadn't probably spoken directly to Jacob since he was in elementary school (which is why it makes perfect sense to me that he would appear as a younger child to her). She and I knew each other, but hadn't been in contact with one another for years, despite living only a few miles apart.
Grief was still overwhelming for several months to come, but experiences like this woman's vision helped to comfort me and loosen grief's grip. Knowing that God exists in the spiritual realm, I knew it was completely possible that God could do anything he wanted in that realm to reach out and comfort me. At the same time, I was very guarded because evil also has its place in the same realm. Scripture clearly states that Satan will disguise himself as an angel of light to deceive us. My prayers were continually asking God to give me wisdom and discernment, but to also give me eyes to see and ears to hear, because I did not want to miss a single thing He had for me. And open my eyes and ears HE DID!!!! Had I slammed the door shut on that vision and said it was completely from Satan, I would have missed the sweetest gift of healing God had brought to me.
Those gifts just kept on coming too! I experienced many of them, but they also came from all kinds of different people, people whom I trusted. They were also people who were not looking for these things. One friend, an ordained member of the clergy, stated he had never experienced a vision before in his life, but one morning as he was getting out of bed to have his daily time of prayer and reading, he had a very vivid vision of Jacob. Through it, he had a sense of the work Jacob might now be doing, at least in part. Jacob communicated to him, but telepathically rather than verbally, that he was having the time of his life in Heaven. Our friend said Jacob looked like a million bucks, and when he moved, his feet never touched the ground. Jacob's body moved effortlessly.
Grief is natural and it's important for us to walk through it. Grief, oddly enough, can serve a purpose that is helpful to us. Even for those of us who fully believe that life goes on and we will see our loved ones again, grief is very real. To brush over the grief process because our faith says that life continues even after death is scary to me. It denies the grief that comes from the temporary, yet horrific, separation, especially when it has come suddenly and out of the natural order of things. A parent never expects to bury a child. When a child dies, all the hopes and dreams you had for your future with that child are shattered. To expect someone to simply get past that is ridiculous and cruel.
I don't want to magnify grief, but I also don't want to minimize it. Grief has its place, but it doesn't have to take up residence in that place for the rest of our lives. Focusing on the blessings of having those loved ones in our lives is helpful. Over time, it's important to begin to look for positive ways to keep the loved one's light burning through us by serving others and carrying out a dream the loved one had. Turning our energy from grieving to living is the most important and helpful step we will ever take. Grief will define who we are for a time, but we don't need to let it define us for the rest of our lives. Today, I am still a mother who grieves the loss of her son, but I am so much more than that.
Other people's stories have served to encourage me tremendously. If you would like to learn more about my personal experiences since Jacob's death, you can always visit the memorial website I created: http://jacobnyenhuis.memory-of.com/. Another place where you can read other people's accounts is: http://adcrf.org/ADC%20Stories.htm I certainly don't claim that every person's account is true, accurate or from God, but many of them are extremely encouraging and might be helpful. You may begin to recognize the gifts intended for you that you simply missed before. Another source of powerful stories is the book Hello From Heaven. You can learn more about that book here: http://www.after-death.com/ Blessings to all of you!
Friday, December 5, 2008
The First Christmas Without Jacob
The first year Jacob was not here for Christmas, we weren't sure what to do. Jacob had already said he wanted to go to Michigan where every other year my husband's family gathers. We weren't sure if Jacob would want to go to Michigan that year since he was a freshman at college and it was a time when he could be home with his friends, but he had made it very clear just a couple weeks before he died that he wanted to be with family and celebrate our "traditional" Christmas. Maybe it was for that reason we decided to stick with tradition, but it turned out to be the wrong thing to do, at least for my husband and me. Don't get me wrong, my husband's family tried to be sensitive, and the kids were especially great with the younger girl cousins coming up with a holiday cheer that included Jacob's name. The problem was that none of them had a clue how painful going through Christmas without Jacob was. How could they?
Christmas Eve was the absolute worst. I had no memory of this from past Christmas celebrations, but my husband said it was the way we had always done the gift exchange with his family--they started with the youngest of the kids and worked up to the oldest. The gaping hole that existed for my husband, my daughter and me when we skipped from the cousin who was a year younger than Jacob to the cousin who was a year older was enough to kill us. I was screaming inside, "How can you just ignore Jacob like that!!!!" Not even a mention of his name. I wanted to leave the room and vomit. Even though Grandpa had read a lovely poem before the gift opening started and then discussed briefly Jacob's absence, I cannot tell you how excruciating it was to go through that process and simply ignore Jacob's rightful place in the order of cousins. As I said, I didn't remember us doing that, so the process began to unfold before I even realized what was happening. In hindsight, I wish I had either gotten up and walked out or had asked them to PLEASE draw names or something other than by age. If we had drawn names, there never would have been the obvious moment when Jacob's turn would have arrived. The other possibility would have been to ask them to take the time that would have been Jacob's turn to allow the cousins to all share one memory of Jacob they will always cherish.
There was also the horrible miscommunication between my husband and me about attending the Christmas Eve church service. I thought we had agreed to remain behind when everyone else went to the church service in order to have some quiet family time away from all the craziness of 30+ family members gathered in one place. Before I knew it, people were rushing out the door to go to church. My daughter had already gone out and my husband had his jacket on. My head was spinning. I was completely confused and felt so uncomfortable speaking up in front of my husband's family, but the LAST thing I wanted to do was go to an unfamiliar church and sing Christmas songs. Just being in church was hard enough, but to sing songs when it was exactly three months to the hour since my son's death was more than I could fathom.
When we arrived at the church, I was relieved to see a pew open near the very back. I needed to know I could slip out without disturbing everyone else if it all got too hard, which was very likely. Just as I was about to slide into the pew, my husband took hold of my hand and lead me to the third or fourth pew from the front. I thought he had lost his mind. What was he doing? Why was he having us sit up front? The people on the ends didn't want to move in, so we had to crawl over people and sit in the middle. I literally thought I had died and gone to Hell. Even though the choir members had no idea who I was, because they were facing the congregation, it felt like every one of them had their eyes right on me.
During the service, it felt like I was losing my mind. I wanted to scream and cry out, "Where is Jacob? Why can't Jacob be here? How can you all be smiling?" My anger was raging inside of me, my pain was raging inside of me, and I had no way to release any of it. As we sang Silent Night by candlelight, I felt the freedom to cry, but it was just tears rolling down my cheeks, not the wailing that I needed to do at that moment.
When the service was finally over and we made our way out, I turned to my husband and asked, "How could you do that to me?" He was dumbfounded. He thought he was helping by separating me from the rest of the family and just having the two of us together. However, in that setting the family became the safety net amongst strangers. They were my buffer zone, so to speak. That wasn't how my husband saw it at all. He was trying to help and it completely backfired. From that moment on he didn't speak to me or even look at me. That's how it went the rest of our time with his family. Not one word was exchanged between us on Christmas Day. I would look at my husband, but he would never look in my direction or acknowledge me. If Christmas Eve was Hell, I don't even have a word to describe Christmas Day, 2006. Or the next day as we drove several hours in the car.
That's when I knew life was never going to be the same. For our family, Christmas was the most wonderful time of the year. We had enjoyed 18 glorious Christmas celebrations with Jacob and 16 with our daughter, but those days were gone, part of a sweet past that we could never have back again. At that point, I honestly wanted to give up and die. If not for my daughter, I think I would have.
Christmas Eve was the absolute worst. I had no memory of this from past Christmas celebrations, but my husband said it was the way we had always done the gift exchange with his family--they started with the youngest of the kids and worked up to the oldest. The gaping hole that existed for my husband, my daughter and me when we skipped from the cousin who was a year younger than Jacob to the cousin who was a year older was enough to kill us. I was screaming inside, "How can you just ignore Jacob like that!!!!" Not even a mention of his name. I wanted to leave the room and vomit. Even though Grandpa had read a lovely poem before the gift opening started and then discussed briefly Jacob's absence, I cannot tell you how excruciating it was to go through that process and simply ignore Jacob's rightful place in the order of cousins. As I said, I didn't remember us doing that, so the process began to unfold before I even realized what was happening. In hindsight, I wish I had either gotten up and walked out or had asked them to PLEASE draw names or something other than by age. If we had drawn names, there never would have been the obvious moment when Jacob's turn would have arrived. The other possibility would have been to ask them to take the time that would have been Jacob's turn to allow the cousins to all share one memory of Jacob they will always cherish.
There was also the horrible miscommunication between my husband and me about attending the Christmas Eve church service. I thought we had agreed to remain behind when everyone else went to the church service in order to have some quiet family time away from all the craziness of 30+ family members gathered in one place. Before I knew it, people were rushing out the door to go to church. My daughter had already gone out and my husband had his jacket on. My head was spinning. I was completely confused and felt so uncomfortable speaking up in front of my husband's family, but the LAST thing I wanted to do was go to an unfamiliar church and sing Christmas songs. Just being in church was hard enough, but to sing songs when it was exactly three months to the hour since my son's death was more than I could fathom.
When we arrived at the church, I was relieved to see a pew open near the very back. I needed to know I could slip out without disturbing everyone else if it all got too hard, which was very likely. Just as I was about to slide into the pew, my husband took hold of my hand and lead me to the third or fourth pew from the front. I thought he had lost his mind. What was he doing? Why was he having us sit up front? The people on the ends didn't want to move in, so we had to crawl over people and sit in the middle. I literally thought I had died and gone to Hell. Even though the choir members had no idea who I was, because they were facing the congregation, it felt like every one of them had their eyes right on me.
During the service, it felt like I was losing my mind. I wanted to scream and cry out, "Where is Jacob? Why can't Jacob be here? How can you all be smiling?" My anger was raging inside of me, my pain was raging inside of me, and I had no way to release any of it. As we sang Silent Night by candlelight, I felt the freedom to cry, but it was just tears rolling down my cheeks, not the wailing that I needed to do at that moment.
When the service was finally over and we made our way out, I turned to my husband and asked, "How could you do that to me?" He was dumbfounded. He thought he was helping by separating me from the rest of the family and just having the two of us together. However, in that setting the family became the safety net amongst strangers. They were my buffer zone, so to speak. That wasn't how my husband saw it at all. He was trying to help and it completely backfired. From that moment on he didn't speak to me or even look at me. That's how it went the rest of our time with his family. Not one word was exchanged between us on Christmas Day. I would look at my husband, but he would never look in my direction or acknowledge me. If Christmas Eve was Hell, I don't even have a word to describe Christmas Day, 2006. Or the next day as we drove several hours in the car.
That's when I knew life was never going to be the same. For our family, Christmas was the most wonderful time of the year. We had enjoyed 18 glorious Christmas celebrations with Jacob and 16 with our daughter, but those days were gone, part of a sweet past that we could never have back again. At that point, I honestly wanted to give up and die. If not for my daughter, I think I would have.
Maybe You Can Try Something New This Holiday Season
There is always the question that comes when special dates are approaching, "What do we do?" To ignore the date and let it pass can cause the one who is grieving to feel as though they have betrayed the loved one who is gone, and guilt will result, leading to a deeper grief. On the other hand, some might find it to painful to do any formal recognition of the date or event.
The holidays are different. Unlike a birthday or anniversary, the whole world knows when it is holiday time. The stores show signs of the approching holiday several weeks in advance. When it comes to tradition-filled holidays like Thanksgiving or Christmas (if you celebrate either one), it is important to have a plan in mind for what you are going to do. Some people want to hold onto the traditions because doing so helps them feel close to the one who is gone. Getting out the decorations for the holidays might begin a sweet, heart-warming trip down memory lane. While a few tears might come during that process, it can still be a very positive experience.
Another option is to start some new traditions. If doing the same thing (but without the loved one) is not an option, then this might be the approach to use. This might mean gathering at a new location or doing different activities. It might even mean taking a trip somewhere, unlike any you have done before. If tradition will only cause pain, it is better to try a new routine.
Then there is always the option to skip the holidays all together. For some, going through the motions just to please everyone else is more than they can bear. It's kind of hard to pretend it's just another day when on Thanksgiving or Christmas all the stores and even most restaurants are closed. However, if going out is not necessary anyway, it's possible to creat a feeling of "just another day" inside one's own house. Maybe getting away on a cruise is the answer, but chances are they will be playing holiday music and have holiday-themed activities.
For us, doing something entirely different was the answer. The 2nd Christmas without Jacob, I was able to decorate, but most of the decorations were new ones. I still couldn't bring out the handmade crafts from when the kids were younger or the familiar ornaments. Rather than stay home or be with extended family. We headed south and stayed in a condo in Florida near the beach. It turned out great.
One family we know was given tickets to a cruise for their first Christmas after their son died. The mom and dad and five kids set sail. For the kids, it was a fun diversion, but for the mother, it was a nightmare. All she wanted to do was get off the stupid boat and have her son back. She was a prisoner at sea. But another couple we know who lost their only child, a daughter, went on a cruise for Christmas, and it was very helpful for them. Being in an entirely different place made it feel less like Christmas, which made it better.
We each have to try our own thing based on what we know about ourselves and our situation. The choice we make may not end up being the right one or the best one, but that's how we learn. Sometimes the "wrong" choice can be devastating, and we need to be prepared for that as well. Our first Christmas was disastrous, but the second one was far better. We are about to face our third Christmas without Jacob and we've opted to repeat what we did last year, but there is no guarantee that what worked well last year will work well this year.
The holidays are different. Unlike a birthday or anniversary, the whole world knows when it is holiday time. The stores show signs of the approching holiday several weeks in advance. When it comes to tradition-filled holidays like Thanksgiving or Christmas (if you celebrate either one), it is important to have a plan in mind for what you are going to do. Some people want to hold onto the traditions because doing so helps them feel close to the one who is gone. Getting out the decorations for the holidays might begin a sweet, heart-warming trip down memory lane. While a few tears might come during that process, it can still be a very positive experience.
Another option is to start some new traditions. If doing the same thing (but without the loved one) is not an option, then this might be the approach to use. This might mean gathering at a new location or doing different activities. It might even mean taking a trip somewhere, unlike any you have done before. If tradition will only cause pain, it is better to try a new routine.
Then there is always the option to skip the holidays all together. For some, going through the motions just to please everyone else is more than they can bear. It's kind of hard to pretend it's just another day when on Thanksgiving or Christmas all the stores and even most restaurants are closed. However, if going out is not necessary anyway, it's possible to creat a feeling of "just another day" inside one's own house. Maybe getting away on a cruise is the answer, but chances are they will be playing holiday music and have holiday-themed activities.
For us, doing something entirely different was the answer. The 2nd Christmas without Jacob, I was able to decorate, but most of the decorations were new ones. I still couldn't bring out the handmade crafts from when the kids were younger or the familiar ornaments. Rather than stay home or be with extended family. We headed south and stayed in a condo in Florida near the beach. It turned out great.
One family we know was given tickets to a cruise for their first Christmas after their son died. The mom and dad and five kids set sail. For the kids, it was a fun diversion, but for the mother, it was a nightmare. All she wanted to do was get off the stupid boat and have her son back. She was a prisoner at sea. But another couple we know who lost their only child, a daughter, went on a cruise for Christmas, and it was very helpful for them. Being in an entirely different place made it feel less like Christmas, which made it better.
We each have to try our own thing based on what we know about ourselves and our situation. The choice we make may not end up being the right one or the best one, but that's how we learn. Sometimes the "wrong" choice can be devastating, and we need to be prepared for that as well. Our first Christmas was disastrous, but the second one was far better. We are about to face our third Christmas without Jacob and we've opted to repeat what we did last year, but there is no guarantee that what worked well last year will work well this year.
Thursday, December 4, 2008
A Funeral & Some Good Advice For Holiday Parties
Today I went to a funeral. As far as funerals go, this was a really nice one. Of course there were tears, but there was laughter and amazing music. My friend, Jo Dean, died this past Sunday, November 30, 2008. She had been duking it out with breast cancer for roughly 14 years. Cancer won the final match. Dang it all!!!! Actually, Jo Dean won. She's now in Heaven dancing with Jesus, not to mention Jacob. The rest of us? We are stuck here trying to make sense of a world that makes very little sense at all.
Jo Dean's voice that now is harmonizing with the angels, was lovely. She sang in the choir every Sunday that she could. In fact, the last time I saw her was 2 1/2 weeks ago, and she was sitting in the choir loft at church with her ever-present, beautiful smile. Each Christmas season, Jo Dean would sing in the local production of Handel's Messiah. Nearly 100 people from the various churches throughout our community would join together for this wonderful performance. This year, Jo Dean won't be there, but the choir came to her funeral and sang a number of the songs for the service, including the Hallelujah Chorus. When they started rocking and clapping to "Soon and Very Soon," I was nearly busting at the seams with joy. Jo Dean has seen the King!
Because I was attending Jo Dean's funeral, I missed the Christmas party for my weekly Grief Share group. This afternoon, one of my friends who also attends the group called and told me how great the party went. Wish I could have been there, but there was no way I was going to miss Jo Dean's funeral.
My friend shared with me some of the very practical advice that she got from the meeting today. Most of it came from a video that was produced specifically for grief during the holidays. I certainly don't want to steal their material, so I am first going to tell you where you can find some of the info from the DVD and the group that puts it out. http://griefshare.org/holidays/
What about those holiday party invitations? The last thing you need is to stress yourself out with social engagements or commitments, so what should you do? The advice given was to go through with the RSVP and thank the host for thinking of you and inviting you. Let the person know that you would like to attend, but ask if it would be okay to back out if you simply find yourself not up to it that particular day or evening. Most hosts will understand and graciously give you the option to not show if it's just too hard. When you RSVP, be sure to encourage the host to continue to include you in the social activities, but explain that it might be awhile before you are able to resume your social outings. Clearly state that even if you have to say no to the invites for several months or longer, that you still need that connection for when you really are ready to engage in that aspect of life again. Sometimes people stop inviting you because they don't want to pressure you, but if you ask them to still include you, then they know it's okay to be persistent.
With all that said, be honest with yourself when it comes to these holiday parties. Don't go and try to pretend to be happy when you are not. Being forced to put on the mask is no help at all, unless it helps you to get out and be with other people. For me, I felt miserable inside when my husband and I attended the first Christmas party roughly 10 weeks after Jacob's death. Yet it was good for me to get out and be with other people. I needed to be forced into social settings now and then. The smiles and laughter from me were genuine for the most part, and people knew to be sensitive. I didn't force myself upon anyone and make others feel uncomfortable (or at least I hope I didn't). You quickly learn the people who are at ease with those who are grieving and those who are not. Just stick with the ones who can handle being near your grief. The others will probably run away before you can get to them anyway.
Try not to resent the ones who just can't help you during the deepest part of your grief. They simply don't know what to say or how to act. I certainly had no clue what to say or do before I had gone through all of this, but even now I find myself ill-equipped at times. Just today, I found myself unable to say anything to Jo Dean's daughters. I didn't know them at all because they were grown and gone before I ever even knew Jo Dean. Nothing I could think of at the time seemed right. I ended up sitting down and writing something to them after the funeral instead.
Jo Dean's voice that now is harmonizing with the angels, was lovely. She sang in the choir every Sunday that she could. In fact, the last time I saw her was 2 1/2 weeks ago, and she was sitting in the choir loft at church with her ever-present, beautiful smile. Each Christmas season, Jo Dean would sing in the local production of Handel's Messiah. Nearly 100 people from the various churches throughout our community would join together for this wonderful performance. This year, Jo Dean won't be there, but the choir came to her funeral and sang a number of the songs for the service, including the Hallelujah Chorus. When they started rocking and clapping to "Soon and Very Soon," I was nearly busting at the seams with joy. Jo Dean has seen the King!
Because I was attending Jo Dean's funeral, I missed the Christmas party for my weekly Grief Share group. This afternoon, one of my friends who also attends the group called and told me how great the party went. Wish I could have been there, but there was no way I was going to miss Jo Dean's funeral.
My friend shared with me some of the very practical advice that she got from the meeting today. Most of it came from a video that was produced specifically for grief during the holidays. I certainly don't want to steal their material, so I am first going to tell you where you can find some of the info from the DVD and the group that puts it out. http://griefshare.org/holidays/
What about those holiday party invitations? The last thing you need is to stress yourself out with social engagements or commitments, so what should you do? The advice given was to go through with the RSVP and thank the host for thinking of you and inviting you. Let the person know that you would like to attend, but ask if it would be okay to back out if you simply find yourself not up to it that particular day or evening. Most hosts will understand and graciously give you the option to not show if it's just too hard. When you RSVP, be sure to encourage the host to continue to include you in the social activities, but explain that it might be awhile before you are able to resume your social outings. Clearly state that even if you have to say no to the invites for several months or longer, that you still need that connection for when you really are ready to engage in that aspect of life again. Sometimes people stop inviting you because they don't want to pressure you, but if you ask them to still include you, then they know it's okay to be persistent.
With all that said, be honest with yourself when it comes to these holiday parties. Don't go and try to pretend to be happy when you are not. Being forced to put on the mask is no help at all, unless it helps you to get out and be with other people. For me, I felt miserable inside when my husband and I attended the first Christmas party roughly 10 weeks after Jacob's death. Yet it was good for me to get out and be with other people. I needed to be forced into social settings now and then. The smiles and laughter from me were genuine for the most part, and people knew to be sensitive. I didn't force myself upon anyone and make others feel uncomfortable (or at least I hope I didn't). You quickly learn the people who are at ease with those who are grieving and those who are not. Just stick with the ones who can handle being near your grief. The others will probably run away before you can get to them anyway.
Try not to resent the ones who just can't help you during the deepest part of your grief. They simply don't know what to say or how to act. I certainly had no clue what to say or do before I had gone through all of this, but even now I find myself ill-equipped at times. Just today, I found myself unable to say anything to Jo Dean's daughters. I didn't know them at all because they were grown and gone before I ever even knew Jo Dean. Nothing I could think of at the time seemed right. I ended up sitting down and writing something to them after the funeral instead.
Unpredictable Emotions
As I spoke with my friend yesterday who had lost her nephew only hours earlier, she made a comment that she said her brother (the father of the young man who died) had made to her when they talked. She said, "I'm having a strong moment right now." Those words reflect the strange place in which you are suspended in the aftermath of a traumatic experience. There seems to be a near "out of body" feeling where you are standing outside yourself and observing that you are doing well. It seems out of body because you know in your head that you should be in a puddle on the ground given the circumstances. Yet, somehow, during these early days, we find that we are held together or held up at times by a force beyond ourselves. The reality is that we can swing from a strong moment to a total melt down within seconds. Suddenly, some new thought enters our minds like, "Oh my gosh, he won't be there at Christmas!" or "I'll never get to see him get married!" and we fall to pieces.
Varying emotions are to be expected. A numbness sets in that allows you to function on auto pilot for awhile, but even that numbness can only last so long. Each time the reality of what has happened hits you afresh, you might find yourself gasping audibly then crying uncontrollably. This kind of thing might go on for months. Even now, as I stand 2 years and 2 months after the death of Jacob, I still have moments that take my breath away because of the intensity of my inner response. Just last week I was in Target and happened to be within earshot of a display that was playing Christmas music. A song came on that Jacob used to love (and probably still does), making me fully aware of the fact that we are having to do Christmas without him again. Tears began to fill my eyes and I had to walk away from the music, the very music that used to fill me with pure joy.
Anger is a very real part of the range of emotions that might be experienced. For some, anger is an early response, for others it might not come until later. That anger might be toward the one who died, especially if the death was the result of suicide, risky behavior or a failure to live a healthier lifestyle. When death is the result of someone else's actions such as murder or drunk driving, the anger is naturally directed toward the perpetrator. Sometimes the anger is toward God or the universe for even allowing such a thing as death to occur.
To those around the grieving person, please refrain from judging the anger. It may seem irrational, but it is real, and the quicker it can be released, the better. Anger is poison to the soul. If it is forced to stay inside, it will only corrupt more of what's inside and grow. Providing a safe place for someone to release their anger is helpful. Remember, it doesn't have to make sense to you, so please don't say to the one who is grieving, "You shouldn't feel that way!" or "Stop talking like that!" Those words will only make the anger worse. Anger that is released is more likely to be diffused.
The first morning after Jacob's death, I remember being mad at the sun. How dare it come up and look so beautiful when my son was dead!! Don't the darn birds know there is nothing to be singing about now that Jacob has died? Is that rational? No, but it was how I felt. Even in the first few minutes, I was angry at the officer who told us Jacob was dead and the nurse who said Jacob had been dead too long to donate his organs. There was also the need to deal with my anger toward God for even allowing such a thing to happen to my son. Many times I cried out to God. I kicked and screamed and pounded on His chest by pounding on the bed. Every time I wrestled with God, the match would end peacefully. God would speak to my soul and comfort me. He would remind me of how much He loves Jacob, even MORE than I do. He would assure me that Jacob was right there with Him, forever safe where there was no more suffering. I could sense Him wrapping His arms around me and holding me, and my spirit was calm once more.
Our emotions are part of who we are, and we should respect them by giving them a safe place to be released. That might mean getting all alone and screaming at the top of your lungs. It might mean talking to a close friend who is not afraid to be there when you cry. Writing your thoughts down on paper might be helpful, even if it means writing so hard it tears the paper. In fact, that might be the most helpful way. Then, you might follow it up with tearing the paper to shreds. Maybe a good workout (think punching bag here) or a long walk or run would help. To be most effective, each of these physical activities should be done in conjunction with an emotional release like crying or yelling, so be mindful of where you are doing this. Please be responsible at the same time. Don't hurt the ones around you by directing your emotions at them, even if they were somewhat at fault. They are probably beating themselves up pretty badly as it is. Anger directed at people will only destroy relationships and create bitterness. Yes, release the anger, but in safe ways for yourself and the people around you.
Varying emotions are to be expected. A numbness sets in that allows you to function on auto pilot for awhile, but even that numbness can only last so long. Each time the reality of what has happened hits you afresh, you might find yourself gasping audibly then crying uncontrollably. This kind of thing might go on for months. Even now, as I stand 2 years and 2 months after the death of Jacob, I still have moments that take my breath away because of the intensity of my inner response. Just last week I was in Target and happened to be within earshot of a display that was playing Christmas music. A song came on that Jacob used to love (and probably still does), making me fully aware of the fact that we are having to do Christmas without him again. Tears began to fill my eyes and I had to walk away from the music, the very music that used to fill me with pure joy.
Anger is a very real part of the range of emotions that might be experienced. For some, anger is an early response, for others it might not come until later. That anger might be toward the one who died, especially if the death was the result of suicide, risky behavior or a failure to live a healthier lifestyle. When death is the result of someone else's actions such as murder or drunk driving, the anger is naturally directed toward the perpetrator. Sometimes the anger is toward God or the universe for even allowing such a thing as death to occur.
To those around the grieving person, please refrain from judging the anger. It may seem irrational, but it is real, and the quicker it can be released, the better. Anger is poison to the soul. If it is forced to stay inside, it will only corrupt more of what's inside and grow. Providing a safe place for someone to release their anger is helpful. Remember, it doesn't have to make sense to you, so please don't say to the one who is grieving, "You shouldn't feel that way!" or "Stop talking like that!" Those words will only make the anger worse. Anger that is released is more likely to be diffused.
The first morning after Jacob's death, I remember being mad at the sun. How dare it come up and look so beautiful when my son was dead!! Don't the darn birds know there is nothing to be singing about now that Jacob has died? Is that rational? No, but it was how I felt. Even in the first few minutes, I was angry at the officer who told us Jacob was dead and the nurse who said Jacob had been dead too long to donate his organs. There was also the need to deal with my anger toward God for even allowing such a thing to happen to my son. Many times I cried out to God. I kicked and screamed and pounded on His chest by pounding on the bed. Every time I wrestled with God, the match would end peacefully. God would speak to my soul and comfort me. He would remind me of how much He loves Jacob, even MORE than I do. He would assure me that Jacob was right there with Him, forever safe where there was no more suffering. I could sense Him wrapping His arms around me and holding me, and my spirit was calm once more.
Our emotions are part of who we are, and we should respect them by giving them a safe place to be released. That might mean getting all alone and screaming at the top of your lungs. It might mean talking to a close friend who is not afraid to be there when you cry. Writing your thoughts down on paper might be helpful, even if it means writing so hard it tears the paper. In fact, that might be the most helpful way. Then, you might follow it up with tearing the paper to shreds. Maybe a good workout (think punching bag here) or a long walk or run would help. To be most effective, each of these physical activities should be done in conjunction with an emotional release like crying or yelling, so be mindful of where you are doing this. Please be responsible at the same time. Don't hurt the ones around you by directing your emotions at them, even if they were somewhat at fault. They are probably beating themselves up pretty badly as it is. Anger directed at people will only destroy relationships and create bitterness. Yes, release the anger, but in safe ways for yourself and the people around you.
Here are a couple of places I just found after doing a quick search on healthy ways to release anger: http://www.soundfeelings.com/free/anger.htm You'll have to scroll down the page to get past the ads before you find the helpful tips. http://tinyurl.com/5ez8bv and http://www.apa.org/topics/controlanger.html offer helpful advice.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Accidental Drug Overdose
Just minutes after posting today's blog, my phone rang, and it was my best friend from high school. She was calling to give me some very sad news. Her nephew just died only a few hours ago from an accidental drug overdose. He was in his mid 20's. We both agreed it was accidental because he had just spoken with his grandfather this morning about plans they had for this Friday. He had not given any indication of wanting his life to be over. My heart is so heavy for this entire family. I am all too familiar with the horror of the sudden shock of learning your child has died. May God comfort them in a powerful way today and in the weeks, months and years to come. To return to day one of this journey is more than my heart and mind can grasp.
As soon as I hung up, I said a prayer. My friend who had called was about to tell her young son about his cousin's death. Her son had just come in the door from school. After praying for my friend, her son as he heard the news, as well as the various family members who were all finding their lives turned upside down today, I called another friend of mine. She too had lost a son to an accidental drug overdose while in his early 20's. The death of her handsome, wonderful son was nearly 4 years ago. We talked about her Thanksgiving and how it went, the fourth one without her son. She said the day was rather uneventful, unlike the normal way they used to spend Thanksgiving when the family was whole. They used to have a low country boil and play football at the beach. After her son died, they couldn't imagine playing football without him being there. It all sounded very familiar. We used to go to the North Carolina mountains, hike the trails, visit the local toy store and a special antiques shop to laugh at a certain chair that was always there year after year, catch a movie in Asheville, and finally, cut down our Christmas tree to bring back home. We haven't been able to do that since Jacob died. To do the same thing, only without Jacob, would mean way too much pain.
As I considered the loss my dear friend's family had just experienced today, I knew I had to add a link that would deal specifically with accidental drug overdoses. They are far too common, but a specific area of grief I had not included in my post today. There are many other areas I've overlooked as well, but my goal was to offer links to places that provided support and encouragment to some of the general grief categories. For those who are suffering the loss of a loved one to an accidental drug overdose, here is a place to begin http://tinyurl.com/56xdkb. I was also impressed with a website where family or friends of those who have died from drug-related causes can post memorials. Creating and maintaining Jacob's memorial website has been a source a great comfort and a positive way to work through my grief. Perhaps it will be good therapy for you as well. Here is where you can create a memorial http://www.drugfree.org/Memorials/. May you find special peace beyond all understanding this holiday season.
As soon as I hung up, I said a prayer. My friend who had called was about to tell her young son about his cousin's death. Her son had just come in the door from school. After praying for my friend, her son as he heard the news, as well as the various family members who were all finding their lives turned upside down today, I called another friend of mine. She too had lost a son to an accidental drug overdose while in his early 20's. The death of her handsome, wonderful son was nearly 4 years ago. We talked about her Thanksgiving and how it went, the fourth one without her son. She said the day was rather uneventful, unlike the normal way they used to spend Thanksgiving when the family was whole. They used to have a low country boil and play football at the beach. After her son died, they couldn't imagine playing football without him being there. It all sounded very familiar. We used to go to the North Carolina mountains, hike the trails, visit the local toy store and a special antiques shop to laugh at a certain chair that was always there year after year, catch a movie in Asheville, and finally, cut down our Christmas tree to bring back home. We haven't been able to do that since Jacob died. To do the same thing, only without Jacob, would mean way too much pain.
As I considered the loss my dear friend's family had just experienced today, I knew I had to add a link that would deal specifically with accidental drug overdoses. They are far too common, but a specific area of grief I had not included in my post today. There are many other areas I've overlooked as well, but my goal was to offer links to places that provided support and encouragment to some of the general grief categories. For those who are suffering the loss of a loved one to an accidental drug overdose, here is a place to begin http://tinyurl.com/56xdkb. I was also impressed with a website where family or friends of those who have died from drug-related causes can post memorials. Creating and maintaining Jacob's memorial website has been a source a great comfort and a positive way to work through my grief. Perhaps it will be good therapy for you as well. Here is where you can create a memorial http://www.drugfree.org/Memorials/. May you find special peace beyond all understanding this holiday season.
Grief and the Holidays
The holiday season is here, and along with it comes the greatest joy and the greatest sorrow. Before losing my son, Thanksgiving and Christmas were the most wonderful holidays, closely followed by the excitement and hope of a new year. The traditions brought joy and comfort along with warm memories. The music alone could take me to a magical place in my mind and spirit. No time of year was ever more filled with anticipation and joy than the holiday season.
All of that changed drastically in the fall of 2006, when my one and only son died as a result of a car accident. For someone who has recently experienced the death of a dearly loved one or has suffered a great loss of some sort (the loss of a job or the end of a relationship), the holidays quickly become a time of year that is filled with great pain and sorrow. The fact that so many others are reveling in the excitement of the holidays only exacerbates the misery of those who are grieving. Those first trips to stores filled with holiday decorations hurt so much because they serve as reminders of all that you no longer have.
Two of my worst experiences with this took place at a Hallmark store. The first was while I was standing in line to check out. First, a song began playing that was a favorite for our family during the holidays. I could feel my heart quicken and my breathing changed. Emotions and memories began swirling around inside of me. Then a woman in line for the other cash register began talking to the cashier about her adult daughter's very serious car accident. She described what happened to the vehicle and the injuries her daughter sustained. I felt deep compassion for this woman, but I wanted her to stop talking. She appeared to be well-equipped to help her daughter through her healing process which made me thankful, but the bluntness of her description was too much. Deep inside of me were screams: "Stop telling the details!" "I've got to get out of here!" "Be quiet, lady!" "Why do I have to be listening to this?" "Why must you tell this story out loud for everyone to hear?" "My son died! I can't hear about your daughter who survived!" My thoughts were selfish and unfair because this woman was grieving too, but I simply could not bear to hear anymore.
The second experience involved an employee who was on the phone with her child. In full volume, she was berating another one of her children for not cleaning up the house. She was telling one child to relay threatening statements to the other child. "You better tell her that if she doesn't get that stuff picked up, she is gonna get it from me when I get home. She can kiss the car goodbye! I can't stand her and her attitude!" (I wonder where the daughter got it from?) My stomach began churning as I heard this conversation play out. The irony of it all? I was at the store to buy cards for three other parents who had also lost children. The desire within me to go up and give this woman a piece of my mind was so strong I began trembling. Once again I found myself screaming inside, "Don't you know how blessed you are to have your child? What if something happened to your child, and those were the last words she heard from you? Who gives a ____ about the condition of your house! Your child and the relationship you have with your child are FAR more important than the appearance of your house!"
Holidays are a time when relationships, especially close family relationships, become a central focus. After all, it is with our family that we celebrate most of these holidays. For the one who is now without a beloved family member or significant other, the loss is magnified. The hole left be the absence of a loved one becomes so huge during the holidays, it can engulf the one who is grieving. The hole becomes an emotional blackhole that sucks away all hope and joy. Only someone who has been through this experience can begin to grasp the depth and reality of this painful time.
The holidays become something very different in the shadow of a significant loss. If you are the one who has experienced the loss, don't expect much of yourself. Don't worry about trying to be your same old self for everyone else. Granted, they won't like that you are not yourself, but whether or not you are causing them discomfort doesn't need to be your concern. Now is the time to take care of YOU! It's OK to be a little selfish as you cope with the pain.
If you are a person who is going to be spending time with the one who is grieving deeply, be patient. This is all new territory for that person. DO allow them to grieve however necessary. DON'T tell them not to cry. Crying is important and helpful. It releases toxins and stress. DO be willing to talk about the one who has died if the grieving person needs to do that. DON'T avoid the topic!! Ask the person if they want to talk or not. Maybe it makes you a bit uncomfortable to talk about the person who died and you don't like to see the other person crying, but so what. Right now, it is NOT about you. It is about the one who is experiencing fresh and intense grief.
Some other ways people can help is offer to do some gift shopping for the one who is grieving, or offer to take the person with you. Just be ready to leave the store quickly if the person becomes overwhelmed. DON'T suggest to keep going because you think it will be better for them. Remember, this isn't about YOU. Perhaps a group of people can offer to decorate the home for the holidays, but realize that the old familiar decorations might be too painful for them to see right now. You could offer to get a few simple decorations that are new to them--either some that you or other friends aren't using this year or new ones from the store.
To help yourself get through this time, or to help someone you care about make it through, I will reference some sources of help that I mentioned in the last blog and add some new ones. A repeat from the earlier blog are: http://tinyurl.com/5u3xxy, http://tinyurl.com/6cwsz7, and http://tinyurl.com/5k9ssd. You will want to check these out to see specifically how they apply since some are better suited to those who've lost children or who are of the Christian faith.
Here are some others: http://tinyurl.com/6a4ya8 is a wonderful site for those who are experiencing grief due to a suicide. This site was started by a mother of a young man who committed suicide in his 20's. http://tinyurl.com/64mdfb is a website that deals with a variety of losses. The website is currently undergoing some changes, but you can still find most of the information that would be helpful. http://www.hygeiafoundation.org/, is geared toward people who have lost a child due to miscarriage, stillbirth or infant death. http://goodgrief.org/, the website for The Shiva Foundation also offers a variety of practical advice for those who are grieving. Remember, however that you don't have to be the one grieving to gain something from these sites. They shed tremendous light on the subject of grief for those who desire to help others who are grieving. If that's you, bless you! This world needs more people like you who want to help, even if it means you will hurt more too. We are called to carry one another's burdens, so let's do that.
All of that changed drastically in the fall of 2006, when my one and only son died as a result of a car accident. For someone who has recently experienced the death of a dearly loved one or has suffered a great loss of some sort (the loss of a job or the end of a relationship), the holidays quickly become a time of year that is filled with great pain and sorrow. The fact that so many others are reveling in the excitement of the holidays only exacerbates the misery of those who are grieving. Those first trips to stores filled with holiday decorations hurt so much because they serve as reminders of all that you no longer have.
Two of my worst experiences with this took place at a Hallmark store. The first was while I was standing in line to check out. First, a song began playing that was a favorite for our family during the holidays. I could feel my heart quicken and my breathing changed. Emotions and memories began swirling around inside of me. Then a woman in line for the other cash register began talking to the cashier about her adult daughter's very serious car accident. She described what happened to the vehicle and the injuries her daughter sustained. I felt deep compassion for this woman, but I wanted her to stop talking. She appeared to be well-equipped to help her daughter through her healing process which made me thankful, but the bluntness of her description was too much. Deep inside of me were screams: "Stop telling the details!" "I've got to get out of here!" "Be quiet, lady!" "Why do I have to be listening to this?" "Why must you tell this story out loud for everyone to hear?" "My son died! I can't hear about your daughter who survived!" My thoughts were selfish and unfair because this woman was grieving too, but I simply could not bear to hear anymore.
The second experience involved an employee who was on the phone with her child. In full volume, she was berating another one of her children for not cleaning up the house. She was telling one child to relay threatening statements to the other child. "You better tell her that if she doesn't get that stuff picked up, she is gonna get it from me when I get home. She can kiss the car goodbye! I can't stand her and her attitude!" (I wonder where the daughter got it from?) My stomach began churning as I heard this conversation play out. The irony of it all? I was at the store to buy cards for three other parents who had also lost children. The desire within me to go up and give this woman a piece of my mind was so strong I began trembling. Once again I found myself screaming inside, "Don't you know how blessed you are to have your child? What if something happened to your child, and those were the last words she heard from you? Who gives a ____ about the condition of your house! Your child and the relationship you have with your child are FAR more important than the appearance of your house!"
Holidays are a time when relationships, especially close family relationships, become a central focus. After all, it is with our family that we celebrate most of these holidays. For the one who is now without a beloved family member or significant other, the loss is magnified. The hole left be the absence of a loved one becomes so huge during the holidays, it can engulf the one who is grieving. The hole becomes an emotional blackhole that sucks away all hope and joy. Only someone who has been through this experience can begin to grasp the depth and reality of this painful time.
The holidays become something very different in the shadow of a significant loss. If you are the one who has experienced the loss, don't expect much of yourself. Don't worry about trying to be your same old self for everyone else. Granted, they won't like that you are not yourself, but whether or not you are causing them discomfort doesn't need to be your concern. Now is the time to take care of YOU! It's OK to be a little selfish as you cope with the pain.
If you are a person who is going to be spending time with the one who is grieving deeply, be patient. This is all new territory for that person. DO allow them to grieve however necessary. DON'T tell them not to cry. Crying is important and helpful. It releases toxins and stress. DO be willing to talk about the one who has died if the grieving person needs to do that. DON'T avoid the topic!! Ask the person if they want to talk or not. Maybe it makes you a bit uncomfortable to talk about the person who died and you don't like to see the other person crying, but so what. Right now, it is NOT about you. It is about the one who is experiencing fresh and intense grief.
Some other ways people can help is offer to do some gift shopping for the one who is grieving, or offer to take the person with you. Just be ready to leave the store quickly if the person becomes overwhelmed. DON'T suggest to keep going because you think it will be better for them. Remember, this isn't about YOU. Perhaps a group of people can offer to decorate the home for the holidays, but realize that the old familiar decorations might be too painful for them to see right now. You could offer to get a few simple decorations that are new to them--either some that you or other friends aren't using this year or new ones from the store.
To help yourself get through this time, or to help someone you care about make it through, I will reference some sources of help that I mentioned in the last blog and add some new ones. A repeat from the earlier blog are: http://tinyurl.com/5u3xxy, http://tinyurl.com/6cwsz7, and http://tinyurl.com/5k9ssd. You will want to check these out to see specifically how they apply since some are better suited to those who've lost children or who are of the Christian faith.
Here are some others: http://tinyurl.com/6a4ya8 is a wonderful site for those who are experiencing grief due to a suicide. This site was started by a mother of a young man who committed suicide in his 20's. http://tinyurl.com/64mdfb is a website that deals with a variety of losses. The website is currently undergoing some changes, but you can still find most of the information that would be helpful. http://www.hygeiafoundation.org/, is geared toward people who have lost a child due to miscarriage, stillbirth or infant death. http://goodgrief.org/, the website for The Shiva Foundation also offers a variety of practical advice for those who are grieving. Remember, however that you don't have to be the one grieving to gain something from these sites. They shed tremendous light on the subject of grief for those who desire to help others who are grieving. If that's you, bless you! This world needs more people like you who want to help, even if it means you will hurt more too. We are called to carry one another's burdens, so let's do that.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Coming Back!
If you checked the dates on the blogposts prior to this one, you saw that the last time I wrote anything here was almost 1 1/2 years ago. Why so long between posts? I began to feel that what I had to say really didn't make a difference--that it was a foolish attempt to try to make something good out of something bad. Who was going to read it anyway? My decision was to stick with a personal journal instead.
So why come back to it now?
I've come to realize that blogging REALLY IS a way to reach out and help other people. And if there was ever a group of people who needed to be reached out to, it would be parents who have lost a child and the people around them. So, I've decided to return to the blogging medium with a new vision and purpose. With a slightly better understanding of how to reach other people through blogging, I hope I can make a difference and help someone else.
Having read numerous books and visited untold websites, I will use this blog to share with others some of the best reading materials to help those who are grieving the loss of someone they love, but especially if that one is a child. I will offer links to some of the best places on the internet to find help and encouragement. My hope is that this blog will be the place where people come to get reliable, trustworthy and solid advice when it comes to dealing with one of the greatest tragedies ever imagined, the death of a child.
Here is a quick link to help people who are grieving make it through the holiday season http://www.griefshare.org/holidays/reasontocelebrate/. This comes from a Christian perspective, so if that would be offensive to you, this may not be the website for you to visit. Perhaps a better source for you would be http://tinyurl.com/5u3xxy
If you are the friend of someone who has recently lost a child and you'd like to help them get through this holiday season, please read this wonderful advice from Compassionate Friends: http://compassionatefriends.net/Press_Releases/press_release_12503.pdf
So why come back to it now?
I've come to realize that blogging REALLY IS a way to reach out and help other people. And if there was ever a group of people who needed to be reached out to, it would be parents who have lost a child and the people around them. So, I've decided to return to the blogging medium with a new vision and purpose. With a slightly better understanding of how to reach other people through blogging, I hope I can make a difference and help someone else.
Having read numerous books and visited untold websites, I will use this blog to share with others some of the best reading materials to help those who are grieving the loss of someone they love, but especially if that one is a child. I will offer links to some of the best places on the internet to find help and encouragement. My hope is that this blog will be the place where people come to get reliable, trustworthy and solid advice when it comes to dealing with one of the greatest tragedies ever imagined, the death of a child.
Here is a quick link to help people who are grieving make it through the holiday season http://www.griefshare.org/holidays/reasontocelebrate/. This comes from a Christian perspective, so if that would be offensive to you, this may not be the website for you to visit. Perhaps a better source for you would be http://tinyurl.com/5u3xxy
If you are the friend of someone who has recently lost a child and you'd like to help them get through this holiday season, please read this wonderful advice from Compassionate Friends: http://compassionatefriends.net/Press_Releases/press_release_12503.pdf
Those links will at least get you started.
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