grief digest v11i01

A Centering Corporation Resource

Grief Digest Quarterly Magazine Volume 11, Issue #1

summer 2013

“We are all mirrors unto one another. Look into me and you will find something of

yourself as I will of you.”

— Walter Rinder

Book Review by Janet Sieff, Centering Corporation

Holding Onto LoveSearching for Hope When a Child Dies

By Chuck Collins

In his book, Holding Onto Love, Chuck Collins writes from the heart. You can feel his kind words easing the pain just a little bit as you read this book. He writes from his personal experience as a bereaved father. Chuck addresses all the issues, obstacles, emotions, family matters and working situations bereaved fathers, and bereaved families, will be challenged with.

The book takes you from the beginning of the death of your child all the way to several years later. Chuck guides newly bereaved parents through the dreaded tasks of planning a funeral and finding a support system to get you through the time that you are emotionally unprepared for. Because he has been there, Chuck is able to use his story to support bereaved parents and families on the journey through the death of their child, knowing they have a friend out their to guide them.

Chapters include: Dealing with the First Moments of Loss, Anger and Parental Guilt, Visiting the Gravesite, The Stigma of a Child’s Death, Siblings, Sources of Comfort. As a former police officer and lawyer, Chuck offers information about investigations, Civil Litigation and Pending Criminal Prosecutions.

In Chapter 13, Chuck writes about remembering your child. There is no way for a bereaved parent to forget the date of their child’s death. It is a day that is engrained in the soul of every bereaved parent. Chuck offers advice for the date of loss, birthdays, Mothers Day and Fathers Day, Memorial Day and all other major holidays. He offers suggestion on how to include siblings to honor and remember the child that died.

One of the final chapters is for family and friends. It contains practical and useful information on how others can support bereaved parents during this complicated grief. Chuck emphasizes that there is no timetable for grieving parents. Grieving parents need support weeks, months and for years to come. He gently reminds readers what not to say to grieving parents. This is a good chapter to have open when well-meaning family and friends stop by offer their support. It’s hard to believe that some people may still try to help by telling a bereaved parent “they can have other children.” However, people still use this line to try to comfort or get the bereaved families to “replace” the child that they have lost.

One of the unique offerings of this book is a Comfort Checklist for Family and Friends in the back of the book. It is an excellent set of lists for immediately after the death, the funeral process, the first month, the first year, going back to work and more. This is followed by examples of how other parents have memorialized their children in positive ways, such as organizing remembrance walks and creating scholarships.

Chuck openly admits he does not accept his daughter Tiffianie’s death, however, he does bring hope to bereaved parents by offering them optimism that the deep pain will eventually subside and a softening of the longing for your child will lessen. And in closing the book states: “As we continue life’s journey along our own grief path, we do so having discovered the most vital key to our survival. As long as we hold onto our children’s love, they will never be far away.”

Holding Onto Love is a “must read” for grieving families and their loved ones.

Book review by Janet Sieff, Executive Director, Centering Corporation, www.centering.org

Holding Onto Love can be ordered through our website or by calling 866-218-0101.

Also printed in, We Need Not Walk Alone, TCF newsletter. July, 2013.

Featured articles . . . . . . . . . 3-25

Things I’ve Learned...By Daina Simpson Mahon 3

I Sent You A Kiss Today By Darcie Sims 4-5

All I Want For Christmas is “For it to be over with” By Nan Zastrow 6-8

Sharing My Love for Peggy and Denis By Elaine Stillwell 12-13

Grief In The Workplace By Jan Borgman 14-15

Getting A Handle On It By Jackie Bates 16-17

Tentativeness By Paul Moon 18-19

The Autumn Season of Life By Linda Triplett 20

Even in Grief, You Have the Power of One By Harriet Hodgson 23

Greeting Card From God By Amy Lyon 24-25

Contributor’s Info and REsources 30-36

A Note from the editor

What gives this magazine its heart and soul are the contributions of the people who know the path of pain. Your stories and experiences and insights bring hope and encouragement to others who may be just beginning their journey into the world of grief. We encourage you to write and share. Write from your heart about what you know because you’ve been there! We like to keep the stories about 1200 words (but we are flexible), and we prefer that you use first person (I, me) rather than (“you should…”) etc. Send your contributions via email (preferred) or snail mail (acceptable) to Janet at [email protected] or mail to PO Box 4600, Omaha, NE 68104. We’ll ask you to read and sign our writers’ guidelines (our permission to print) and we’ll need a recent photo of you and a one- or two-paragraph bio about you. If your material is published, you’ll receive complimentary copies of that issue, and we offer you a full page in that issue to promote whatever resource you’d like to share with our readers. Happy writing!

[email protected]

Help Centering help grievers you know...with this affiliate program,

you gain commissions without the trouble of keeping inventory, processing orders, or shipping packages.

It’s a free program open to all kinds of web sites.

For more info or to sign up, visit www.centering.org/affiliate

The Best Gifts are Never WrappedBy Joy Johnson, Founder, Centering Corporation

It had been one of those truly terrible really bad, horrible, awful days. Marv, my sweetie of nearly forty years had gotten bad news when the doctors had tried to dilate his esophagus that had been beaten and battered with cancer and radiation.

We put our foreheads together in the recovery room and cried. We sobbed. It was worrisome, bad news.We went back to our hospital room for one more night at the med center. I stretched out my chair-bed and pushed it as close to his hospital bed as it would go. It was quiet, and while Marv drifted off into a deep, relaxing sleep, I stayed awake. I couldn’t sleep. My whole body was restless.

Our care tech was a black man from South Africa named George. He had one of the most beautiful accents that are musical when he talks and he came tip-toeing into the room at 3am to take Marv’s vitals. He was trying to be so quiet. I said, “You’re dark George, but you’re not THAT dark. I can see you.” We laughed.

He checked Marv, then I said, “George, can you put Marv’s bedrail down so we can hold hands?”

“Certainly!” he smiled. “How long have you two been together?”

“Nearly forty years,” I answered. “We have not only been together, we worked together 24 hours a day. We founded a grief resource center called, Centering Corporation.”

He looked at me. “I have been there!” He looked closer. “You were the lady who helped me.”George had experienced a lot of grief. He had immigrated to America and his immigration status wouldn’t allow him to go back to South Africa when one month his mother died, the next month his sister died and the third month his daughter died.

“I do not know where they lay,” he said. “But I came to Centering Corporation. I got six books from you and you advised me to go to The Compassionate Friends where I would meet other parents. I did and I was humbled by the grief of others. One family lost three children. I do not know how they could go on after three children had died.”

We talked.

George can visit South Africa next year and find the graves of his mother sister and daughter.But the gift had no wrapping came as he was leaving the room. He turned, looked at me in my chair-bed, holding Marv’s hand. Softly he said, “You have made my grief be easier.” You have made my grief be easier.

That’s what you do and what we do. And when someone thinks or says those seven little words, we are given a wonderful, touching gift. We have made grief be easier. I relaxed. I slept. George had made my grief be easier too. Joy

Things I’ve Learned…Since the death of my child September 25, 2006

By Daina Simpson Mahon

• I’ve learned there really is rebirth after death…emotionally, physically, and spiritually for parents who are left behind when their child is absent.

• I’ve learned Christ really does offer new life even when you feel like your soul died with your child.

• I’ve learned no one, not even loved ones who also experienced the death of your child truly knows what you feel, are going through, nor understands the depth of your pain. Each has a unique grief experience an experience raised out of a unique bond with your child. Only you who bore or created your child’s life, and only you, understand the blend of suffering that that bond and creation designs.

• I’ve learned to “own” my feelings and who I have become. While friends and family do not feel comfortable with my grief expressions or new persona, it is acceptable to me. I understand and accept myself and my path. I did not choose it, but I must walk it in ownership.

• I’ve learned it is not my responsibility to assure well-meaning individuals that I still have a walk with Jesus though I may be unresponsive to them as I trudge through this storm. Jesus knows. That’s all that matters.

• I’ve learned to allow others to grieve their losses in their own ways too. Most of us suffer losses through a myriad of life experiences such as divorce, loss of jobs, death of a pet, or the failure of a dream or goal. These too are real losses and must be grieved. Pain is felt. Pain must be allowed though the loss seems on a lesser continuum to one who has experienced the ultimate loss of a child.

• I’ve learned teenagers can be far more compassionate than we often give them credit for being. In my experience, most of my students step out of their discomfort when I am openly and honestly expressing my grief or sharing memories of my daughter. Young people more often express sympathy, compassion, and consolation whereas many adults seem incapable or too reticent to respond for fear of possibly responding incorrectly. So, they change the subject. I then feel dismissed and my daughter and her memory are also dismissed.

• I’ve learned to embrace the reality that my child still matters. Her death did not erase her contributions, exuberance, sorrows, gifts of joy, nor her talents. These facets of Devin live in my heart, in the hearts of others who shared her life, and in the spirit God gave her when He gave her life. • I’ve learned with a new passion that God will restore her life when He returns because she rests in Him.

What have you learned in your walk? You matter. Your knowledge may save someone else.

©Grief Digest Magazine–www.griefdigestmagazine.com

–4–

I SENT YOU A KISS TODAY

10/2/13 LOREM IPSUMDOLOR SIT AMET 8:30 P.M.

Magna aliquam ut enim ad minim veniam quis nostrud. Exercrure dolor in reprehend incididunt. Ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud. Aenean iaculis laoreet curabitur viverra.

date location time

Darcie D. Sims

I sent you a kiss today. Did you get it? I sent it by air mail. I kissed my fingers and then opened them to the breeze and watched it go. I tucked in some hugs and well wishes, too. Did you get them?

Volume 10, issue #2–Phone: 1-866-218-0101

–5–

I thought of you today. Did you know that? Could you feel my arms around you? My thoughts caressing your shoulders, my mind trying to reach yours. I spoke to you today. Did you hear me? I spoke to you of everyday things. I talked about how the clouds moved across the sky, sending shadows whisking over the lawn that I had just raked. I told you how pretty it looked as the leaves swirled gently in the breeze. Do you remember the times we lay together in the grass and just watched the clouds make shapes in the sky? I told you about my remembering that today, too. I talked to you about how the sun sparkles on the water in the pond and how the wind chime has the loveliest tones. I wonder if you can hear them. I told you about my day, the mundane little things that kept me busy. I ironed and dusted and vacuumed and moved some things around…mostly just re-arranging things. I cleaned the blinds and polished the silver…just regular things - nothing special, except I thought of you as I did them. I told you about my Big Project and how far it seems to the end. I keep thinking of new ways to get it finished and that just makes the whole thing take longer…but of course, you know that about me, don’t you? I watched you today. Did you see me, too? I watched a puppy scamper across the yard, tugging its young owner. I watched a brand new driver trying to fit into a parallel parking space and I laughed, remembering. Do you remember things? I saw an old lady and an even older man holding hands as they crossed the street and the look they shared reminded me of us. That secret sharing of something just between them…I missed you today. Do you miss me? I planned the menu for the family dinner today and I asked you what you wanted. Do you still like mashed potatoes and butter, green bean casserole and cranberry relish? I baked two pies and saved some dough for you, so you could pat it out and fill it with strawberry jam and then bake it, making a little “patty pan pie” just for you. Do you still do that, sometimes? I counted the chairs and called a neighbor because I have to borrow 2 more. Or I guess two people could stand or maybe they won’t come. I washed 3 loads of laundry and ironed the tablecloth and put the napkin

rings out. I wished you were here to help, like you used to. You always put the napkins in the rings just so and made them look so special. I wore your sweater today. I hope you don’t mind. It turned cool and the breeze turned into a wind and I had to take the wind chime in. The last bits of summer are gone now, packed away until the next time around. I found your blanket today, tucked way down in the cedar chest. I was looking for the afghan to put over the back of the rocking chair and there it was…waiting for me. So I hugged it and wrapped myself in it like you used to do. It was only for a moment, but I thought I heard you in the next room so I went to look. It was only the timer on the dryer downstairs. But, for a moment, I thought it was you. I saw you today…in a hundred places in the house, the yard, across the street, waiting in line at the bank and walking just ahead of me at the grocery store. Why didn’t you turn around? Didn’t you know I was there? I sang to you today. I’m still not very good, but the choirmaster says I am “enthusiastic”. Maybe it will be my ticket of admission…enthusiasm should be worth something somewhere. I dreamed of you today and for just a little while, we were one again. Hand in hand, arm in arm; head to head, heart to heart, lives wrapped around and through each other, like two peas in a pod, two puppies in a basket, two people in love. I haven’t stopped loving you…have you stopped loving me? I hope not. I’ll be ok. I am ok. It’s just that sometimes, I want you here, right here with me, not just in my thoughts, my dreams, my prayers, my me. I want you here…. And then, you are. I only have to touch my heart to feel yours beating. I only have to whisper your name to hear mine spoken. I only have to count my blessings, count the moments we had, to know I am rich beyond any man’s measure. We were and still are and that’s all I need. It wasn’t enough and it will never be enough, but it was something and for that, I am forever thankful…today, tomorrow and always. I sent you a kiss today…and you sent one back. Thanks…for the little while.


–6–

All I Want for Christmas is “FOR IT TO BE OVER WITH”

By Nan [email protected]

“I just want this holiday to be over with.” That was my mantra months before our very first Christmas after the death of our son, Chad. I repeated it over and over again as though magically, I wouldn’t have to deal with its coming. I believed nothing could ever be the same…how could I pretend or exist in this world forever changed by death?


–7–

Although holidays aren’t limited to Christmas, for the bereaved, Christmas is often one of the most difficult. Any special day that once offered celebration, gathering, or commemoration such as a birthday, or special event such as a wedding or baptism can create anxiety. Holidays were a “big deal” in our family. It was all about gathering, celebrating and strong family ties. Chad’s death was the first major event that significantly altered our holiday traditions.

I understand the objections the bereaved feel with the imminent holidays. Even though it’s been a long time, I still feel the tug of some of those “if onlys” as though they were new. It took me several years to adjust to change that wasn’t welcome. But I’ve come to know the “good news” and appreciate holiday celebrations in a different way now. Grievers are capable of finding joy in the holiday experience even after the death of a loved one who was a fundamental part of their celebration.

Recently, I polled a group of over 100 bereaved and asked what their objections and concerns were to the holidays since their loss. Three major themes were vividly apparent:

1. Avoidance/DenialThere’s a misconception that “if I can avoid or delay the holiday, I can avoid the pain.” Our Grinch-like attitude quickly surface; and we’d just like to run away. For some people, “running away” or taking a mini-vacation the first year or two is appropriate. It allows them time to get over the immediate pain and make plans in the future. However, next year (or next month) will bring a new holiday to deal with. So it’s probably wise to just face your fears right away rather than allow yourself the dread for another twelve months of anticipation.

If you can determine what you need to avoid, it can be helpful. Ask yourself questions, and give honest answers. Are you uncomfortable around a certain group of people? Is it the traditions that worry you? Whatever the fear, there are ways to modify or change what you previously did to something that causes less anxiety. Don’t be the one to spoil the day for other family. Find ways to

compromise, modify, and eliminate, rather than avoid. If you are going to be the Grinch, be the one that found the happiness and beauty in Christmas.

2. Sizzling Emotions:Ideally, we’d like to be in control of our emotions. Realistically, it might not be that easy, through no fault of our own. Holidays are filled with past memories and making new memories. Months before the holidays begin, the commercialization fills all of our senses with images and ideas that compete with our attempts to block out thoughts about what we will or will not do.

Expect surprise reactions to something you never dreamed would create a grief burst. This is the way of grief, and you typically have no way of knowing what will cause an emotional reaction. But, you can prepare for certain triggers that you know will be difficult. Try to determine what triggers may cause your emotions to erupt into outbursts, tears, or sadness (such as a song). Then, purposely plan a way to respond to each anticipated trigger.

The actual holiday is only 24 hours long…and from there the anxiety begins to dwindle. Take time to honor good emotions and remember your loved one through ritual or in a quiet moment alone. Have a get-over-it moment and then refocus and be thankful for what you have and those who care about you.

3. Objections to ChangeBereaved people will behave in one of three ways to change. (1) They will pretend that nothing changed and muddle through their celebrations as though nothing has changed. Or, (2) they will change their traditions so drastically that no one would recognize them. Or (3) families will wisely blend some of the old traditions with new traditions that make everyone feel comfortable and enthusiastic about a unique holiday celebration.

Celebrations and families are destined to change over the years, and death is just one of the factors that initiate change. Families grow, marry, move to new locations, just as frequently as families are


–8–

divided due to divorce, military service, death, college, and jobs. When you think of it that way, you can accept that modifying traditions is normal, required, and expected throughout life. There are many ways to incorporate or modify meaningful traditions that honor the past and the person who died that can be celebrated with joy and not sacrifice.

There’s Good News!Our slogan at Wings-a Grief Education Ministry is “Honoring the Past and Rebuilding the Future.” How appropriate this is when it comes to dealing with the changes of grief. The legacy of traditions, memories, and rituals you build with your family can begin with you. Every generation can take pride in designing a meaningful holiday experience that can span time and changes as they occur.

No one has the right to criticize your choices on how you celebrate; so be original and find new ways of being “family”. If you don’t find your changes satisfying after the holiday, next year you can always change them again or even go back to past ways of doing things. There are no rules.

For some, there is comfort in allowing the holidays to happen just like they always have with minimal change. These folks create a welcome balance for the other bereaved who would like to disappear. There’s a message of hope in their response to loss. If one or more people can cope with their loss during the holiday this year, maybe next year you will be able to do the same.

For others, it may be unsettling to participate in traditions and celebrations “the way it was” before. There is good news here also, it’s perfectly acceptable to change the traditions which may mean discontinuing doing things that no longer are meaningful. It also means it’s okay to create new ideas and new traditions with an updated twist. This appeals to the younger folk and can be adventurous for the more mature.

Another fact of good news is that most bereaved people can find joy, at some point. Continued feelings of pain and sadness from grief can be totally exhausting. Your waning lack of energy and spirit beckons you to find a healthier way to cope. Create moments with laughter and smiles by doing something spontaneous. You could watch a light-hearted holiday movie, chuckle over old pictures, create a cooking or crafting challenge, have an ugly sweater contest, or give a prize for the most absurd, embarrassing story.If you are concerned family or friends whose attempts to engage the bereaved fall flat, you may find that some bereaved people will feel miserable no matter what you try to do to engage them in the celebration or lighten their hearts. Don’t feel responsible for their sadness or grief. Trust that you can help them the most with your willingness to companion them and listen to their pain. Each person must make their own decision to heal. You can’t do that for them.

If this holiday is difficult for you, remember: You don’t have to pretend to enjoy every moment of the holiday, but be open to the luxury of happiness, laughter, and good fellowship with others. This, too, shall pass. Grief is a journey that doesn’t invite you to desirable destinations. Instead, it challenges you to bypass the regrets, overcome the obstacles, and take consolation in your amazing resilience.

For more tips on dealing with holiday blues, blunders, and bad experiences, read my book When the Holidays Hurt which is a collection of articles that help you find ways to cope and rebuild holiday traditions. Scan this code

for more info on Wings Grief


–9–


–10–


–11–

Elaine StillwellAuthor and National Presenter,

Columnist, Grief Digest, Chapter Leader, TCF of Rockville Centre, NY

Wife, mother grandmother, educator, author and speaker, Elaine E. Stillwell, M.A., M.S., shares her gifts of hope and inspiration with the bereaved, simply by telling what she has learned to cope and survive following the deaths of her two eldest children, 21-year-old Denis and 19-year-old Peggy, in the same 1986 automobile accident.

In addition to being Founder and Chapter leader of The Compassionate Friends of Rockville Centre, (Long Island) NY, 1987-present, with her husband Joe, Elaine has been writing for Grief Digest since it’s first issue in July 2003, and was Bereavement Coordinator for the Diocese of Rockville Centre, 1998-2010, working closely with 134 parishes and local agencies, where she spearheaded programs for the bereaved, designed and offered trainings for support group facilitators, maintained a website listing all available support programs in the area, and chaired the annual bereavement conference each spring.

Known for her passion and zeal, Elaine shares her unique gifts of caring and humor with audiences across the United States at workshops and seminars, in radio and television appearances, and through her magazine articles, DVDs, books and pamphlets.Elaine believes “If their song is to continue, then we must do the singing.”

A Forever AngelBy Elaine E. Stillwell, published by Centering Corporation, offers children the magical healing of creating angels for different occasions and major holidays in honor of their loved one who died. Designing angel cards, frames, pillows, candles, cookies and more, children share these homemade Forever Angels with people they choose, keeping their special person’s memory alive. A special gift for grieving children, the book offers a subtle way to have them open up and talk about the person who died. Recommended for use by teachers, counselors and support groups. Ages 8-16. $8.95

Available at Centering Corporation, www.centering.org,

and www.amazon.com

www.centering.org

Stepping Stones for the BereavedBy Elaine E. Stillwell, published by Liguori Publications (also available in Spanish), is a 24-page pamphlet filled with inspiring Christian meditations inviting Jesus into your heart as you share your sorrow with Him and ponder ways to empower yourself to walk the stepping stones to a place of comfort and peace within yourself. Its handy size is perfect to tuck into your pocket or purse, to attach to a bouquet, or slip into a card or note to a grieving friend, sharing comforting thoughts and healing ideas. $1.00 (discounts on 50 or more pamphlets) Available at Liguori Publications (toll-free 1-800-325-9521)

http://www.liguori.org

The Death of a Child: Reflections for Grieving ParentsBy Elaine E. Stillwell, published by ACTA Publications, offers hope and peace for the heart, simply sharing what has helped her and many other bereaved parents to cope, survive and have a meaningful life again. Speaking through the experience of losing her own two oldest children in a car accident, the book is “user friendly” (and actually helpful for all losses, we are told). In a warm, conversational voice, like sitting and talking together in your living room, Elaine guides bereaved parents through the roller coaster ride of grief, offering positive thoughts and ideas to try. Walk with Elaine as she “sings her children’s song” of life-giving lessons to your heart.$10.95, 160 pages. Available at ACTA Publications (toll-free 1-800-397-2282), Centering Corporation, 1-866-218-0101.


–12–

Sharing My Love for Peggy and Denis

(26 years of passionatley serving the bereaved)By Elaine Stillwell

Fifteen months after the deaths of my two oldest children, 21 year old Denis and 19 year old Peggy, in a 1986 car accident, my husband Joe and I founded The Compassionate Friends of Rockville Centre, NY and greeted 36 bereaved parents at that very first meeting. Today, we continue as Chapter Leaders, welcoming 60-70 members attending monthly meetings. Along with my TCF family, I am blessed with one remaining child Annie, grandson Christopher, and family rejuvenator – our dog Buddy, preceded by Mickey and Max.

Using my teaching and counseling credentials along with my speech and debate expertise, it seemed so natural to simply share what I learned: how to cope and survive a double loss. Then I began writing encouraging articles that appeared in national magazines and newsletters, became a columnist for Grief Digest since its launching in 2003, wrote my signature book The Death of a Child: Reflections for Grieving Parents, in addition to two crafts books for grieving children, Sweet Memories and A Forever Angel, and produced a 65 minute DVD, Helping Your Heart Through Grief, offering inspiration and hope. Enjoying writing, I am editor of my chapter’s monthly Newsletter mailed to 300 families and am a welcomed speaker, giving workshops and keynotes locally and across the country.

I was a NYS TCF Regional Coordinator, a Board Member of the National Catholic Ministry to the Bereaved, chairing two of their national conferences, and was Bereavement Coordinator for the Diocese of Rockville Centre, (1998-2010) serving 134 parishes, training support group facilitators, organizing support programs, presenting days of enrichment, and chairing ten annual Bereavement Conferences for all faiths. Living 20 miles from Ground Zero, I worked closely with 500 WTC families and distributed $100,000 worth of supplies to them and provided support groups for them. In 2007, I reached out to Virginia Tech families and in 2012 to Newtown, CT families who lost a child. Because I work closely with many agencies, hospitals, schools, churches, and therapists, locally I have been called the “Voice of the Bereaved.” I am a Charter Member of the Bereaved Parents/USA and have worked hand-in-hand with its local L.I. chapter and its 2009 National Gathering in NYC. Through my guidance and example, I have


–13–

motivated other chapter members to assume leadership positions in four other TCF chapters, start two new suicide support groups (A Place for Healing and A Place for Hope), open a BP/USA chapter (Syosset), a Guardian Angel Perinatal Support Group, and Parents of Hope group. In 1998, we added an Adult Sibling group (18 and above) to our Rockville Centre Chapter. To my joy, I have earned a reputation for building programs and directing people to them.

Recognized not only for my passion to help the bereaved, but also for my networking and organizing skills, and my speech and writing gifts which I am happy to share, I was chosen to receive Manhattanville College’s “Distinguished Alumni Award” 2010 at my 50th college reunion, was honored as Nassau County’s “Senior Citizen of the Year 2011, as a NYS Senate “Woman of Distinction” 2013, and as the 2013 recipient of the prestigious Simon Stephens Award for making significant contributions that have fostered and furthered the philosophy of TCF by practicing or promoting its missions and goals.

As I guide the bereaved, I call it “sharing Peggy and Denis with the world,” my way of keeping their memories alive. Even though my children died in 1986, I feel they are still making a difference in the world. True to our chapter’s mantra, “If their song is to continue, then we must do the singing.”

Accepting the Simon Stephens Award at the 36th National Conference of The Compassionate Friends in Boston, July 6, 2013, I was thrilled to share what helped me:

“What do you do after you’ve buried two children in one week? I ran to the library, hoping to learn how to survive! Luckily, every book I read mentioned The Compassionate Friends, a group I had never heard of. The rest is history. Fifteen months later my husband Joe and I founded TCF of RVC, NY and became chapter leaders, never dreaming we’d be doing this 26 years later. It was really God tapping me on the shoulder, whispering, “I gave you certain gifts, use them.” I had “fire in the belly” to survive, and later became passionate to make sure there was help out there for other bereaved families, since there was nothing there for me when I needed it.

TCF became a constant burning torch, lighting my way through the darkness of my grief. Remember, I started before computers, email and iPads, depending on my trusty ditto machine. With the help of TCF brochures, audio cassettes, videos, books, bracelets, magazines, conferences, and eventual website – I began my healing and effective leadership as a resilient, optimistic chapter leader who could inspire others to commit positive change. But without a doubt, the greatest gift of all has been the marvelous people I have met all over the country and the wonderful lifelong

friends who have made our chapter so special through their generosity of love time and talent. The bonding is stronger than “Super Glue and Duct Tape.”

People feel I have so much courage, but it isn’t courage, it’s the power to choose. I love Viktor Frankl, the famous Holocaust survivor, whose words found a home in my soul as he wrote: “Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms – to choose one’s own attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.” I chose to live. I wanted my children to be proud of me, (“That’s my mom!”), I didn’t want to waste that special love I have for them, and I didn’t want them erased – that was the motivation that got me out of bed in the morning.

When Viktor Frankl was asked how he endured all the sufferings of the Holocaust, he told us the secret, “To have a goal,” and when asked what his goal was, he simply stated, “To tell the world.” And that became my goal - to tell the world about Peggy and Denis, and a new world opened to me through my speaking and writing, locally and nationally. How excited I was when Grief Digest was launched ten years ago and I was invited to write for them, surrounded by the leaders in the bereavement field who taught me how to survive! I thought I died and went to heaven! When the local newspaper referred to me as “The Voice of the Bereaved,” that was like putting a tiger in my tank.

Nothing was ever planned, I simply fell into things. Now, I just say, “Lord, what’s next?” One blessing followed another as I discovered the value of gratitude, appreciating my life right now, versus where I want it to be. Rather than affirming what’s lacking, I have learned to bless all I have and use it wisely. My husband Joe, daughter Annie, grandson Christopher, dog Buddy, dear friends, along with my parents, Peggy and Denis, my faith and the grace of God top my Gratitude List.

I couldn’t do all this without my sweet Joe, my anchor, who would go to the moon and back for me, always by my side. While I’m kissing and hugging, he’s lugging all those boxes, filling up the coffeepots, setting up the library and fixing anything that is broken. What a team we make!

TCF gave my life purpose and validated that my children did not die in vain. Like Simon Stephens, sharing my time, talent, and treasure with others has been life-giving to me. Blessings came by serving others with great love. I have met God in each one of you. Being kind and friendly, being cheerful and upbeat, listening with compassion, having a sense of humor, sharing what I have learned, letting someone know they are not alone –these are the most generous gifts I can share – and best of all, they are the legacy of my Peggy and Denis. Thank you for honoring me today.”


–14–


–14–

Grief in the

Workplace

Jan Borgman, MSW, LISW-S, FT

b

“It’s just a job, a place I go to for 8 hours a day.” For many people, their job is just a part of their daily lives that provides a means to other things--food, clothing, shelter, security, etc. It’s just a part of the day and it starts and ends at a certain time. But those who are laboring through a grief experience, it isn’t just a job that lasts for 8 hours a day. For most grieving persons, grief is a 24/7 experience. Many people who have experienced the death of a loved one will state “I never knew grief was so hard. It’s the toughest job I’ve ever had to do.”

Most workplaces are not prepared to handle the impact of grief on its employees. While grief initially diminishes your ability to think clearly, zaps your energy, creativity and motivation, and may lead you to feel depressed and overwhelmed, grief will ease with time. At some point your ability to make decisions with relative ease will return. As you work through your grief, the energy level will eventually return. As you learn to channel your energy and feelings in new ways, your creativity and motivation will return. But it takes time. Grief is hard work and a “quick fix” society isn’t used to giving the time or support needed to work through the various stages and feelings related to grief.

It doesn’t matter if the loss was the death of a loved one, friend, or co-worker the loss must be experienced. Each person must grieve the loss of the person who was important in their life. And grief is harder than most people realize until they experience a significant loss or the death of a loved one.Grief can’t be turned off and on based on a work schedule. Grief comes with the person who is grieving wherever they go, including the workplace.


–15–

How to Help Someone wHo IS GrIevInG

There is no simple answer on how to help someone who is grieving. Each person grieves in their own way. The relationship you share with the person who is grieving may determine the type of assistance you feel you can offer. Here are a few suggestions that may be helpful:

If It IS a co-worker wHo IS GrIevInG:

1) Talk to them. Don’t be afraid to acknowledge their loss. Ask them how they are doing. Allow them to share what they feel comfortable with. Don’t force them to talk about the death or their loss. It may help them feel more at ease if you bring up their loss rather than ignore it. The grieving person’s world has been turned “upside down” and there is nothing that is normal for them at this time. 2) Don’t be afraid to include them in activities and projects. If they don’t want to participate at this time, it doesn’t mean that they won’t want to join in the next time. Today may be a difficult day for them, but that doesn’t mean they don’t want to be included in future activities.

3) Don’t force them into a social activity that they don’t want to join in at this time. Grief is hard work and they may not be able to enjoy the event or activity at this time. If is not unusual for friends to want to make them “feel better” but it is important to respect their decisions. Their rejection isn’t a reflection on you but about their ability to cope.

4) Treat them as you did prior to the death. One of the most common concerns shared by those returning to the workplace after the death of a loved one is “wondering how others will respond.”

Be genuine in your concern, allow them to do their jobs, realize that the first day or week might be difficult, but try to keep things as normal as possible. Routines are important to the grieving person.

5) Allow them to do their job. While some understanding and patience may be necessary as they readjust to the workplace, most grieving people are able to “do their jobs.” Their work may be a reprieve from their grief and may help them feel like they have some control in their life.

If a co-worker HaS dIed:

1) Provide employees a time and place to talk about the person who died. This may seem like an obvious thing to do, but in today’s world, it is often viewed as “business as usual.” Some workplaces do not offer Employee Assistance Programs (EAP) or may not feel comfortable allowing co-workers to openly grieve the loss of a colleague. Employers may not be able to allow the entire staff to attend the memorial service or funeral but it may be possible to allow some time to be taken during the work day to hold a service or acknowledge the person who died.

2) Acknowledge the fact that something has changed. Relationships with co-workers, colleagues or peers are usually

different than relationships shared with family or friends. While co-workers may also be friends, the workplace is a unique experience that brings employees together every day, perhaps four, five or six days a week. More time may have been spent with colleagues at work than with family or friends. When a co-worker dies, the dynamics of the workplace change for those who worked closely with the person who died.

3) Be patient with those who worked most closely or were friends with the person who died. Friend grief and workplace grief are often difficult to balance because of the unique relationship shared between the person who died and their peers. They are not part of the family and may not have been included in the planning of the service or in the activities after the service. The grieving co-worker may feel like “no one understands their grief” because of the lack of understanding about the relationship shared.

4) Is there a relationship with deceased co-worker’s family? Co-workers may want to arrange a time to visit with the family of their colleague who died to share stories or offer assistance. Perhaps co-workers can help the family adjust to their loss by offering to assist with tasks that need to be completed, such as taking the children to their activities, providing meals, helping with yard work, etc. The relationship of the employer with their employees as well as relationships shared between colleagues may define what the appropriate protocol is for the company or employees.

5) Don’t be afraid to ask for outside help. Sometimes it is helpful to provide bereavement counselors or to offer support groups for those grieving in the workplace. Employers have a fiscal responsibility to keep the business going, but they need their employees to be at their best. There are professionals who can help employers and employees deal with workplace grief.

remember:

No two people grieve the same way. No one can tell someone how long it will take them to work through their grief. Learn to be gentle with yourself and don’t force your grief recovery. Some days it will seem like you can handle anything that comes your way but other days it may take everything you’ve got just to get out of bed. Completing simple tasks may seem overwhelming. Remember that life is a cycle mixed with good days and bad days. Being gentle with yourself will help as you deal with your grief.

The challenge remains on how to balance compassion in the work place while maintaining a business. The more employers can understand the grieving process and assist the employee who is grieving, the more effective and productive the work place will become. Denying the pain of grief or expecting a bereaved employee to continue to perform at the same level as prior to the death may be unrealistic and setting the employee and employer up for failure. Don’t be afraid of grief and don’t be afraid to talk about the grief with the employer or the employee. Finding a mutual ground of understanding and compassion will help avoid some of the effects of grief in the workplace.

Grief in the

Workplace

Jan Borgman, MSW, LISW-S, FT

b


–16–

As I meet with people in my community, I gather tidbits of what they want, and more importantly, what they need, as we talk about end-of-life issues. What is even more interesting and impactful is looking at their eyes when they are asking their questions and telling me their stories. People are seeking answers, help, insight and someone to simply hear what is in their hearts and minds.

At a recent lunch program, a young woman told me she had come to “get a handle” on what she will be facing in her future...again. This is not the first time she is trying to prepare for the loss of a loved one.

“Getting a handle” on something paints a rather creative picture in my mind. I envision a stick figure clutching a handle, similar to one on a drawer. The figure’s legs are curvy and wiggly-looking because of shaking with fear and the burden of the unknown. Somehow the handle would be flying around like a blown up balloon when the knot is suddenly untied. There is no stability in this image even though the figure is gripping the handle with two hands.

One perspective of getting a handle on end-of-life issues is that it is a lot easier said than done. There are a lot of variables and changes during life and preparing for the end may seem ridiculous to some, but not for the young woman who attended the seminar. She (how about you?) wanted to learn before a health crisis. I was inspired by this woman who is willing to address the topic of dying well before the need arises in her personal life...again.

“GETTING A HANDLE ON IT”By Jackie Bates


–17–

To get a handle on it...let’s think about this for a minute. A handle is a tool used to stabilize or to grip onto for a specific purpose. For example, drawers have handles so we can easily open or close them. A handle allows an object to be grasped and used with a purpose in mind. Most handles are helpful and functional in their design, but in the long run, a handle simply needs to be secured to an object so when it is pulled on (utilized) it works for us.

That said, people sometimes use the phrase, “get a grip” or “get a handle on it” to dismiss or minimize an important process. A well-meaning person can use these phrases out of impatience or insensitivity. The message can be that you need to settle down… stop grieving…move on for goodness sake! Have you heard this from someone or from that voice inside of your own head? Your desire to get a handle on end-of-life concerns will make some people uncomfortable.

So, why would you take the time to get a handle on it?

Purposely inquiring about end-of-life issues can help secure your handle onto the drawer of life and death. Information can help calm the nerves and let you have some time to process before you are in the “have to” mode.

I’m a big fan of talking about your perspectives. When I actually get to hear your words, your perceptions and thoughts become word pictures and begin to clarify what you want and need. As private thoughts are described, a more personalized plan of care can be set in motion. This personalized plan is one way to care for your dignity, and caring for dignity is one of the most beautiful and life-changing treatments you will ever receive or offer to someone else.

One way to get a handle on determining and carrying out individualized care is to form a team. The team can be the classic doctor’s office and hospice professionals, but don’t limit yourself. Who else should be included on your team? What about neighbors, friends, family, Grief Digest magazine articles or books? We all can find help in different and unique ways. The key is to ask your questions and vocalize your thoughts to all of your team members.

By sharing your thoughts or wishes you are grabbing on to the handle that provides some connection or security and at least the beginning of a plan of action. Perhaps getting a handle on end-of-life topics will simply allow you to make the choices you want and not have to wake up startled after a crisis.

It is true, life cannot be controlled as easily as grabbing a handle on a drawer and opening it up to get what we want. Getting a handle may mean taking an opportunity to learn about choices in a non-crisis frame of mind. A friend who has experienced many losses said, “I like the thought about taking time to process before you are in the ‘have to’ mode. I think things often change.....when you’re in the ‘have-to’ situation, the cards aren’t always exactly the same as when things are theoretical, but the fact of having thought of it before makes it all a bit more familiar.”

A handle can come in the fashion of words, nature, faith, people and countless other surprises. Part of your role in getting a handle will be to use your hands, eyes or heart to grab a hold of “it” when it comes your way. I want your handle to help provide stability so you can face end-of-life issues while holding on to something that is secure.

What is available to help you get a handle on dying or death? Grief Digest magazine is a perfect “handle.” These articles and books are here for you to grab onto with all your strength...right now. Gripping on to a few words of hope or direction can allow you to place your foot on one more stepping stone closer to the quality of life you are looking for. Just like the woman who said she came to a Lunch and Learn to get a handle on ways to prepare for the future care of an aging parent, you can be proactive in discovering ways to get a handle on end-of-life questions now.

“GETTING A HANDLE ON IT”By Jackie Bates


–18–

War, deception, and sickness (including those without cures) are a few of the constants in our world. No doubt, more can be listed here. But, in this brief conversation, a particular aspect of life that is just as persistent will be considered: tentativeness.

Consider these realities: first and fatal cardiac arrest of a person who was a ‘picture of health’; completed suicide of someone known to be content and ‘had everything going for her (or him)’; viewing a much anticipated movie in a public theater only to be gunned down in cold blood by a stranger; arriving at work, as any other day, to only be burned alive before lunchtime because a passenger jet flew into the office building; being frustrated after missing the morning school bus to only discover that that bus was rammed into by a locomotive at a train crossing resulting in deaths of multiple bus-riders; returning home from spring break vacation bereft of a child as he was crushed to death by a falling display board at the airport. (And, by the time you read this, chances are unfortunately too great that a flurry of additional similar incidences would have come to pass.) These events underscore the tentativeness amid human existence from our perspective. In reaction, certain words are commonly attributed to these events: unexpected, off-time, unforeseen, unnatural, sudden, shocking, freak. Regardless of the word choice, such realities painfully and dolefully testify to the irrefutable fact of the fragile and perishable nature of earthly life: how people, places, and things can be safely and suitably deemed as tentative.

TENTATIVENESSby Paul Moon


–19–

Yet how deeply is this truth settled in us? Although we may admit that surprising devastations happen in our world, and so render tentativeness as real, we may yet accept this reality in varying styles and intensity. For instance, some of us might opine, in effect, “…tentativeness is true in others’ lives, but not so much in mine…” As throngs of people can report, and pensively so, of how they ignored and conveniently shoved aside this aspect of life, it is a wonder if we are not doing the same. Will the tentativeness of this very day be received as mere academic suggestion? What more evidence is required of tentativeness? It is indeed tempting to delude myself by rationalizing that, since my wife has been a part of my reality for the past 17 years, I will get to share more living experiences with her tomorrow as well. But how can I claim this? What assurances are afforded me? If I do have such a tomorrow, then I am thankful. However, if she or I disappear from the surface of this planet by later today or tomorrow, it will be difficult to put forth a legitimate complaint that none of us was warned. Please remember that there are persons locally and globally who presumed against tentativeness and are now sorrowing in disbelief (“I never saw it coming…”; “I can’t believe it really happened…”; “It was totally out of the blue…”). Grief may be unavoidable in this life, but the point here is that snubbing the tentative nature of earthly phenomena will only serve as an added layer of complication to foundational grief.

The famed Michelangelo is reputed as having said, “No thought is born in me that has not ‘Death’ engraved upon it.” But some might argue that such a mentality and life habit is impractical and unrealistic, as one cannot get up each morning and self-prompt to remember the tentativeness of life, the ruinous possibilities forthcoming, and the chance one’s life (or life of a dear one) may be quenched before the day is complete. What say you, dear reader? How do you see the regular habit of Michelangelo’s?

The rebuttal to the repulsion of daily reminding ourselves of the tentativeness of life may include the questions of: How wise is it to ignore observable truth? How genuine are we to tell ourselves and others that ‘everything will be fine’ when all of us are blind to the factual details of the very next moment, day, week, month, and year? How authentic is the practice of withholding life’s harsh truths from children, when they themselves are never immune to the brevity of earthly existence? How considerate is it to detract certain grievers’ voices because of our own anxieties about those grievers’ losses that attest to life’s tentativeness? How useful is it to adopt a stance of resignation towards life (Que será, será…whatever will be, will be)?

Dear reader, there is encouragement to seek and pursue a more informed path. Indeed, the notion of ‘whatever will be, will be’ underlines human limitations and confines of our bounded powers; tentativeness is thus reinforced. However, the ‘whatever will be’ does not have to apply to personal choice-making in terms of discovering and deciding on life anchors.

Life AnchorsTentativeness in and of life begs the question: What, then, is not tentative? In other words, what is outside the realm of tentativeness? This issue regards the consideration of life anchors. An anchor is that which grounds us when all else is adrift. For such an anchor to be it is warranted that it be something non-contingent or independent of any temporary entity. Do such anchors exist? Do you have such an anchor to keep you sane, grounded, and justly hopeful in utterly dark times?

Dear reader, an anchor is not a mere option; for to pursue anything during the relatively short span of life without an anchor is arguably equated to being resolutely rooted in the drifting barge of incidental gamble. As such, nevertheless, consider how other human beings cannot be true anchors as they are tentative, contingent (dependent) and constitutionally bound to mortality. Well, what then? How about certain ideals or philosophies as life anchors? Yet, do not such human proposals sway with inevitable paradigm shifts evidenced throughout recorded history? Then how about determined life goals to anchor life? But are not such goals necessarily chained to earthbound forces and circumstances beyond our scope of prediction and manipulation? Alternatively, how about personal legacy: can this not serve to anchor us in this perilous world? But consider: when you and I die, what unassailable compact do we have that others will keep our legacies or even receive them as they were intended? Even legacy-leaving, it turns out, is sufficiently tentative.

The query lingers: Do you have an anchor which can keep you in place when life melts down and your heart is sunken? For those who might find the idea of a non-contingent anchor as laughable and fiction, remember the roster of persons whose lives, deaths and acts have been chronicled (in books and minds of witnesses) that testify of faithfully holding onto that which surpasses the tentativeness of this terrestrial domain.

Tentativeness permeates our everyday. It is not something we can be exempt from or deny away and conveniently discredit. It relentlessly touches the things we care about. Thus an anchor is required; an anchor which is beyond the tentacles of tentativeness.


–20–

I am sitting at my desk looking outside at the glorious blue sky and just a tinge of color change in the leaves. The weekend was one of brisk cool air, the smell of bonfires in the neighborhood, and of mums replacing the petunias that are now stringy and overgrown.

I am entering my 16th fall season without my son, Adam. Truthfully I don’t remember much of the first, or the second ones. My mind was numb, my heart hurt and it was enough to make it through each day let alone noticing what was going on in the world around me.

Mark and I had attended a Compassionate Friends meeting in the November after Adam’s death in August, and listened to a speaker, the owner of a local funeral home, talk about “how to get through the holidays.” I remember hearing him say that it was OK to do whatever we needed to get us through the next months. Whether it was go to a hotel and shut the world out, or have friends and family over and spend time remembering.

Our choice for the first year was to have our daughter, Katrina, her husband and Adam’s wife for dinner. We all chose a favorite food of Adam’s and all agreed that it would not be a traditional Thanksgiving meal. It was quite a smorgasbord of food! Did it make us feel better? No, not one bit. But, it gave us something to plan for, to somehow honor the memory of our son, brother and husband, and we even had a few laughs mixed in with the tears.

Another year we packed a bag and drove to a city a couple of hours away over the Thanksgiving weekend. We stayed in a nice hotel, had dinner in the restaurant there, then went back to the room and watched movies. The next day we traveled to small towns in the area, did some shopping and then went back to the hotel for another night of movies. We removed ourselves from the world and the Thanksgiving holiday. We just weren’t feeling thankful…and it was OK. Not everyone thought it was OK, but it was for us.

Most know the symbolism of the fall season with life. Frank Sinatra sings, “But now the days grow short in the autumn

of our life.” It is a season of dying. Just a short while ago everything was lush, healthy, beautiful. Now the air is crisp and cool, the apple orchards are busy selling cider and pumpkins. But, with all of this comes the end, the death of those beautiful “flowers” in our life, the end of the season. The second thing is it reminds us of the upcoming season, winter. Cold, barren, lonely winter. Just like our lives feel after the death of our child. It reminds us that all of those wonderful family traditions with the holidays are coming up soon. Sometimes it brings a feeling of shear panic…what do I do? How do I get through this?” Or, a feeling of dread, a feeling of melancholy, a feeling of deep down hurt that our child will not be here for those family times.

Since the beginning of our journey 16 years ago, we have started some new traditions. In the beginning we had a 5X7 picture of Adam that was included in the table settings, whether it was at our home or somewhere else. Stars have a significant meaning for us so each year I find a special star ornament to add to our Christmas tree. There have been years that we have not put a Christmas tree up, and then the ornament waits to be hung until the next year, or whenever we do have one in our home. Also, Adam was an amazing accomplished trumpet player. We found a theater that has a brass concert the weekend of Thanksgiving to kick off the Christmas season. Hearing those trumpets is so sweet and brings some joy into our hearts. Some of the traditions we had we no longer do, but some are good to continue for now.

So even though others will not understand your grief as the years go by, it is still your own personal journey. It does get better and there are times of laughter remembering and even anticipation of the upcoming season, but there will always be that hole in our heart acknowledging that a very special part of the season is not here to celebrate with us. With summer over and fall arriving, we must make adjustments to fit our needs for this year to honor our beloved child whether continuing with past traditions or creating new ones.

The Autumn Season of LifeBy Linda Triplette


–21–

AA MMOOTTHHEERR’’SS JJOOUURRNNAALL A Mother’s Journal is a book written from the broken heart of a mother as she struggles to cope with the most devastating loss the human heart can bear – the death of a child. Penetrating and personal, this journal is a true and vivid picture of a mother’s grief in the midst of the tragic loss of her son. Throughout its pages, grief attacks without notice and attempts to strip away her heart, mind and soul, and in her struggles, she cries out to her son… “I will miss you, forever.”

This tender journal is a must read for anyone who is grieving and for anyone with a heart to help others in their grief walk. Captivating and heart

wrenching at times, this book also brings the reader to a greater understanding of the love of a mother toward her son. In the end, her horizon of hope is realized but only when the road through the darkest of valleys is traveled. Through it all, grief remains, but love triumphs.

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

Linda Triplett is co-founder and Director of LNF Ministries, an organization that provides grief ministry support for parents suffering from the death of a child.

She is the mother of Adam Triplett and his sister Katrina, and grandmother to Morgan and Adam. Linda lives in Minnesota with her husband Mark. To learn more about Linda and her ministry, visit www.lnf.org.

Available at: www.adamstar-publishing.com


–22–

Will I survive? Will I ever be happyagain? Questions that Harriet Hodgsonasked herself after she was left to raise hertwin grandchildren, while grieving forfour family members, including herdaughter. Harriet reminds us that weare not alone in our grief and, thoughlosses may define our lives, they will notdestroy them. This book tugged at myheartstrings. Harriet’s account of ajourney from despair to hope is filled withpractical suggestions on how to once againhave a meaningful life. Happy Again!inspired me and I think it will inspire you.

Heidi Horsley, PsyD, LMSW,Executive Director, Open to HopeFoundation and Adjunct Professor,Columbia University

Harriet Hodgson speaks wisely andcompassionately from the very depthsof her soul. Engagingly written withpersonal experiences, psychological insights,and practical wisdom, she transformscrushing tragedy to growth and a positiveaffirmation of life.

Rabbi Earl Grollman, DHL, DD,author of Living When a LovedOne has Died

Happy Again!Your New and Meaningful

Life After LossH A R R I E T H O D G S O N

NEW FROM CENTERING CORPORATION

To order go to www.centering.orgor call 1-866-218-0101Price: $10.95 plus shippingHarriet Hodgson has been an independent journalist for decades and is the author of 30books. She is a member of the Association of Health Care Journalists and Association forDeath Education and Counseling. Harriet lives in Rochester, MN with her husband andtwin grandchildren. Please visit www.harriethodgson.com for more information about thisbusy author and grandmother.


–23–

Community organizations have a variety of speakers and program. A recent speaker began his talk with a poem, “The Power of One.” It was a moving poem and the speaker said each of us had the power to make the world a better place. When I returned home I searched for the poem on the Internet.

Written by an anonymous author, the poem made me think of my grief journey, a journey of multiple losses and profound sorrow. The fourth verse says one step starts a journey, one word starts a prayer, one hope raises your spirits, one touch shows you care. At the end, the author wrote, “You see, IT’S UP TO YOU!”

Grief recovery was up to me. In 2007 I lost four family members, my daughter (mother of our twin grandchildren), father-in-law, brother, and former son-in-law. Four deaths in nine months were so shocking I was almost immobile, both physically and emotionally. But I had lost other family members earlier in life and, thankfully, was able to assess my grief.

Just as the poem says, I knew one step would start the journey.

That step was to write about my grief. My daughter and father-in-law died the same weekend. A week later, I sat down at the computer and started writing short articles about grief-related topics. I also made a promise to myself: I’ll write for a year, stop, and see what I find. Month after month, I continued to write articles and many of them were posted on a royalty-free website.

For me, writing is a spiritual experience, sort of like a prayer. Before I begin my writing day I often meditate for a few moments. Five years ago I meditated about my husband and me becoming GRGs – grandparents raising grandchildren. I meditated about my new role, caregiving, and encouraging teens. Years passed, and thoughts from my meditations worked their way into my writing.

Slowly, four individuals, two loving grandparents, two energetic teenagers, merged into a grandfamily. We talked more, lingered at the dinner table, and laughed together. Our grandson began to ask my husband, a retired physician, medical questions that puzzled him. Our granddaughter, a wonderful writer herself, asked me about writing. Today, our house is the home they come home to, and I think they like coming home.

Each college break, each holiday, we await them eagerly, the back door opening, footsteps on the floor, and the call, “Hi, I’m home!” The twins both graduated from high school with honors, received college scholarships, and are succeeding in college. Their accomplishments give us, and them, hope for the future.

But I must be honest. There were times, really dark times, when I went backwards on the recovery path, and was almost out of hope. Thankfully, I had family, friends, and church to rely upon. I also knew myself, knew my coping skills, and was willing to create new ones. To put it another way, I believed in my power of one.

No matter where you are in your grief journey, you have that power. You can turn negative thoughts to positive, blame to acceptance, despair to hope. It isn’t easy, I know, but the human spirit is resilient, and you can do it. When the darkness fades and light starts to appear, you can plan the new life that awaits you, and how you will tap your power of one.

The Power of One

One song can spark a moment,One flower can wake the dream.

One tree can start a forest,One bird can herald spring.

One smile begins a friendship,One handclasp lifts a soul.

One star can guide a ship at sea,One word can frame the goal.

One vote can change a nation,One sunbeam lights a room.

One candle wipes out darkness,One laugh can conquer gloom.

One step must start each journey,One word must start each prayer.

One hope will raise our spirits,One touch can show you care.

One voice can speak with wisdom,One heat can know what’s true.One life can make a difference,

You see, IT’S UP TO YOU!”

Even in Grief, You Have the Power of One

By Harriet Hodgson


–24–

On Christmas Eve, I was sick with stomach pains and a fever of 101 degrees that wouldn’t drop. Chad had to work and I sent Wyatt to my sister-in-law’s house to hopefully prevent him from catching my illness. I lay on the leather couch in our living room and stared at the ceiling. There was something so special about our house. Even when the three levels were empty of visitors, the structure bustled with fullness, alive with a comfortable energy. On that day, though, the house felt painfully vacant—so incredibly void of life that I swore I heard the lonesome structure weeping. Or maybe it was the winter sleet shower outside. Either way, we were alone. The house and me.

With my body hunched forward and my right hand cradling my stomach, I wearily climbed the stairs toward our bedroom and the comfort of our king-size bed. With each step, the house let out a croak of despair, and, like a rehearsed duo, I matched each note with a moan of my own. At the top of the stairs, I bypassed our bedroom and headed straight to Wyatt’s room…Isabelle’s room. I didn’t even know what to call the room anymore. Isabelle’s name still decorated the wall above the crib, along with Wyatt’s name below, and a few pink accents helped to keep her memory alive without making the room appear too girly.

I shuffled across the wooden floor to the dresser and touched the small, silver jewelry box with Isabelle’s name and baptism date engraved on the front. Inside I found the white plastic rings that were fastened around her newborn ankles the day we brought her home. I sniffed the plastic pieces and I smelled nothingness. Synthetic, man-made materials. Emptiness. Sadness. Definitely not the smell of Isabelle.

These items of hers, they were just things. They couldn’t coo or swat at my earrings or fall asleep on my chest. They couldn’t even smell

Greeting Card From God

excerpt from Only God Knows Why: A Mother’s Memoir of

Death and Rebirth

By Amy Lyon


–25–

like her, and that’s what I needed, to be reminded of her smell. I gasped, horrified that I couldn’t remember her scent. It had only been a year-and- a-half. Too soon to let even the tiniest detail slip away. The hot flash of fear sent me on a rampage throughout the house that—in the end—would be life changing.

The house’s walls trembled with each of my sobs, and when I pushed open the pocket door to the upstairs closet where we kept a trio of pink bins that stored the evidence of Isabelle’s four months of existence, the house seemed to bellow with me. Clothes. Toys. Baby bottles. No. 2 unused diapers. I pulled out a pink and white quilted baby blanket with the words “Some Bunny Loves You” on the front and a picture of a floppy-eared rabbit on the back. I held the blanket close to me, smelled it, but again, no smell.

I turned quickly and moved into my office just down the hall, the door screeching before it hit the wall with a thud. I scooped up the three pictures of Isabelle I kept on my desk and carried them with the blanket to our bedroom.“Please God,” I whispered, pressing my eyes closed. “Please let me hold my baby again.”I reasoned that if I could just hold her one more time, rub my lips across her forehead, and take in her baby scent, I would commit that feeling and her smell to memory, maintain it somehow. I would never be so careless as to let my mind forget again.

I opened my eyes, but nothing happened. So I rushed to my closet, searched the top shelf with my fingertips, and pulled down the pair of ratty jeans I’d worn in the hospital. Then I found the black and white tank top and put that on, too. Chill bumps stood at attention on my arms. The house began to sway and the walls seemed to step forward, closing in around me. I melted like Silly Putty into a fetal position, then crawled into bed with my pictures and the blanket and I sobbed. I sobbed because I missed her. I sobbed because she would miss so much. I sobbed because her life was too short and the rest of my life was way too long.

Only the house knows when I fell asleep, but I awoke with a start an hour later. The walls of the house had realigned themselves and stood tall once again. The room was quiet and the pains in my stomach were gone. I touched my forehead and it was sweaty, but it wasn’t hot anymore. I slid out of the tall bed, leaving the pictures and the blanket

tucked safely next to my pillow. Downstairs I found the energy to sweep the kitchen floor, and it was during that simple act of sweeping that the stack of holiday greeting cards on the counter caught my attention. Surreally, the room darkened, a projector kicked on inside my head, and my memory played the dream I’d had while sleeping.

It was Christmas Eve and we celebrated at my father-in-law’s heavily decorated rambler just down the street from our home. A white, cotton clothesline ran from the kitchen, through the dining room and into the living room where it was clipped to an eyehook just above the front door.

All sizes of wrapped presents encircled with ribbons and brightly colored bows were fastened with wooden clips to the clothesline. Adults were laughing and children were running around, and one by one the gifts were unclipped from the clothesline and dispersed.

After all of the presents were opened and the “oohs” and “ahhs” subsided, I leaned over Chad’s shoulder and whispered, “I didn’t get a present.” Chad turned to me, his forehead wrinkled, then looked at the empty clothesline. “Hmmm. That’s strange.”

Wyatt was on Chad’s shoulders and he pointed to the far wall in the kitchen. “There!” he shouted excitedly. “Mommy, you forgot one!”

I whirled around and zeroed in on a small, ivory-colored envelope clipped to the very top of the clothesline, half hidden by the cupboard.

“Amy” was written on the front in a chicken-scratch print. With all eyes on me, I unclipped the card. I was embarrassed that Chad’s family had witnessed my uneasiness over not receiving a gift, yet I was thankful I was not completely forgotten.

I tore open the envelope. The cover of the card was simple with a traditional wintertime scene reproduced on the same ivory paper as the envelope. A small, snow-covered house had smoke billowing from its chimney like puffs of happiness. Evergreen trees protectively encircled the perimeter. Outdoor lights illuminated a cobblestone path as a horse-drawn carriage rolled by. I opened the card and handwritten in black ink were the words, “Write that book. Love God and Isabelle.”

Yes. I had a book to write.


–26–

Contributors

Elaine StillwellWife, mother, grandmother, educator, author and speaker, Elaine E. Stillwell, M.A., M.S., shares her gifts of hope and inspiration with the bereaved, simply telling what she has learned to cope and survive following the deaths of her two eldest children, twenty-one-year old Denis and nineteen-year old Peggy, in the same 1986 automobile accident. In addition to being Founder (1987) and Chapter Leader of The Compassionate Friends of Rockville Centre, Long

Island, New York, (along with her husband Joe), she is also a Charter Member of Bereaved Parents/USA since 1995. From 1998-2010, she served as Bereavement Coordinator for the Diocese of Rockville Centre, NY, reaching out to the bereaved in 134 parishes, organizing and training the bereavement facilitators through special enrichment programs and chairing the annual bereavement conference. Elaine shares her unique gifts of caring and humor with audiences across the United States at workshops and seminars, in radio and television appearances, and through her numerous magazine articles. She is the author of two crafts books for grieving children, Sweet Memories and A Forever Angel (Centering Corporation), a pamphlet of spiritual meditations, Stepping Stones for the Bereaved (Liquori Publications), and a book filled with suggestions for parents who have lost a child of any age, The Death of a Child (ACTA Publications).

Nan ZastrowOn April 16, 1993, Chad Zastrow, the son of Nan and Gary died as the result of suicide. Ten weeks later Chad’s fiancée took her life. This double tragedy inspired the Zastrows to create a ministry of hope. They formed a non-profit organization called Roots© and Wings. Through workshops, seminars, group presentations and other methods, Nan and Gary create community awareness about grief experiences. Additionally,

they host an annual Spring Seminar and Holiday workshop. They also facilitate a Sudden Death Learning Series. Nan is the author of a book, Blessed Are They That Mourn, and over thirty Editor’s Journal Articles in Wings and other publications. The Wings non-profit organization is the recipient of the 2000 Flame of Freedom Award for community volunteerism. In May 2002, Nan & Gary earned their Certificate in Death and Grief Education from the Center for Loss and Life Transition in Fort Collins, Colorado.

Paul MoonPaul is the Bereavement Coordinator at Alacare Home Health & Hospice based in Birmingham, Alabama. He is married to Esther, and their children are Samantha, Christopher and Andrew. Paul studied mental health counseling and adult education, and has worked in the field of hospice for several years.

Daina Simpson MahonDaina Simpson Mahon was an educator who worked as a private school principal for ten years, an English teacher and outreach teacher to high school students for seven years, and a middle school language arts teacher for eight years. Teaching writing has been a passion of Dainaís for many years, but her proudest accomplishment has been being Devin’s mom. Devin was killed September 25, 2006, at the age of twenty-seven, as she rode her bicycle in Oxnard, California. Daina has written poetry and musings, and she has

journaled as a way to express her grief. Devin was a writer, musician, actor, and lover of life.

Darcie SimsDarcie D. Sims, Ph.D., CHT, Ct, GMS, is a bereaved parent and child, a grief management specialist, a nationally certified thanatologist and pastoral bereavement specialist, and a licensed psychotherapist. She is an internationally recognized speaker and has been writing for Grief Digest magazine since its first issue. She is the author of Why are the Casseroles Always Tuna?, Footsteps Through the Valley, Touchstones and If I Could Just See Hope. Darcie is featured in the award-winning video series, Good Grief,

produced by Iowa Public Television. She served on the national board of directors for The Compassionate Friends, the Association of Death Education nand Counseling, and the National Catholic Ministry to the Bereaved. She is currently president and co-founder of GRIEF, Inc., a grief consulting business, and she is the director of the American Grief Academy in Seattle, Washington. She can be contacted at [email protected] or visit her Web site at www.griefinc.com.


–27–

Jan BorgmanJan Borgman, MSW, LISW-S, FT, is the Clinical Program Manager for Bereavement Services at Cincinnati Children’s Hospital Medical Center in Cincinnati, Ohio. She is a Fellow in Thanatology (FT) through the Association of Death Education and Counseling. Jan has been providing bereavement-related services and programs for over twenty-five years. Jan facilitates bereavement support groups in her

community. She is a frequent speaker on the topic of grief and loss in the community and has been a presenter for national organizations such as the Association of Death Education and Counseling (ADEC), the Association for Oncology Social Work (AOSW) and for the Society of Social Work Leaders in Health Care (SSWLC).

Jackie BatesJackie Bates is a hospice nurse that has watched many people pass through that sacred moment we call death. She has seen families and friends provide grace and comfort. She has some ideas on how to have important conversations that can make that transition more serene and more meaningful. Jackie is a graduate of Bryan Memorial School of Nursing and has a 30-plus year career in the United States, Africa and Latin America. A registered nurse, Jackie is a member of the Nebraska Hospice and Palliative Care Association and the Lincoln Independent

Business Association. When she’s not working, Jackie enjoys relaxing at home with her pet and nurturing the ground her home sits on. Her work has been shaped by faith values which convince her life and death are sacred. Jackie’s web site is www.jackiejbates.com.

Linda TriplettLinda Triplett is a mother of two; my daughter, Katrina, the wife of Chad and mom to Lindaís two amazing grandchildren, Morgan and Adam, and her son, Adam. On August 4, 1997, Lindaís son, Adam, a flight instructor, was giving a lesson to a student on a beautiful sunny afternoon. They experienced engine problems while doing a ìtouch and go.î Adam was able to bring the plane down safely on a city street, but one wing caught a small tree on the boulevard and was torn off causing fuel to leak. The plane came to a stop in a residential

yard. Adam was able to get out of the plane but there was a fiery explosion that killed Adam and Jason. From that day forward Lindaís life changed forever. Now she is dedicated to helping other grieving parents through our ministry, LNF (Love Never Fails), and her book, A Motherís Journal. Linda has been married to her husband, Mark, for more than 43 years. She works full time at a law firm as a receptionist. She likes to read, hike and watch classic movies.

Harriet HodgsonHarriet Hodgson has been an independent journalist for decades. She is a member of the American Society of Journalists and Authors, Association of Health Care Journalists, and Association for Death Education and Counseling. Author of 30 books, she has appeared on more than 160 talk shows, including CBS Radio, and dozens of television stations, including CNN. Her work is cited in Who’s Who of American Women, World Who’s Who of Women, Contemporary Authors, and other directories. Harriet lives in Rochester,

Minnesota, with her husband and twin grandchildren. Please visit her web site for more info about Harriet, www.harriethodgson.com.

Amy LyonAmy Lyon is a wife and a mother, and when she’s not busy with dance parties in the kitchen or playing by the lake, she works as a community newspaper editor for the Savage Pacer. She has worked in the field of community journalism since 1996. In January, she and her staff received two awards from the Minnesota Newspaper Association in the categories of General Reporting and Headline Writing. Additionally, Amy writes creative nonfiction and memoir. She has had more

than 1,200 articles published in newspapers, magazines and specialty publications. Only God Knows Why is her first published book. In addition to writing, Amy enjoys reading, gardening, crafting and sharing her story with groups of all sizes. She is always searching for more ways to assist parents in their grief journeys.

Joy JohnsonJoy Johnson is a nationally known author and presenter. Along with her husband, Dr. Marv Johnson, she co-founded two nonprofits in Omaha, Neb., the Centering Corporation and Ted E. Bear Hollow. Centering is America’s oldest and largest bereavement resource center and Ted E. Bear Hollow is Omaha’s center for grieving children. After writing or editing more than 100 books and articles about grief, Joy wrote her first novel called The Burned Out Old Broads at Table

12. Since the first novel, she has made hundreds of presentations at libraries, churches, book clubs, and gathering places for seasoned women. Joy and Dr. Marv have a blended family of six children, nine grandchildren and four great-grandchildren. Her joy is writing BOOB Girl books and talking with fans and readers.


–28–

1-888-alacareTM

(1-888-252-2273)

alacareHOME HEALTH & HOSPICE®

SPOT 485

credits

Magazine design and layout by Janet Sieff, Centering Corporation.

Reprint Policy: We love it when you like our material well enough to pass it on to others, but we’d really appreciate your letting them know where you found it. There is no charge to reprint material from Grief Digest, but we do require that you include the words, “Reprinted with permission from Grief Digest, Centering Corporation, Omaha, Nebraska, 866-218-0101.” Also, please don’t change anything in the copy you are reprinting. Thank you for your continued support and your cooperation.

Color eMagazine: Do to printing costs, the full-color Grief Digest edition is available at www.griefdigestmagazine.com. For weekly articles, author updates, promotional coupons, and same great content, visit Grief Digest online!

“A picture is worth a thousand words” is more than just a quotation. We are proud to present the illustrations (credited below) which add such beauty and elegance to the wonderful words of our contributors. We are so grateful for the abundant talent that has been given to this magazine, and we know that their amazing gifts will bless and enrich many lives.

Grief Digest is a Centering Corporation Resource

The Centering Corporation was founded in 1977 by Joy and Dr. Marvin Johnson, National Presenters. We started out with nine little coloring books for hospitalized children and a couple of workshops for nurses. Today we have over 150 of our own grief resources for children and adults, My Friends Emotion Dolls, a Memory Bag for children and five videos. Pictured are Nick Sieff, Kelsey Novacek, Janet Sieff, and Ben Schroeder.

www.centering.org

To order contact: Grief Digest Magazine, PO Box 4600, Omaha, NE 68104

Phone: 1-866-218-0101 Fax: 402-553-0507 Email: [email protected]

$30.00 Annually/Quarterly Magazine – Code: 3PEC

$24.95 Renewal (no resource package) – Code: 1PRC

$49.90 2-year subscription – (resource package) – Code: 2PRC

Subscribers get a 10% discount on all Centering Corporation orders while active.

www.griefdigestmagazine.com

PO Box 4600 Omaha, NE 68104Phone: 866-218-0101

Non-Profit OrgU.S. Postage

PAIDOmaha, NE

Permit #1423

Summer 2013$7.95 US Funds

www.centering.orgwww.griefdigestmagazine.com

grief digest v11i01

Documents

bereaved parents

bereaved families

chuck guides

grieving parents

situations bereaved

child diesby chuck collinsin

childs death

fathers day