Thanksgiving Memories

Thanksgiving has not been a fun or favorite holiday of mine for many, many years, but it is getting better with new additions to my family.

At first, I used to love the holiday. Although not that fond of turkey, I never had to worry. My mom always cooked the turkey and dinner and all I had to do was eat it! Easy enough. I must admit that I’ve never cooked a turkey for Thanksgiving in my entire life! Oh, I’ve cooked parts—a breast, a wing and many, many thighs, (my favorite part of the turkey). When my mom died, I still didn’t cook Thanksgiving. Either my sister-in-law did or my husband, at the time, prepared the turkey. I did the trimmings.

One of the last times I saw my family together was Thanksgiving, 1992, when my daughter and her fiance, drove to Tucson from Los Angeles to celebrate with us. Everyone was in a great mood. Always a fair kid, I was informed this was my year for Thanksgiving; next year they would go to her Dad’s in Phoenix. Little did she know that I was not cooking the turkey! The man of the house was doing it and did a great job! We kidded about the engaged couple sleeping in a trundle bed. “Don’t you know,” my daughter said, “that engaged and/or married couples like to sleep in the same bed, close together, not in twin beds.” I replied, “You’re close enough; you’re not married yet! And unless you want to sleep on the floor, this is the only other bedding in the house!” (To this day, it remains the only other bedding in my home, but with new mattresses.)

It was a festive weekend. I did not know it would be my mother’s last weekend alive. She died from heart failure the following week, not much older than I am now. How was I to know that my daughter would only have another year and a half to live before tragedy struck our family again after another holiday season and wedding celebrations, my daughter’s and her best friend’s.

As we celebrate every year, we are always thankful for our health, our families, our comfortable life. But the death of a child changes all that. I do not celebrate Thanksgiving as a festive day anymore. Sure, if invited, I go to a friend’s home, but when I hear others talk about their child, see their grandchildren and hear what they did recently, I always wish they would ask about a story or just mention my child, who they all knew and loved and who also lived a wonderful life for as long as she could. Sure, I wish she was still here, enjoying everyone and everything, but it was not to be.

I do, however, give thanks for what I do have now: a new husband of 10 years, a new step-daughter, who couldn’t be more like my own (born in the same month and on the same day), and recently, her new son, my first grandson, as her proud father, my husband, says to me, “I know you’ll never get over your own loss (and I wouldn’t expect you to), but I’m so glad I could help a little, fill the hole in your heart.”

Happy Thanksgiving to all. Celebrate as best you can with those you love.

Giving Back

Two people who feel that Compassionate Friends has given them their lives back after the death of two of their three children is Jacquin Edwards-Mitchell and John Mitchell. Even though they lost two children, they say they gained a family of thousands, referring to the TCF community.

Fortunately they didn’t let their children’s death destroy their their lives. Both children died by drowning 22 years ago and yet they still attend meetings and try to help others who are going through their grief journey. John and Jacquin run the Manhattan, New York, chapter, going twice a month.

Their two boys were swimming one day and the older one hit his head on the side of the pool. The younger boy dove in the water and tried to save him but to no avail and also died in the attempt. 

They didn’t think they would survive this devastation. Someone told them about Compassionate Friends and they attended their first meeting, feeling a camaraderie with those who had lost a child.

When asked how they survived that first year, the answer was “One day at a time.”

 “Grief doesn’t just go away,” said Jacquin. “You don’t wake up one night and think you are all better. It’s a lifetime struggle and you need other people. You can’t do it alone.” In the first year one needs support--someone to call in the middle of the night who understands what you are going through. The Mitchells try to help those in need through this difficult time. She emphasized that if one chapter of TCF doesn’t work for you, go to another one. Shop around to find the best fit for your needs.

John tries to help men in grief, while Jacquin works on the board of directors of TCF. Someone was there for them and now they want to be there for others. 

Gloria Horsley, grief specialist, says it feels good to help others, and it gives you a chance to give back.

“At TCF you are surrounded by love,” said Alan Pedersen, executive director of TCF.

Whatever you decide is best for your needs, take that first step and you will find that after a while, you will be helping others like yourself. I know it is true. I have given back by speaking at TCF National Conferences and making new friends with those who sought help. It is very rewarding, and in the process of helping others, I also helped myself. 

The Earthquake

Out of the blue one day last week, someone brought up the 1994 Northridge Earthquake in the Los Angeles area. Oh, yes, that was part of a heartbreaking year, when my daughter was in a fatal car crash. Remembering that year, the earthquake triggers some fond memories, certainly not of the damage, destruction and death of many people, but of what transpired that morning of January 17. I received a phone call from my daughter asking if I had heard the news. I looked at the bedside clock which read 6:30 a.m. and said, “No, I was sleeping. What happened?” My daughter told me they had just experienced an earthquake of around 6.1 where she lived with her husband in Sherman Oaks, and she was under the kitchen table!” “Don’t worry, she said, we’re all right, and I called to let you know that.” (Always so thoughtful and considerate). I smiled. “Nothing was damaged,” she continued, but she called me first and needed to make another call to her dear friend’s mother in Tucson to let her know that her daughter was on the East Coast that week and that she didn’t have to worry about her. “Okay, I said. “I’m glad you called me.”

When my daughter died two months later, her friend’s mother came to the funeral. She said it was because she wanted to face me and let me know what a special daughter I had and how much she appreciated that call two months earlier. To myself I said, I know she was special, but it was still great hearing it from others.

All that month and for many after, I received many cards and letters telling me how special she was to others, and it always warmed my heart. Many years later, I even heard from her first boyfriend, who I think always had special feelings for her even after she broke up with him. He told me that it had taken him a long time to get up the courage to write me to let me know how much she meant to him and still does. He reminisced about many events we all shared, again bringing back wonderful memories for both of us.

Every time I hear someone mention 1994, I always associate it with the death of my daughter. It could be a casual remark someone makes about the O.J. Simpson murders, a marriage, a divorce, the death of a well-known personality such as Nixon or Jacqueline Kennedy, a sports team winning a championship or a statistic comparing the population growth then and now. My heart skips a beat when that year is mentioned, even now, more than 22 years later. I want to shout, “Hey, my daughter was beautiful inside and out, and I don’t want her to be forgotten.”  I know I never will.

Because of all the people who loved her, I know that will never happen. And I have made sure of that through all the meaningful things I have done in her memory including setting up a perpetual foundation to give financial aid to college students to finish their degrees.

Not a day goes by that I don’t think of my daughter, who died far too young. She had so much to do, so much to give…And after the pain that accompanies memories of people long since gone, I remember all the good times and the wonderful people I have met while I try to help others deal with their loss as I know my daughter would have wanted to do.

Writer Found Grief Books Helpful With Personal Loss

I  found that when my daughter died, I didn’t want to go to bereavement groups and listen to everyone who sat in a circle, crying and telling their story. It was very sad seeing and listening to those people, and I wanted to do something to lift myself up, not dig a deeper hole that I could crawl into and feel safe. I turned to books also, grief books that had ideas and passages I could identify with. Not all books were helpful, but as I read everything I could get my hands on at the time (and there wasn’t that much in 1994) I could say, “yes, I feel that way too” or “no, I don’t agree with that.”

Everyone has his own way of facing the grief that comes with losing someone you love. Writer Alex Weiss found that books helped him deal with personal loss in eight important ways.

Here are Weiss’ eight ways books helped him heal from loss. I agree with most of what he says. See if you can relate also. Remember, this is a summary of his thoughts only.

Books reminded me I wasn’t alone. I could find similarities in characters who dealt with death who felt lost and confused. It helped me feel less lonely and made me realize just how many possible realities are out there, how many people deal with what I’m going through, and that I’m certainly not alone in how I feel.

Books showed me there are so many things worth living for. When you lose someone you love, it can seem as if the entire idea of living worthless. But it didn’t take long for books to show me how many beautiful things exist in the world and the millions of paths one can take. Even though positive outcomes are hard to imagine during loss, books showed me there will always be something worth living for.

Books didn’t bullsh*t the hard stuff. Guidance counselors, therapists and friends all try so hard to make things better when you lose someone. The human instinct is to reassure a person in pain that it will get better. But when every part of you hurts, that isn’t exactly what you need to hear. What you do need is for someone to tell you the truth of how sucky this is, and that’s exactly what some authors and characters showed me.

Books showed me how to process emotions in a healthy way.  Books helped me realize how important it is to focus on each emotion – heartache, anxiety, inspiration, growth—ort through them and really try to understand why I’m feeling the way I am. And that in itself is a life lesson worth learning whether you’ve experienced personal loss or not.

Books taught me that a short life isn’t a bad life. One of the things I struggled with most is that this person close to me hadn’t been able to live out the amazing life she/he deserved. It took a few books that dealt with death and the loss o young lives that made me realize it doesn’t matter how many years you have, it matters most in how you live them.

Books inspired me to learn and grow from loss. Books gave me a reason to actively search for good in the world, and ever since, I’ve been committed to taking time out of every day to stop, look and find something to smile or be grateful about. Experiencing death takes a different toll on everyone, and while the lessons may not appear right away like they do in books, you will grow and take something positive away.

Books have never made me feel bad for feeling bad. This is probably the most powerful and important lesson I got out of reading a lot during my stages of grief. When years started to pass but I still felt the pain of loss just as strongly, if not worse, my friends and family around me didn’t feel as approachable. I started to feel bad for feeling bad, as if there’s something wrong with me and I should just move on already. The thing is, books never told me there was a time limit. They told me it was okay to feel bad, that it was okay to feel happy, that it was okay to move on when it felt right to me, and not to move on when it wasn’t. Books empowered me then, and they continue to do so every time I pick one up—and I can’t imagine my life without them.

Recent Comments On My Blog Postings

Editor's Note: I really appreciate the comments sent to me about my blogs. At the end of most of the comments is the name of the blog read and commented on and some have given me their real names. This year at the national TCF conference I even met some of you. So many bereaved parents and each one reacts differently to their loss. I wish it was possible to talk to and see all of you, but that is not possible. I hope that you have found some way of coping now and that some of what I've said in my over 460 blogs has led you to a more positive look at your situation. I'm sorry that I had to suspend comments directly on the site, but I was getting unnecessary spam. If you'd like a personal answer, you can send me an email. The email address is on the right side of each blog.          Sandy Fox

I cannot move beyond the loss of my son. on Grief chat rooms and email support

Maggi Crowston-Boaler

on 8/17/16

Our son was diagnosed with Duchene muscular dystrophy when he was six.My wife was pregnant (one month) and we had another daughter. We discovered my wife is a carrier and we know both our daughters are carriers too,HE died when he was 15 She carries a lot of guilt with her.The pain s ever present, i can crack up at just the mention of his name and our marriage such as it is, could not get much more sterile on The divorce rate

We lost our sixteen year old daughter to suicide ,with her being our only child ,it has been extremely tough we have been married 20+ years , grief has played a big factor in my wife wanting a divorce after three months of losing our daughter, I was completely caught off guard when she told me , I have had to leave it to god to help with both losses , there is good days and not as good but we all must get up try to go about life & I am a believer that time will help heal , our loved one will always be in our heart.

Anonymous.

on 7/23/16

I am a single parent that lost my only child in sept 2015 and i can honestly say this is the only thing that actually made sence. Gave me a silver lining in some ways. Thank you on Coping As a Single Bereaved Parent

Anonymous

on 7/20/16

We lost our son eight years ago. Your words resonate completely with my own experience of loss and grief. My son will be with me forever, and ever. Thanks for your post! on My New Reality

Red Rivers

on 4/20/16

Sandy, May I include this article and the information you're providing in the Piedmont, VA TCF chapter newsletter??? I will attribute it, of course. onKnot My Baby and First Candle Organizations to Help the Bereaved

Peggi Johnson

on 3/23/16

My email is sophiesthomas@gmail.com on Valentine's Day 2016

Sophie

on 2/14/16

Hey Sandy, I would love to interview you about your books for an article I am writing on grief. Do you have an email I may reach? on Valentine's Day 2016

Sophie

on 2/14/16

Thank-you. on Class Reunion Jitters

Debbie

on 10/23/15

My daughter passed away in January and I am still learning how to answer that awful question: how many children do you have? I don't want to tell the truth and ruin someone's day, but I don't want to lie and do a disservice to her memory. I applaud you for being honest and for honouring your daughter. One day I hope to do the same, at the moment all I do is change the subject... Love and strength to you ❤️ on Class Reunion Jitters

Beyond_Tears

on 10/3/15

I agree, as a trama therapist, fellow blogger, and someone who recently lost a 22 year old, I find that I sometimes feel responsible for holding other peopl';s grief. Silence is golden on Calling On the Bereaved

Simply Pine

on 9/24/15

We are approaching one year since our baby girl was taken from us. I created a blog to try and write about my feelings since I have a hard time talking in person about them. Is this something that is healthy to do? Would you mind reading it and letting me know what you think? I'm just trying to find ways to cope. http://memoriesofallie.blogspot.com/ on Calling On the Bereaved

Nicholas Rebant

on 9/21/15

Hi Sandy, I am an author publicist and wanted to know if I could send you offers for free review copies of books on grief, when available, seeking editorial/review on your touching site? Thanks, Beck on Richard Edler Words of Wisdom

Beck Willem

on 9/9/15

Awwwww Thank You!!!! I had a great Great Chat with a mom last night her name is NANCY.......Your blog is great!!!! Call me lets chat....... 503 901 7900 on Tears To Triumph-Creating With Sea Glass

Deb Hart

on 8/11/15

Wonderful posting, Sandy!! on Supportive Husbands

Peggi Johnson

on 7/21/15

September 11, Fifteen Years Later

Today, September 11, is the 15^th anniversary of the most horrific terror event to ever occur on U.S. soil, the fall of the twin World Trade Center towers. I can tell you where I was on that day at that hour as I’m sure millions of people can. It is a day we will never forget.

I had arrived in New York at 3 a.m. that morning (my plane from Phoenix had mechanical problems and was 5 hours late). I checked into a Days Inn Hotel in Newark, N.J. and awoke around 9 a.m., turned on the TV and saw what was happening.

I was in New York and New Jersey to publicize my new book on surviving grief, “I Have No Intention of Saying Good-bye,” that had just been published. I had contacted bookstores in the area and a TV station, where I was going to be interviewed. Needless to say, the interview didn’t happen that day, nor for the next seven days that I was stuck in the area because of plane cancellations. Too much was going on, and the TV station was kind enough to let me come back months later for the interview. The bookstores and compassionate friends groups where I was to speak let me go on with the show. But as you can guess, the bookstores were quite empty; everyone was at home or visiting those they knew who were part of the tragedy. The compassionate friends groups had a good turnout and most commented as to how timely my book was then.

A few days after getting home I was contacted by the FBI and asked if I had seen anything that night or the next morning. I hadn’t. It turns out that one of the hijackers was right next door to me. Pretty scary!

We now have a beautiful, poignant memorial in place along with a museum and many memories. Thousands come every day to see it and especially on 9/11 to honor those killed, first responders and everyone who helped to save lives in the aftermath. In the classroom teachers are utilizing age-appropriate lesson plans and teaching students about the importance of remembering 9/11. On social media, you can share your acts of commemoration, tributes and/or messages of remembrance with hashtag #Honor911 or be part of the volunteer efforts.

Since 2001, individuals and organizations have responded to 9/11 with service and volunteer efforts, many supporting the philanthropic wishes and interests of those killed on 9/11. In 2009, this work was formally acknowledged and supported with the establishment of the September 11 National Day of Service and Remembrance. Organized by the Corporation for National and Community Service (CNRS), a federal agency, the official page can be found here: serve.gov/sept11.asp . Download tool kits for the National Day of Service and Remembrance that offer resources for "do-it-yourself" and age-appropriate discussions around service and 9/11.

It is dedicated to keeping alive the spirit of unity and compassion that arose in response to the 9/11 attacks. They promote the annual observance of September 11 as a day of charitable service and doing good deeds. Many ways exist for you to get involved on this day.

In the museum, the memorial exhibition, In Memoriam, commemorates the lives of those who perished on September 11, 2001 and provides visitors with the opportunity to learn about the men, women and children who died. Visitors enter the exhibition along a corridor in which portrait photographs of the nearly 3,000 victims form a "Wall of Faces," communicating the scale of human loss.

Nearby, touchscreen tables allow visitors to discover additional information about each person, including photographs, images of objects and audio remembrances by family, friends and coworkers. Rotating selections of personal artifacts are also featured. An inner chamber presents profiles of individual victims in a dignified sequence through photographs, biographical information and audio recordings.

If you have something you’d like to contribute to the museum, get in touch with  them.

My Daughter At 50

My daughter’s birthday recently passed. She would have been 50-years-old this year, born in 1966. I thought it was a special occasion, even though she died 22 ½ years ago. And 1966 seems like an eternity ago. I wanted to do something to remember her on this special day, but realized I am content for now to reminisce on my own and feel her arms wrapped around me as we said goodbye the last time I saw her at her friend’s wedding.

I know of some bereaved mothers who have a party every year and invite the child’s friends. There is cake, drinks and a balloon release. Then they talk about what they remember. But that was not my style. So I did what I’ve done every year on her birthday. I went to the cemetery, cleaned off her stone and spoke a few words about how much I missed her and loved her. It makes me feel good to do this, as I am the only one who is left in our family that is able to.

As I approached the plaque in the ground this year, I realized someone else had also been there. There was a huge stone sitting on the top signifying to me that someone else also remembered this special day and wanted everyone who passed by to understand that. You can’t imagine how good that made me feel, even though I don’t know, and probably never will, who it was that was there.

This quiet cemetery allows me to go back in time, to remember all the good times—and there were so many—that we had and to tell her what I’ve been up to. She loved traveling, and so do I. I tell her we went on a cruise to the Baltic countries this summer, although I know she died before she could travel there. Last year I went to a Greek Island that was her favorite and tried to immerse myself in the culture to see what she loved so much about it. I discovered it was special in Crete. There is one thing I do when I travel—I take her with me in one form or another. It could be a necklace I wear with her picture on it, or her favorite ring. And at each stop, if there is a beautiful church or synagogue, I go inside and light a candle for her or just say a prayer.

She also loved people, particularly all her friends, and they in turn loved her. When she died I received hundreds of letters and notes about how she was the glue that held everyone together, that she was a kind and thoughtful soul that helped others when needed, that she was a free spirit, and that when she found the person she wanted to spend the rest of her life with, she was content and happy. All parents would like to know this of their child, and I was lucky enough to have that knowledge.

I think that if I called some of her friends and shared special moments, pictures, and reminisced about her short life, they, in turn, could also share what they remember. That would make this birthday very special. Perhaps one day soon I will do that.

Loss of an Adopted Child

Loss of an adopted child is just as heartbreaking as it would be if the person had given birth herself, according to Peggi Johnson, bereaved mother of 19 year old Jordan, who in 2009 died by suicide. She says she has no idea what happened to trigger his death.

When Peggi realized she couldn’t have children, they went another route: not an agency but a private adoption through a lawyer. She retired from her corporate career and devoted herself to motherhood full time.

Peggi knew who the birth mother was and kept in contact with her for a long time sending pictures and letters about Jordan’s progress as he grew up. But, according to Peggi, the birth mother was erratic in picking up the annual letters and Peggi stopped sending them until the birth mother contacted an attorney and  Peggi updated her again, putting together a package for her. When Jordan died, Peggi and the attorney were unable to contact her for two years but she eventually found out and was very angry. “I wrote a letter of explanation and the attorney handled it.”

Peggi adopted both of her children, a boy and a girl, Jordan and Claire, who is now almost 25. Only approximately two percent of children are adopted. According to Peggi, there are those parents who adopt and also have their own children, for whatever reason they choose. She emphasized there is no difference in how you feel about those who are placed with you and those children who are your own. They are loved equally, she believes.

Growing up Jordan was a quiet boy but smart. He had a lot of close friends who were crazy about him, according to Peggi. “He did not have an impulsive bone in his body. I loved him beyond measure and miss him beyond measure as well every minute of every hour of every day.”

Some of the things he loved were castles, wolves, beanie babies, dinosaurs and Harry Potter. He was an avid reader who adored David Eddings, Robert Jordan JR Tolkien, J.K. Rowling, Gorge R.R. Martin, and Ursula LeGuin. He was devoted to his sister, his dog Cassie, his neighbors, his cousins and his youth group. His life was enriched by teachers. He took a PB&J sandwich to school every day through 12th grade!

Peggi and her husband, Jeff, didn’t try to “imprint” and she believe most parents are like this. In other words, she said, “We want to know how they turn out on their own. If my husband and I loved football, we wouldn’t try to force it on Jordan. Children need to make their own decisions about what they want to do with their life. My son was introverted; I tried to be his advocate and let him do and be what he wanted on his own terms.”

Her other child, Claire, always wanted to find her real parents, particularly after Jordan died. “I was supportive about her finding as much family as possible,” said Peggi. Claire now knows her birth mother and has met with her several times. They will be visiting soon again and Claire will meet, for the first time, other close relatives. She is very excited about this, but, as Peggi says, “It doesn’t take away from how she and Claire feel about each other.

“The most important part of being a parent is unconditional love,” she says. “And I did give both my children unconditional love.”

Complications arise when the child dies, because you feel responsible that you were entrusted with this child and you couldn’t keep the child alive. “I don’t think I have healed,” says Peggi. “I think I have a limb that has been permanently amputated, and I try to do the best I can with it. I try to make my life meaningful, productive and helpful to others. That’s the best I’ve got. I endure it as well as I can. I don’t mope around.”

Peggi is a hospice volunteer, writes articles for TCF and presents workshops at the national conferences. She has talked about adopted children at three previous conferences. She and her husband are both active in their local TCF chapter in Virginia, enjoy being with other bereaved parents and do everything they can to honor Jordan.

Medical Error Death

When Your Child Dies Due To a Medical Error (workshop)

Improving patient safety is now the goal of Tanya Lord after her 4-year-old child, Noah, died due to a medical error during a routine tonsillectomy in 1999.

Parents may be tormented by unanswered questions and a new distrust of the medical profession. The guilt and grief fills these parents and makes them ask, “What could we have done differently?” They have a desire and passion to help change the system that has hurt them. “How can we cope with the reality of losing someone to a medical error?” she asks.

Statistics show that 98,000-144,000 people die from medical errors each year. It is the third leading cause of death right after heart disease and cancer. Most of these deaths are communication errors, according to Tanya.

The unanswered questions include: What happened? Who is to blame? What did I do wrong? Why did this happen? What were they thinking? And did they know what they were doing?

To find answers you need to access medical records, meet with medical staff and contact patient advocates. Sometimes there are no answers and no one to blame. “The whole system may be broken,"  said Tanya.

“Since my son died, I am always uncomfortable; I avoid going to doctors and hospitals,” she said. “I no longer think that they know more than I do. I worry and question a lot more.”

“Then there is the guilt,” she added. “What could I have done differently; I let my son down; I should have protected him better; I should have known better.”

Even if you do everything “right” it may happen again. There is a need to trust. And what do you do when you know they are wrong? You can try to sue them, but you may not get very far.“For your own peace of mind, try to forgive,” said Tanya.

What’s not known is that they’re trying to fix things. Many hospitals have started a patient/family advisory council. Tanya is on that council. She has the opportunity to change things now after going back to school and getting her doctorate.

“A lot of good is happening; volunteers are forcing changes in the system.” Although it may not be your hospital, your voice could help others,” she added.

Tanya was a special education teacher when Noah died as a result of medical error. Determined to better understand and work towards improving health care, she went back to school and got her master’s degree in public health and a Phd in clinical and population health research. She is currently the director of Patient Family Engagement for the state of New Hampshire and consults with local and national healthcare systems to improve communication, patient safety and patient engagement.

Keeping notes and letters about Marcy

When my daughter died, I received so many cards and letters of support in the mail. It was suggested to me that I keep them all and make a folio of them to look back on. I thought it a good idea and set to work diligently to make it happen. I am the type of person once I get something in my mind to do and I like the idea, it’s a done deal! Perhaps doing something like this would work for you and be something nice to look back on.

I felt most of the notes and letters were very powerful, telling a story of Marcy that even I didn’t know…how she was the one who held people together, how she was the one who helped those in need, how she was the one who lent a hand of kindness to all who were close to her, how she was a great leader and organizer, how she was like a sister to all and had a big heart and constant smile…

One friend remembers the spaghetti face kid, sitting in her high chair, covered with spaghetti, as was the entire kitchen. She was so proud of what she had done. Her little face displayed pride and humor. Even at that young age, she knew what she was doing. She did it well, she did it with humor and she did it with excellence, perfection and character. 

Another friend told a funny story about her engagement ring. “I just made him take me to Tiffany’s first and then every place else seemed so reasonable!” A parent of one of her friends had to tell me that on the day of the L.A. earthquake in ’94, Marcy called the mother to tell her not to worry, her daughter was on the east coast. The mother thought that was so sweet of her to do when she should have been worried about her own safety.

A couple of other examples of letters received included some people who celebrated Marcy’s life by going out to her favorite places, lighting candles at the accident site, and bringing flowers. Others said how much they learned from her about living life to the fullest and enjoying every minute of it. One friend said she liked to think that Marcy’s supreme logic will continue to guide her through life and that, as she writes this note, she knows Marcy is in a wonderful place—probably finding a fourth for tennis.

Some people sent photos of themselves with Marcy at parties, on trips and at work. Her energy kept everyone going at work, writes another and she was never afraid to try anything new. Her enthusiastic ways, leadership qualities, positive attitude and generosity of spirit were admired by all.

All these notes and letters were at first a comfort, and a realization I had a great kid. They inspired me to write my first book on surviving grief. I used a few of the comments to emphasize her personality and all her goodness. I now know that her life had great meaning, that she had many friends and that in death she would always be remembered. Her boss from where she worked said it best, “If you were a friend of Marcy’s, you were a friend for life.”