Old Friends Never Forget

A few months back I wrote about an email I received from Marcy’s first boyfriend, telling me how much he cared for Marcy. This week I received another email, from a good friend of my daughter from 25 years ago, who has been trying to find me for many years (she had only my former married last name and didn’t know I had remarried). She was finally able to get my email. She had heard about Marcy’s car accident years before and through her tears was writing to me. “Some friendships,” she said, “can not be forgotten.” I, too, was very friendly with her mother and somehow, as happens at times, we lost track of each other.

I called my daughter’s friend immediately and we talked for a while. My daughter would have been 42 this year, and it is hard to picture her friend as 42, married and worrying about her child serving in Iraq. She spoke of her mom and when we finished, I anxiously called her. Time melted away, and it was as if we had just spoken the day before, not 20 years ago. It seems she, too, changed her name when she remarried and that is why I could not find her. We plan to get together soon. It is so hard to believe we have lived in the same city all these years and never bumped into each other. What we did discover was that we have mutual friends that we are both friendly with. We believe we’ll have a lot to talk about and catch up on when we meet, and hopefully, I will never lose track of her again as we grow old together.

I can’t wait to bring my friend and her daughter the book I wrote about surviving grief, and show them precious pictures of Marcy, as we laugh at the antics of both Marcy and her daughter in their teens. I’m sure she’ll also share memories and some of her photos.

What happiness it brings to my heart to know that after all this time, Marcy’s friends still bring me joy by staying in touch and remembering her. I was right all along. She will never be forgotten by me, and it is such a comfort to know that her memory will live in the hearts of others as well.

Famous people lose children too

Actor John Travolta is the latest of famous people to lose a child, his son Jett. The rich and famous are not immuned to this devastation. Actress Mary Tyler Moore, TV star Carroll O’Connor, Senator John Edwards, President John Kennedy, comedian Bill Cosby, and historical figures such as Abraham Lincoln and Mark Twain, just to name a few, have all suffered the loss of a child. There are times when all the money and fame in the world can not keep us safe from something like a car accident, an unwelcomed illness, suicide, murder or a drug overdose. Their loss is as great as ours, but they are just more in the spotlight.

The only people who understand the pain that the Travolta’s are going through are parents who have also lost children. Even though some people say they know how you are feeling because they lost a cat or a mother, they have no clue as to what this is all about unless they too have suffered a child’s death.

My front page book endorsement from Stephen Cannell, famous author and TV playwright, told me about losing his teenage son many years ago in a freak beach accident when the castle he was building out of sand collapsed on top of him, suffocating him. Author Danielle Steel, who also endorsed my book, lost one of her nine children to suicide and never saw it coming. A friend of mine lost three children, all to car accidents, one year after the other; he is now childless.

Whether the child was an only child or one of many makes no difference in the intensity of the loss. We love all our children and don’t want anything to happen to any of them. And when it does, it is devastating.

The death of a child is the most painful experience you can ever go through. Children are not supposed to die before the parents. It is not the natural order of things, and so when it happens, we are thrown helter-skelter into a different life, one we wish we didn’t have to go through.

We all feel for the Travolta’s as we do any parent who loses a child. We’d like to help in some way. But there is nothing we can say or do that will make it all go away. The best advice I can give to family members and friends is to just listen. Let the parent talk about their child. Hold their hand. If you want to, cry with them. Fix a meal. Go shopping for them. Invite them out when they are feeling a little better. Show that you care. It’s what you do, not what you say, that’s important.

The pain will never leave these parents, but it will get softer with time. Time is a great healer as the Travolta’s will discover moving through their grief. I, along with many others, wish them the best.

Conferences for 2009

A new year and a new resolution: to make sure I give you all the information I have on major conferences being held this year for bereaved parents.

May 2009
The Compassionate Friends 5th International Gathering in Buenos Aires, Argentina. This conference will give anyone attending the opportunity for “continuing build bridges of love without borders” and commemorte 40 compassionate years since The Compassionate Friends was founded in Coventry, England, by Reverend Dr. Simon Stephens, who spoke at a recent national conference. See the compassionate friends site for more information: http://www.compassionatefriends.org/ .

July 10-12, 2009
Bereaved Parents USA gathering in New York City. This conference will be held at the Crown Plaza Hotel at La Guardia Airport. The theme is "Light My Way." All parents, grandparents and siblings are invited. For additional information contact Diana Roscigno at 2009gathering@bereavedparentsusa.org .

Aug. 7-9, 2009
The 32nd Annual Conference of Compassionate Friends. This conference will be held in Portland, OR. Anyone interested in participating in or giving a workshop can submit their ideas to national office. See their website for more information: http://www.compassionatefriends.org/ .

Aug. 20-23, 2009
The 23rd Annual Parents of Murdered Children National Conference. This will be held in Cincinnati, OH, at the Hyatt Regency Hotel. The theme is “Broken Hearts Healing with Help, Hope and Hugs.”Contact Sherry Nolan or Bev Warnock, 513-721-5683 or 888-818-7662 or visit http://www.pomc.org/ for ore complete details.

Alive Alone would appreciate someone stepping forward to sponsor a national conference for parents who have no surviving children, but so far no one has done that for the coming year. If you know of someone who would do a good job, have them contact Kay at http://www.alivealone.org/

In addition, local and regional conferences are held during the year. One I know of so far is March 20-21, 2009 in Frankfort, KY, at the First Christian Church, 316 Ann St. in Frankfort. Conference speakers include Paul Alexander, singer, psychotherapist, author who shares his music and message of hope throughout the U.S. and has worked with hospice and terminally ill children; William Ritter, author and speaker on suicide; Sherry Russell, who works in crisis management; and Alice Wisler who writes and teaches courses on "Writing the Heartache." Workshops include: journaling, after death communications, coping separately together, grief vs. depression, children's grief, coping, and getting through the firsts. A reflection room and butterfly table are available as well as picture buttons and a memory table.

New Year's Resolutions

Ten New Years Resolution for bereaved parents to work through:

I will try to use my inner resources to cope with my loss, whether it be alone or with another loved one helping me. In the process I will remember that this is a long journey and not to worry that in my upward journey, I may fall but will have the strength to get up again and continue on.

I will take care of myself and my body with exercise, sleep and eating right, because if I do not, my body will revolt. I must save my energy and use it wisely.

I will not create an artificial front of pretending because of my loss but express my feelings as I work through my child’s death to the best of my ability.

I will remember that I did the very best parenting for my child and that my child knew it and loved me as much as I loved him.

I will use external resources when I feel hopeless or in need of help and not feel ashamed about it.

I will not expect everyone to understand and will try to be patient with those who don’t.

I will try to be happy about something at some time during every day so that eventually it will come naturally.

I will reach out and try to help someone else in pain, knowing it will also help me.

I will talk about my child always whether others feel uncomfortable or not. My child was the most important person in my life and I do not want him or her to be forgotten.

I will fight my way back to a meaningful life once again. That is what my child would have wanted for me.

Hope

My hope: that each of you will find peace in your heart, joy with your families and hope for the future. This holiday season I give to you this poem of hope I wrote recently, dedicated to my daughter, and wish you all a Merry Christmas, Happy Chanukah or whatever you personally celebrate worldwide.

Hope

As I look up to the sky,
during this holiday week,
a bright star shines down.
I feel it is you smiling at me,
telling me it is okay for me to laugh,
it is okay for me to be happy again.
I'm trying, I tell you.
It is not an easy road to travel
when you have lost the most
important thing in your life.
But my heart is full with love
from a wonderful man and many friends.
And, of course, I feel your love surround me
on this chilly December day.
It warms my heart and my body as always.
I keep busy and try to make a difference
in this world by helping others.
I do it for you, in your memory,
and I find it is a wonderful feeling.
I know you used to do it also,
you used to help close friends
and even strangers.
I look around me and see young people
enjoying the outdoors, running, playing,
wishing for a good snowfall.
I hear their laughter and their good wishes
for this holiday season.
I know there is hope for a better
world when I look into their eyes.
I wish I could share everything I say
and do with you, as I used to.
I miss you so much,
my beautiful daughter.
I think of you every minute of every
day and always will.
I want you to know, though,
that I always was a survivor
and will continue to be one
both for you and for me.
I love you, always and forever.

Mom

Todd's candle

The following is a portion of one mother’s beautiful story I discovered in a bereavement newsletter of how she thinks about and remembers her son during the holidays and all year long. I dedicate this week’s selection to her and all bereaved parents.

“Each night as darkness settles over our home, a little candle begins flickering in the east window of our staircase landing. The tiny light burns until dawn and then silently is quenched with the rising sun. This is my son’s light. About a year after Todd died, a suggestion was made to me to place a candle in the window for the holidays, as I had no inclination to decorate.

I placed a candle there, and I have now replaced that candle with yet another candle. This is Todd’s candle…this is Todd’s light.

Todd’s candle has a Victorian appearance and will burn steady or flicker. When the darkness comes forth, Todd’s candle begins its nightly vigil…a vigil that will not end until I am dead.

Although this is a small gesture, it has deep meaning for me. Sometimes I awaken in the middle of the night and walk into the atrium at the foot of the steps by the light of Todd’s candle. I’ll grab a glass of water and watch the candle flicker. Other times in the early evening, when only a reading lamp is lit in the living room, I will look into the atrium. Todd’s light shines. I feel as if he is with me somehow, in the light of this little candle. I think about him, his life, his joys, his sorrows, his immense capacity to love and to laugh. I feel a deep closeness to my son that cannot be explained to anyone but those who have lost a child. I understand that there is much peace and solace in keeping my child in my heart and life and in establishing my own private rituals of remembrance.

Leaving a candle in the window has been an American tradition since the Colonial Era. The candle symbolizes the warmth and security of the family home and its message is loyalty to a family member who is not present. So, it is fitting that Todd’s candle shines each night…reminding all that he is absent from our home, but not from our hearts.

Each of us has a ritual of remembrance of our child. Some of us have consciously established this. Others have unconsciously done so. But there is a ritual that brings our child close to us, only to us. Our rituals are a very personal choice. I chose not to share my ritual for 2 ½ years. Then one day a child who lives across the street asked me about the candle. I told her that it is my son’s candle. She asked if he was in Iraq. “No, I said, he’s in heaven.”

A momentary look of fright passed over her face, and then she smiled. “I thought you had kids. You act like a mom.” Her innocent comment about me “acting like a mom” once again reinforced the fact that we will always be parents. Those of us who have children who have died will always be parents to those children. That role has shaped who we are, and intensified it more with the death of our precious child.

This is one element of losing a child that escapes the general population. If you have not lost a child, you don’t understand, you can’t understand the feelings and emotions that run so deeply in our psyches and our souls…We know what pure and overwhelming grief really is.

When I gaze at Todd’s candle now, I remember his life, the security he felt within these walls, the growing up years, the love, loyalty and emotional stability he experienced as a child which enabled him to become a man of courage, self confidence and gentleness in the face of life’s worst and best.

Todd’s candle is one way to tell him that I love him as only a mother can love…unconditionally and forever. And I will always remember. I will always be Todd’s mom.

I have found that being a parent is a lifetime journey…even when our children are not with us on life’s road. As parents we define ourselves as interwoven with the fabric of our children’s lives. We always remember.”

by Annette Mennen Baldwin from Katy, Texas

Worldwide candlelighting event

A week from today, Sunday December 14, at 7 p.m. will be the 12th Annual Compassionate Friends Worldwide Candle Lighting as a tribute to a child who has died, as each time zone lights its candles. The scene is repeated thousands of times around the world and has captured the eye of the world like no other event of its type.

Patricia Loder, executive director of Compassionate Friends, says that this event shows that people from around the world can gather in peace and unity to remember all of the precious children who have died. This is TCF’s gift to the bereavement world and Pat says they are so happy that it has received such universal acceptance.

Visit the Worldwide Candle lighting page on TCF’s national website where there is a brochure with helpful suggestions on how to plan one of these services if none is held in your area. The national office can also be called toll free at 877-969-0010 for information for suggestions or where a service is being held in your area. If you are unable or do not wish to attend a formal service, you are asked simply to light a candle in your home with friends or family. In addition, you may leave a heartfelt message on TCF’s online Remembrance Book opened only on that day.

Last year I attended one of the Children’s Memorial Day Services at a local mortuary. Each year more and more parents attend as they become aware of its existence.

I remember it looked like almost 1,000 people attended on that cold December night in 2007. A variety of people read poems, favorite sayings and said prayers. We all got to file past the Angel of Hope as music played, and we were given white flowers to place at its base. As we made our way back to our seats, we each received a candle, which we lit. We were also given a very soft, cuddly teddy bear to hold on to (and keep) as the names of each child were read who were either buried in that cemetery or who had bought a plaque near the Angel honoring their child.

I could hear sniffling, sobbing and soft talking all around me. As I looked around, I could also see the anguish on the stunned faces of the parents who, in their wildest imagination, never dreamed they would be sitting here with the rest of us. Parents were of all ethnic, cultural and religious affiliations. We were one in that hour that we honored and remembered our children so they will never be forgotten.

Many allied organization joined in the remembrance such as POMC, MISS, MADD and BPUSA. In addition to funeral homes, churches, hospice and local bereavement groups, as well as informal groups meeting in many communities, participation was high.

This ceremony is a powerful message to the world. Wouldn’t it be even more powerful if we could get everyone once a year on this special day to light a candle for all children who have died? I hope that this year you will be able to participate in some way on this memorable day.