Wednesday's Woe - Six Years of Grief

Wednesday's Woe

Six Years of Grief

Six years of grief,

There is some relief,

But no matter the year,

My baby's still not here...

Constant reminders as I shed each and ev'ry tear.

My life will never be the same

As I bear a Mother's most dreaded pain,

But I feel her walking near me

As I climb the steep terrain of faith's journey,

Needing God to ever steer me

Lest my grief completely impair me.

Six years of grief now ~

With God's help, still surviving somehow...

Six years of grief,

Putting one foot in front of the other,

The slow, grueling life of a Child-Loss grieving mother.

Pictures, thanks to Google Images

Poem - Six Years of Grief - Angie Bennett Prince - 8/1/2012

Tuesday's Trust - Can We Still Trust Our Judgment… Six Years Later?

Tuesday's Trust

Can We Still Trust Our Judgment… Six Years Later?

It is hard to put words on this dynamic of our grieving life ~ it is almost indescribable because it is difficult even to define it to ourselves. We are still working out our "ability/inability to function" amidst our traumatic grief. We have to work hard at keeping our lives "simplified" as we cannot do "complicated" anymore. For lack of better words, we cannot do "Toxic," "Stupid," "Idiot," or "Needless Drama." As I said to Tommy last night,

"Trauma Mamas" need to stay away from "Drama Mamas"!

It's as though we still are discovering/trying to define the different parameters for that which we can and cannot handle emotionally.

Almost automatically, we will think, "Oh yeah, sure, I can do that!" Then we step back and think, "Oh yeah! I can't do that anymore ~ I forgot!" What we can and cannot do is still a learning/discovery process as we tend to think we can so do much more than we really can these days. The trust in others, and even in ourselves, is not there. Even trusting our own judgment is a little shaky ~ Who are we, and what can we really do now?

It is almost like stepping back and examining the ruins, and saying, "Okay, what is salvageable, and what must be thrown away? And with the equipment and accoutrements that are left, what can we feasibly do now?"

For instance, what I do know right now is that...

I cannot explain to a grieving mother why I cannot talk to her right now.

I cannot explain to the executors of my parents' wills why I cannot come by and negotiate the pick-up of the furniture that's graciously been given to me.

I cannot explain to my children why I cannot do extended-family get togethers.

All I know is... I can't. 

And for now, just knowing that 'I can't,' is in itself quite an accomplishment!

And yet, I can still help clients deal with their own toxic issues and relationships. (Explain that!)

Picture, thanks to Grieving Mothers

Piano picture, via "Detroit ruins"

Saturday's Sayings - A Child-Loss Mother Writes ~ The Past 10 Years of Grief... ~Rebecca R. Carney

Saturday's Sayings

A Child-Loss Mother Writes ~

The Past 10 Years of Grief...

~Rebecca R. Carney

A Few Things I've Learned in the 10 Years Since Jason Died

(excerpts from)

by © 2012 Rebecca R. Carney

Posted on February 23, 2012

from Rebecca R. Carney's *blog: Grief: One Woman's Perspective

1. You can survive the death of a child.
2. I will never “get over” the death of my child. The death of a child tears the very fabric of a parent’s life. It alters everything – hopes, dreams, future, present, faith, reality, relationships…the list could go on and on. I have had to learn how to live without Jason and integrate his loss into the very fabric of my being, and I will continue that process by varying degrees for the rest of my life.
3. Integrating the death of a child into the fabric of one’s life takes much longer than anyone would think. Have you ever seen photos of people wandering around neighborhoods after a huge tornado or hurricane? They look lost, dazed, and in shock. They talk about not being able to locate any familiar landmarks; the landscape looks foreign. Everything they once possessed and knew as familiar is scattered to who-knows-where. That’s sort of what it’s like to lose a child. Jason’s death changed the entire landscape of my life and altered my whole world forever. I felt lost, dazed, and in shock. It’s not logical to think that the time frame for integrating such a huge loss into our lives will be short. It’s not logical to think that a bereaved parent can march through the "five step" grief process on a schedule. If someone wants to look at a loose (and I mean very loose) time frame, I would say the following: There are no words to describe the pain of the first year; it’s like a limb has been torn off with no anesthetic. It’s excruciating, raw agony. Don’t expect the bereaved parent to be “over” the death of a child in the first year. The second year may be worse than the first as the bereaved parent grapples with the permanent reality of his/her child’s death. Any numbness has worn off – all that’s left is stark reality of having to live a life without his/her child. The years 2-5 involve the process and hard work of integrating the loss into the fabric of one’s daily life, of finding and becoming familiar with a “new normal,” of becoming familiar with the life that is now yours and the person you now are. It’s never a straight path; it’s windy, up and down, backward and forward. The years 6-10 are a continued integration of the loss and building on the foundation of the first five years. It’s a process that keeps continuing on and on. Perhaps if we – the bereaved parent and those around them – look at the grieving process in terms of years instead of days, weeks, or months, we would be able to remove unreasonable expectations and the pressure of a time limit, and be allowed to simply grieve the loss of our precious child in a more natural manner.
4. Some bereaved parents struggle with their faith. I really struggled with my faith after Jason died; I didn’t understand why God didn’t protect Jason. I didn’t understand why “God’s people” were not there for us when we needed them so badly. I still don’t really understand. I prayed and prayed for our kids, for their protection, for their friends. There are just some things that we can only see through a glass darkly now and to which we will only know the answers once we get to heaven. The roots of my faith are deep and well-established. I know that, although my faith is alive, it does not look the same as it once did.
5. People don’t know what to do or say to a bereaved parent. Sometimes people say or do nothing; they just back away or disappear. Sometimes they say things that, while meaning to be helpful, actually cause additional pain. When a bereaved parent’s heart is so raw, these secondary wounds tend to hurt much more than they would ordinarily and add additional layers of pain on top of an already terribly grieving heart. I found myself hypersensitive in many ways and deeply hurt by the actions/inactions of others. It hurt horrendously to be left so alone by people we counted on for support. It hurt even more to see my family so alone and hurting. It hurt to reach out for help, only to feel like my hand was slapped away. But I have learned over the years that I need to extend grace to people and let it go. I have to admit it took me a while to reach that point of being able and willing to extend grace because I was so hurt, raw and wounded. I continue to remind myself that it’s not an easy thing to be around a bereaved parent – or to know what to do or say. I feel like I have a lot of scar tissue on my heart from those experiences. I still tend to hunker down behind the walls I built as I tried to protect my broken heart from further wounds. I don’t believe in the same concept of friendship as I used to. But I will continue to try to extend grace to the best of my ability. I am far from perfect and don’t always succeed, but I will continue to try.
6. Most people will never understand deep grief…until it happens to them. No matter how often I have tried to explain or promote understanding, some people will never understand. Some have no interest. Some think they have it figured out…for me. Some relate it to the death of their relative, dog, or divorce. They don’t understand that the death of a child is singularly and profoundly the most difficult crisis a parent could face. Some try to understand or try to imagine what losing a child would be like, but unless someone has actually “been there,” it’s just imagination.
7. Kindness, support, caring, hugs, love – all of these matter. Taking time to remember Jason matters. Writing down memories or sending us pictures of Jason for us matters. Letting us know you haven’t forgotten Jason matters. Not feeling forgotten matters. I remember the kindnesses….
8. Your address book changes. People may disappear – sometimes right away, sometimes down the line. Sometimes people couldn’t understand why I had changed; they were waiting for me to “get over” my grief and come back as I once was. People got “tired of our troubles” or thought I should be able to move on sooner than I was able. If I didn’t or couldn’t move at their timetable or respond adequately to their efforts to move me on, they moved on without me. One friend who had a decent amount of support following the death of a child said to me, “Now that I’m ready to do things, there’s no one left to do anything with.”
9. I am not the person I once was. The death of a child changes a parent forever. My life is divided into the “before” and “after.” The person I was “before” is not the same one who now is in the “after.” Neither I nor those around me should expect me to return to that person or to respond as I once did. Part of the grief process involves getting to know and becoming comfortable with the person I now am.
10. Wherever I go, my grief goes with me. We sold our house and moved across the country, but the grief of Jason’s death and having his loss be a part of my life was not something I left behind. Running away from grief doesn’t work. Even if one is able to push it down or set it aside for a while, at some point it will rise to the surface and demand its due attention.
11. Siblings pay a huge price. Not only do siblings lose a precious brother or sister, they may lose their support system. Parents, as they grieve the loss of a child, may no longer be able to be the strong support system on which the sibling could rely. The surviving sibling may feel the need to be strong in order to support his/her parents. Friends may avoid, act awkward, or disappear. At 17, although she did nothing wrong, our daughter paid a huge price for Jason’s death. As Patricia Hung (a police officer whose 14-year old daughter was murdered) commented in response to a previous post, “…our other children were shunned, too, as if they had anything to do with their sister’s murder. It was very difficult when people stopped letting their children play with ours – like being punished AGAIN for something they weren’t responsible for.”
12. Bereaved parents have to teach others how to help. As crazy as it may seem, even though we were dealing the huge loss created by Jason’s death, I found myself in the position of having to teach other people how to help us. It wasn’t an easy thing to do, especially when we didn’t know what we needed or how to help ourselves many times. I didn’t have any resources concerning being a parent whose child had died. I had no answers. I’m glad to see that there is much more valuable information now – both in print form and online – concerning how to help bereaved parents and those who suffer deep losses. It’s important for bereaved parents to shine a light on the topic of grief.
13. Take your time in going through and getting rid of your child’s things. I felt pushed to go through Jason’s room and “get rid of” stuff before I was ready. This is one thing I wish I had done differently – on my own time schedule, when I was ready. Suggestion: Unless there is an urgent need, don’t hurry or allow yourself to be pushed to get rid of your child’s things. Once you get rid of them, you usually can never get them back. If you rush, you may regret your decisions later. When you feel you are ready, purchase a bunch of Rubbermaid-type tubs that seal well and some Ziploc bags. As you sort, put things you want to keep or things you are unsure about into the bags and tubs. Then store the tubs in a garage or safe place. You can then go back later – perhaps even many years later – and make more objective decisions (decisions you won’t regret) on what to do with your child’s belongings.
14. Exercise helps. Joe and I would take our dog, Brandy, and head out for a walk every so often. It got us out of the house and really helped us to get some exercise and fresh air. I am also so grateful for my friend Mary who, even though we didn’t really know each other well at the time, kept asking me if I wanted to walk regularly with her. I finally took her up on her offer six months after Jason died. Over time, we became good friends. She saved my life in more ways than one. Not only did our walks give me something to look forward to and a precious friendship, but (because I had developed the habit of taking very shallow breaths in order to deal with the pain and grief) it forced me to concentrate on my health and to force more air into my lungs.

*Rebecca R. Carney's blog: http://onewomansperspective02.wordpress.com

For Rebecca's full blog post, go to:

http://onewomansperspective02.wordpress.com/2012/02/23/a-few-things-ive-learned-in-the-10-years-since-jason-died/

COPYRIGHT

© Rebecca R. Carney and Grief: One Woman's Perspective (onewomansperspective02.wordpress.com), 2012. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Rebecca R. Carney and Grief: One Woman's Perspective (onewomansperspective02.wordpress.com), with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Wednesday's Woe - To Spend Life Grieving... What to Do, Now?

Wednesday's Woe

To Spend Life Grieving...

What to Do, Now?

My heart's been ripped out. Of what use

Am I to You Lord, now?

I don't mean t' be slow, or obtuse,

But now, ~ t' cope through death ~ how?!

My heart is ripped out, pulverized.

There is no way to cope.

Former innocence scandalized,

I'm hanging on to hope.

Life is short. Death is long...

To spend life grieving seems so wrong.

But there is nothing I can do

But, my Lord, lean. on. You.

Poem - To Spend Life Grieving: What to Do, Now? - Angie Bennett Prince - 3/10/2011

Tuesday's Trust - Will Life Ever Move Beyond "Functional Griever" for Us Child-Loss Grievers?

Tuesday's Trust

Will Life Ever Move Beyond

"Functional Griever"

for Us Child-Loss Grievers?

Tommy and I were wrapping up a teleconference on child-loss grief with a group of child-loss parents we have gotten to know fairly well. We had addressed the "Top 10 TRUTHS of Child-Loss Grief" as we see them from our point of view. And, as is so typical of child-loss-grief, we had visited the pit of hell with one other in revealing some of the devastations each of us had gone through in losing our child, yet as we were closing the evening with a lighter discussion, we were somehow able to come out of the pit of hell and reach into the heavens of "good" feelings on a more light-hearted note. We were closing the evening with a lighter discussion, when Carol, our interviewer, asked a question, something to the effect of,

"Y'all decide what you want the Princes to address in our next teleconference, and let us know."

I got tickled, and teased Carol by asking the group,

"Wait a minute, some of you are from Oregon, Colorado, some from New York and New Jersey, and Maryland, some are from Florida, Canada, and California...

~ Do y'all know what 'y'all' means?"

Most of us cracked up, laughing at the "language" differences between us. And then we heard a pitiful voice speak out in a very serious tone,

"You all are laughing!"

My heart stopped. From the height of the heavens, my heart dropped back into the pit of hell, immediately feeling this precious mother's pain. I was rendered speechless; Tommy was rendered speechless by the shared pain he too felt with this mother.

Thankfully, a few mothers were able to respond, and attempted to explain,

"Sometimes we laugh when we run out of tears, and there's nothing else to do."

Another said,

"I remember the days when there was no laughter; it will get better for you."

But tell me,

How does the world go on when we've lost our world?

Last night, Tommy had been consolidating boxes of some of the children's things they had brought home from college, and typical of kids, they had just "dumped" their college life in piles in one of the rooms we use for storage. After going through the children's things, and of course, some being Merry Katherine's things, Tommy found himself rendered to tears a few times. So, finally, Tommy decided to take a break. As he walked up the stairs, he heard me talking to my family of origin about the strange dynamics that can take over a family when processing through a will after the death of parents...

He was disgusted ~

How can they get caught up in such trite things when our world has dropped out from under us?

Indeed, it feels like it's an absolute miracle to us when our hearts can step "away" from our grief long enough to be distracted and then actually can get caught up in big laughter!

One difference we see is we can easily fall down into the pit of grief, back to square one, but the difference is we don't stay down in that pit as long...

Can we trust that our lives will ever be anything beyond a "functional griever's" ~ where we are barely functioning, but when we do function, our lives still are consumed with the loss of our baby...?

Can we trust things will get better?

Picture thanks to FotoSearch.com

Wednesday's Woe - Missing the Uniqueness of My Baby...

Wednesday's Woe

Missing the Uniqueness of My Baby...

Merry Katherine's Birthday. We went to her grave site today...

I actually woke up happy this morning, and even had good dreams for a change... I was rejoicing that we had Merry Katherine 24 years ago, and how sweet that was to have our baby girl.

But as the day wore on, I had some unfortunate "Non Child-Loss Grief War civilian" downloads dumped in my lap to deal with that came seemingly out of left field - totally unexpected, that stirred me up to the most agitated state I've been in for quite a while... Finally by mid-afternoon, I told Tommy,

"I've got to go to her graveside for awhile."

Since it had been a long time since we had been, I gathered up cleaning tools and fresh silk flowers to take for her to have a clean marker with new pink birthday roses. East Tennessee is like my home state of Georgia in that it has Red Clay, and so at the graveyard, the red clay backs up onto the granite marker, filling in the engraved letters with mud which later dries out into red dirt so that you can barely read the information on our baby's grave. So I took about five old toothbrushes, a large brush, a large roll of paper towels, and the computer air cleaner, "Dust Remover - Compressed-Gas Duster" I think 3M calls it, and put them all in a plastic bag. Thankfully, Tommy decided to go with me. :)

When we got there and walked up to her grave stone, I pulled the cleaners and brushes out of the plastic bag and slid the plastic bag under me to sit down on instead of on the dirty ground, and I set out scrubbing and cleaning her grave stone while Tommy cleaned the mud and old flowers out of the vase. I told Tommy,

"This feels so good to get the agitation out and be doing something constructive for her."

While I was working, a peace came over me that amazingly settled the agitation. Tommy began straightening out his mother's grave site, and his uncle's, whose plots are across from, and next to, her site.

A woman down the way at the end of the row from us was tending a grave marker as well. I waved and she waved back. Later, she walked over and surprised me when she saw which grave marker I was working on and remarked,

"Oh! I know her! Are you her mother?"

She then told us she works at Central Baptist-Bearden Church, and that she knew Merry Katherine from there. (This is where Merry Katherine and her brothers chose to go to the wonderful youth department there when they were all in high school.)

Her name was Faye. She continued ~

"Your daughter was always smiling. She was always happy and full of spunk."

And as I pulled my hair out of my eyes, she lit up and said,

"And she looks just like you. You both are beautiful!"

Tommy laughed and said, "Yes, thank goodness she took after her mother."

And Faye laughed and then said, "Well I bet she had your personality."

I said, "She has his personality to a tee."

We had a sweet and encouraging conversation with Faye who had lost her husband sixteen years ago. It was such an edifying time to meet someone who knew our baby ~ and knew her sweet and fun personality like we did. Faye then left.

I knelt down and patted Merry Katherine's body by patting the ground over her body, and talked to her, crying. It was so good to commune with her and let the tears fall onto the grass over her. Again, a soothing peace fell over me as Merry Katherine reminded me,

"I'm okay Mommy. I'm here." (meaning up here in spirit...)

Later, after we got home, Tommy and I began talking about the agitating issues I had faced earlier in the day, and Tommy remarked,

"If Merry Katherine had been here she would have said things in such a way that would have transformed that situation for you."

We both cried. . .

I miss my baby and all the critically important roles she played in our lives. I miss my baby girl, and yet I am so thankful for the 19 years I got to have with her...

Photo from FotoSearch.com

Thursday's Therapy - The Princes' Top 10 TRUTHs About Child-Loss Grief

Thursday's Therapy

The Princes' Top 10 TRUTHs

about Child-Loss Grief

#1) There ARE NO "Five Stages of Grief"!

#2) Nobody else really "gets it." The "Secondary Injury" comes when you hear someone you greatly care about telling you, "You're doing it wrong!"

#3) You will never be the same, and there is nothing "normal" about "The New Normal"!

#4) Child-Loss Grief is NOT something you can control or predict. (There are things you can do to keep your grief flowing in a healthy way, but not "control" it and "move on" as many people will unrealistically expect you to do.

#5) Everybody is different, so Everybody's Grief is different.

#6) Old losses can get re-opened...as well as the old ways we used to cope with them. You can expect to regress, and old self-destructive acts and addictions to re-surface.

#7) Child-Loss Grief is pervasive and invasive throughout your system. It is multi-dimensional, affecting your body, soul, mind, heart, and spirit. Your old beliefs about God, and about how the world works will be challenged.

#8)Child-Loss Grief will last forever, this side of Heaven. There is no such thing as Closure.

#9) As bad as the first year may feel, Child-Loss Grief typically hits bottom between years 2 to 4 1/2 when Shock wears off and Reality sets in, and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder takes on a life of its own.

#10) Child-Loss Grief is not JUST about Grief! Child-Loss Grief is MOSTLY about Trauma!

Picture, thanks to FotoSearch.com