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~Parents as Survivors~
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| "God was the first person who cried when my child died"
~Unknown~ |
This page is for parents who have lost a child by suicide, but all survivors can relate to the articles and poems. Our grief is very similar yet different because of our relationships with our loved ones. We each grief at our own rate and follow our own journey of healing - yet we walk on the same journey together. |
| To all Parents who are Survivors of Suicide - from EA Gay |
It is said that losing a child is one of the most painful experiences you can imagine. I know it is so...
Take the usual grief of the loss of a child and add the loss by suicide. The complexity of the guilt, the stigma, the pain and the heartbreak ; which all weigh heavily on one's mind, heart and soul. How can a child take his/her own life? How can a child turn his/her back on the parents and the life given to them? How can a parent not feel as if there was something they should have seen or done to stop the suicide - after all, it was their child. And the questions go on and on.
Some of the things I include on this page may be repeated from the initial Survivors of Suicide page. I repeat them because the information may be helpful to survivors other than parents. One of the most important things I can to say to a parent who has lost a child to suicide is "your child did not die to cause you pain...he/she died to escape his or her own pain and inner turmoil." It is a thought that is so out of reach of human understanding that we can never calmly accept it nor understand it. And to make progress in your grief...you must accept it for just that. Remember - Your child will always be in your heart, your mind and your soul....forever.
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| Bereaved Parent's Wish List by Kathy Freeman... |
This Wish LIst explained my grief so well, that I sent it to many of my friends and family...in hopes they could understand:
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I wish my child hadn't died. I wish I had him back.
I wish you wouldn't be afraid to speak my child's name. My child lived and was very important to me. I need to hear that he was important to you also.
If I cry and get emotional when you talk about my child I wish you knew that it isn't because you have hurt me. My child's death is the cause of my tears.
You have talked about my child, and you have allowed me to share my grief. I thank you for both.
I wish you wouldn't "kill" my child again by removing his pictures, artwork, or other remembrances from your home.
Being a bereaved parent is not contagious, so I wish you wouldn't shy away from me. I need you now more than ever.
I need diversions, so I do want to hear about you; but, I also want you to hear about me.
I might be sad and I might cry, but I wish you would let me talk about my child, my favorite topic of the day.
I know you think of and pray for me often. I also know that my child's death pains you, too.
I wish you would let me know those things through a phone call, a card, note, or a real big hug.
I wish you wouldn't expect my grief to be over in a short period of time. I wish you could understand that my grief will never be over.
I will suffer the death of my child until the day I die. Grief is a life long process.
I am working very hard in my recovery, but I wish you could understand that I will never fully recover.
I will always miss my child, and I will always grieve that he is dead.
I wish you wouldn't expect me "not to think about it" or to "be happy".
Neither will happen for a very long time, so don't frustrate yourself.
I don't want to have a "pity party", but I do wish you would let me grieve. I must hurt before I can heal.
I wish you understood how my life has shattered. I know it is miserable for you to be around me when I'm feeling miserable. Please be as patient with me as I am with you.
When I say "I'm doing okay", I wish you could understand that I don't "feel" okay and that I struggle daily.
I wish you knew that all of the grief reactions I'm having are very normal.
Depression, anger, hopelessness and overwhelming sadness are all to be expected.
So please excuse me when I'm quiet and withdrawn or irritable and cranky.
Your advice to "take one day at a time" is excellent advice. However, a day is too much and too fast for me right now. I wish you could understand that I'm doing good to handle an hour at a time.
Please excuse me if I seem rude, certainly not my intent. Sometimes the world around me goes too fast and I need to get off. When I walk away, I wish you would let me find a quiet place to spend time alone.
I wish you understood that grief changes people. When my child died, a big part of me died with him. I am not the same person I was before my child died, and I will never be that person again.
I wish very much that you could understand understand my loss and grief, my silence and my tears, my void and my pain. BUT...I pray daily that you will never understand. |
© 1998 Kathy Freeman
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| NOT BETTER, JUST DIFFERENT
By Joanie Yeager...
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This article really 'hit home' with me. Since Wayne's death, I cannot say things are better - only that they have changed.
Friends and acquaintances ask us how we are. Are we better? After several years, it seems we have come from "okay" to "fine." After awhile, we were even able to return the greeting with an inquiry of how they are. After so much time has gone by, a sense of self, for lack of a better word, has demanded that the answer not let them off the hook so easily. "We're not better," we reply, "just different".
We didn't lose you, Jamey Scott. That sounds as if your absence is, at the most, a temporary misplacing of your whereabouts. You didn't pass away. You didn't pass on. You didn't pass over, either. Aren't they such gentle euphemisms? You died. Because even your strength couldn't prevent your neck from breaking when you collided broadside with a stump of an oak tree, not because you were lost, or passed somewhere.
All of these and so many more thoughts are what now make us different. We never will be better or as we were before! Before, we were a family; now, it is just Dad and Mom. Parenting skills are no longer needed. How do you "parent" a grave? We are different now - caretakers, at best - doing what we can in your name to keep your memory alive.
I gather from some people that they are disturbed because we haven't returned to being "ourselves." How can that ever be when our world was twisted, ripped apart and destroyed that spring day eight years ago? We aren't making progress in our recovery; we probably aren't even going to heal. We just are. We are coping as best we can; we are surviving. We have learned to live with the ache in our hearts, the lump in our throats, the tears hiding behind our eyelids. The ambushes of the soul, as reminders of your life, tear us apart many times each day. But, our precious child, we want you to know that we wouldn't have given up a single moment of your life as a trade for less pain now. We aren't sorry we loved you so much, had such pride in you, enjoyed being a part of you, and took such pleasure in your company and your accomplishments. The most terrible thought of all would be to never have had you in our lives at all!
If this is the price we have to pay for loving you and caring for you and raising you to almost-adulthood, then we accept that. We still consider ourselves blessed among parents, because we had you for eighteen years, three months and five days. We were so very, very blessed.
Reprinted with permission of Bereavement Publishing
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| My Heart Is Breaking by Sarah Berthelson ... |
My Heart Is Breaking
My heart is breaking, but you cannot tell.
I put a smile on my face and speak as I will.
Carrying on a conversation, if you have the time;
My heart is breaking and no one knows why.
I am grieving because of the losses in my life.
Parents never get over the death of a child.
It hurts real bad when your parents are gone.
Nothing compares to that child you hold so dear.
He has gone on before me and I am so broken.
How many people have I passed today that have a broken heart?
It may not be the same reason as me. Yet, we keep on going,
Hoping for the best in the people we see.
I have come to realize that most people are hurting,
Maybe not for the same reason. But, the pain is the same.
My heart is breaking. But, I must go on, looking like I am happy.
That way, people will not feel sorry for me.
I am a good actress because of the hurts,
Pretending I am fine when, in fact, my heart is breaking!
© by Sarah Berthelson
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| FINDING ANSWERS TO STICKY QUESTIONS... by Nita Aasen St. Peter, Minnesota |
One of the sticky questions many bereaved parents dread encountering following the death of their child is the common, "How many children do you have?"
As a newly bereaved parent, I wondered how I would respond. Would I say three sons and hope they didn't ask for any more information? Or would I say that
two of my three sons had been killed in a car accident and show little restraint in telling the story? Another option would be to say I had one adult child and let it go at
that. Or did the answer depend on the situation? Would there be times when divulging that information wouldn't be appropriate?
Yet I have been surprised at how infrequently I have been asked that question, probably less than ten times, in the nine years since the accident. How much does age make a difference in being asked the question? Looking back in time it seemed that I was asked that question quite regularly as a young parent. Or, have privacy laws and other social factors resulted in questions of a personal nature being asked much less frequently than they once were? I'm not sure.
Quite early on, however, I decided that, when asked the question, I would say I had three children and then just see where the conversation went. Again I was surprised that it usually stopped right there without any further questions about their age, where they were and what were they doing with their lives?
After about seven years, I finally came up with an answer to the question that felt comfortable. While that may seem like a long time, I have come to the conclusion
that it is not unusual if bereaved parents digest a question in their mind for an extended period before coming up with an answer to a sticky question that fits for them.
My "coming out" situation, so to speak, came up at a work-related meeting. The group was meeting for the first time and in the "getting to know you" phase, we were asked to share our work-life-job and something about our personal life. I was almost the last one to share so I had some time to think - What am I going to say and how am I going to say it?
As the others began sharing, they all, without exception, talked about how many children they had and about some of their comings and goings. I felt this huge gap
between their lives as they were describing it and my life as I was experiencing it. Knowing about half the group, I also was aware that there was another bereaved parent in the group. She chose not to mention her daughter who had died about a year later than my sons. By this time it was my turn. I took a deep breath and plunged ahead.
I began by introducing myself and what I did in my work life. Then I shifted gears and said, "I have three children, three sons, but I'm also a bereaved parent." I then
went on to briefly share the circumstances surrounding their deaths. I concluded by saying how nothing could have changed me more. Then I talked about my surviving son and his family. The sharing time went on to the last person without any further comment.
Following the meeting, the other bereaved parent immediately came up to me and said, "You handled that so well!! You couldn't have done that any better. I've never known how to answer that question since my daughter's death. I've been looking for some way to do it and the way you did it was just so natural. You gave me an option that will work for me. Thank you." And we went on to have a wonderful, comforting conversation about our children who had died too soon and how meaningful it was to talk about them by name at any time and place.
I was totally amazed. In taking the risk, I unknowingly gave another bereaved parent a way to handle "the question." And, by giving a voice to the question I received another answer. I knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that being up front about being a bereaved parent had, for me, been the right thing to do.
Another situation introduced me to another misconception many others may have experienced relating to the death of a child or the death of anyone for that matter. I
was talking about my sons and was asked, "What were their names?" Immediately, the hairs rose on my neck as I responded by saying, "Their names are Erik and David." While I decided this was not the time for a lecture, I was not going to let it pass that death does not take away their names or the name of any child who had died.
Thankfully, their names live on and confirm an identity that was given to them before or at the time of their births and lives on after their deaths. Their names confirm that they once occupied a special place in this world and symbolize their unique personhood. Furthermore their names give us a way to talk about them; to remember them. Their names give us permission to use our voices to proclaim loud and clear that, while our relationship with our deceased children has changed as a result of their death, they continue to be our sons and daughters. My sons' names are still Erik and David just as your child or anyone who has died still has his or her name linking them with your family and this world.
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| SPECIAL BIRTHDAY poem
Author Unknown... |
Please God, make them remember that
Today is a special birthday.
Make them understand that.
The memories don't go away.
Bless them with ears to hear and hearts that care.
Enable them to listen while I share.
Shelter them that they may never know my pain.
Help them to help me know that my child's life was not in vain.
Help them to remember Lord, that I wish
That my child was here
So we could still celebrate.
To understand that I still
Feel the nearness of my child.
To see beyond my smile and the
Words. "I'm okay."
Please God, just let one remember today,
Is a special birthday! |
| Ideas for the Anniversary Date of Your Child's Death... by Lynne Rief, San Dimas, CA |
After the flowers were dried up and gone, after the visitors stopped coming, I wondered just what I was supposed to do in the weeks, months and years following my daughter's death. Would I be the only one who remembered her? Determined that each year she would still be remembered, I began to keep a list of the wonderful remembrance ideas that other parents have used on the anniversary day of their child's death. Some of these ideas take a lot of planning months in advance, but others can be done easily in minutes or hours with very little effort. Whatever you do for that special day, make a plan.
1. Create a scholarship and present it on that day. This can be for a school or an organization that is meaningful to you. There are always children who need a financial helping hand. Make sure that you clear this in advance with the officials who may need to set up a time of day and organize a gathering for the presentation.
2. Take flowers, toys, etc. to other kids in a hospital. It can be hard to revisit a place where your child may have spent much time, but it can also be very healing. Donate money or memorial gifts to a hospital, church or children's group.
3. Make a memory stepping stone with your child's name and add trinkets. This can be done as a family project and set in a place where you can see it year `round.
4. Give away something that belonged to your child, and include the story of why that item is going to a certain person or place. It can become a source of comfort to know that something of your child's will be cherished by another.
5. Make your child's clothes into something else. One family I know made pillows to sleep on for each of their other children. Other ideas are to create a quilt or stuffed toy to cuddle. Customize the items by including your child's picture or name and special dates.
6. Have a T-shirt made with your child's picture on it and wkar it all that day. Make T-shirts for other family members, too.
7. Buy something your child would have liked-not to give away, but to keep as a memento for the day.
8. Make scrapbooks or fill frames with pictures of your child. Buy a hope chest or armoire or shadow box and store in them the most precious things that belonged to your child.
9. Decorate something (a cabinet or library shelves) at your child's school. Customize it with his or her name and significant dates.
10. Do the unveiling of the marker with friends or have a foot marker made. Spend time sitting in the cemetery, arranging new things on the grave or leaving flowers. Make a grave blanket or spread his or her cremains in a ceremony on that day.
11. Have a balloon send-off on that day, or use butterflies or birds or even a kite. On the balloons, you can write special messages or insert flower seeds that will scatter.
12. Go to the library and read grief books. Take a box of tissues and pretend you have a cold.
13. Cook your child's favorite meal or eat at his or her favorite restaurant.
14. Have a star named after your child (www.starregistry.com) or support other memorials. An example is The Southport Lighthouse in Kenosha, Wisconsin. (www.griefwarehouse.org/southportlight.html)
15. Have a sketch, a portrait or a sculpture of your child done by a professional. Or, have a doll made in the likeness of your child. Many parents are happy with these lookalikes.
16. Have a piece of jewelry made with your child's name or picture on it. An inexpensive option is to make it yourself, using alphabet beads and a small picture of your child.
17. Get a tattoo with your child's name or a special image that reminds you of your child.
18. Give everyone a ribbon on that day and tell them what it's for. If your child died of cancer, a gold ribbon is traditional to mark that disease.
19. Donate blood or platelets on that day. There is always a need for blood products. If you child needed them, what better way to remember him or her than by giving some back.
20. Light a candle, say a prayer. This can be done in the privacy of your home, in solitude, or in a public place such as a church or a park.
21. Hold an annual charity event, i.e., a golf tournament or charity race/walk. This can be very time consuming, so enlist lots of help for this choice. The rewards culminate on the big day.
22. Get involved in a cause, volunteering your time and efforts toward something that is already established. There are annual stamp campaigns, food pantries and many children's charities that could use a helping hand.
23. Adopt a child for a day and do what you would have done with your child. My child loved the movies and eating at fast food restaurants. Other children may enjoy boating or theme parks-whatever fun is available.
24. Start or update a web page for your child. Many children become known because their web pages are shared by their parents.
25. Compose a poem or song and send it to everyone you know. This is a beautiful way to share a loving tribute to a child.
26. Plant a tree or a bush or a flower garden in memory of your child. This can be done on your property or at your child's school. We also have a tree at the baseball field where our daughter loved to play ball.
27. Watch videos of your child if you have them.
28. Reread all the cards, notes and letters you saved from the days after your child died. Write notes to those whose messages especially touched you.
29. Reach out to a newly bereaved parent. Think of things you wish someone had said to you, or be prepared to just listen to them talk. It is the best gift you can give.
30. Ask others to write down a memory or impression of your child. Read them aloud at a gathering such an open house or at a party for all your child's friends. Set up a remembrance table with some of your child's special things.
31. Have a new family picture done, but include a large picture of your child or an object that reminds you of your child.
32. Whatever it is that you choose to do on that day, be prepared to lead the way in talking about your child. For it is in planning something special that you can create good memories and happy times on a day that seems to bring only sadness. May the day give you some peace.
reprinted with permission from Bereavement Magazine May/June 2002
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| Helping Others Remember by Lynn Vines... |
Our friends and family love us and want to spare us from additional pain. But they do not realize that by avoiding the subject of our deceased child, they try to invalidate our continuing love for our child. By joining us in the small everyday conversations and remembering how Johnny liked...or Sally would have...or remember when he did... they help us realize we are not the only ones who remember. It is up to each parent to set the tone for this to happen. If we naturally bring up our child's name, it lets others know they can, too. A simple "Thank you for sharing that about.... it lets me know you think of him/her, too," encourages others to continue mentioning their names.
By creating a low-key way to remember birthdays, it opens the door for others to remember our child and share thoughts. I have baked a cake each birthday since my son died. If family and friends would like to visit and share some cake, they can remember my child's birth was a happy occasion for us all. If they prefer to keep the conversations light or just be with me, that's fine. Just knowing we all remember is what is important.
By sharing a card (probably from another TCF parent) that simply says I'm thinking of you on you child's anniversary, you help teach others how important it is to remember- and to let others know you remember. As the years pass and fewer thoughts about your child are expressed, it is these simple acts of love that give bereaved parents the added strength to face another year without their child.
At holidays you can discreetly add a "special remembrance" ornament to the tree. Or donate something to charity in your child's name. By lighting a special candle or including your child's name in grace, you quietly let others know you remember and your child is still an important member of the family, even if he isn't physically at the table.
Some parents set up scholarships in their child's name, or donate to a cause or an organization that was important to their child. Not only does this help another child who was probably close to yours in age, it gives the parents the satisfaction of knowing someone else remembers their child.
Collecting butterflies or angels is another subtle way for you and others to show you remember your child. Each time someone adds to my collection it is as if they are saying, "Yes, I think of him, too." The tangible act of holding something in your hand that symbolizes the love you have for your child is such a comfort.
Try to remember the more comfortable you are of speaking about your child and sharing your feelings, the more comfortable others will be in doing the same. For many years death was a taboo subject, and the bereaved were supposed to get on with life. By encouraging others to share their memories and love for your child, you help
change this attitude. Every small step we take now makes it easier for the thousands of other parents who will be facing this in the future.
Lynn Vines TCF South Bay/L.A., CA
reprinted from TCF South Bay/L.A. Newsletter August 2002
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| TO ALL PARENTS by Edgar Guest... |
To All Parents
by Edgar Guest
"I'll lend you for a little time a child of Mine," He said.
"For you to love the while she lives
And mourn for when she's dead.
It may be six or seven years, or twenty two or three,
But will you, till I call her back,
Take care of her for Me?
She'll bring her charms to gladden you,
And shall her stay be brief,
You'll have her lovely memories as solace for your grief.
I cannot promise she will stay, since all from earth return
But there are lessons taught down there
I want this child to learn.
I've looked the wide world over
In my search for teachers true
And from the throngs that crowd life's lanes
I have selected you.
Now will you give her all your love,
Nor think the labor vain,
Nor hate me when I come to call to take her back again?
I fancied that I heard them say: "Dear Lord, Thy will be done!
For all the joy thy child shall bring,
The risk of grief we'll run.
We'll shelter her with tenderness, we'll love her while we may,
And for the happiness we've known
Forever grateful stay;
But shall the angels call for her much sooner than we've planned
We'll brave the bitter grief that comes
And try to understand.
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| Love Never Goes Away by Darcie D. Sims, Ph.D. ...
Wenatchee, WA
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"Why does it hurt so much? Why is this grief so incapacitating? If only the hurt weren't so crushing." Sound familiar? All of us have known hurts before, but none of our previous "ouches" can compare with the hurt we now feel. Nothing can touch the pain of burying a child.
Yet, most of us have discovered that the sun still comes up. We still have to function. We did not die when our child did, even though we wished we could have. So.we are stuck with this pain, this grief, and what do we do with it? Surely we can't live like THIS forever!
There are no magic formulas for surviving grief. There are a few commonly recognized patterns for grief, but even those are only guide-lines. What we do know is that the emptiness will never go away. It will become tolerable and livable. some day.
TIME.the longest word in our grief. We used to measure TIME by the steps of our child.the first word, first tooth, first date, first car. Now we don't have that measure anymore. All we have is TIME, and it only seems to make the hurt worse.
So what do we do? Give ourselves TIME.to hurt, to grieve, to cry. TIME to choke, to scream. TIME to be "crazy" and TIME to remember.
Be nice to yourself! Don't measure your progress against anyone else's. Be your own timekeeper.
Don't push. Eventually you will find the hours and days of grief have turned to minutes and their moments. but don't expect them to go away. We will always hurt. You don't get over grief.it only becomes tolerable and livable.
Change your focus a bit. Instead of dwelling on how much you lost - try thinking the good memories come over you as easily as the awful ones do. We didn't lose our child.HE/SHE DIED. We didn't lose the love that flowed between us.it still flows, but differently now.
Does it help to know that if we didn't love so very much, it would not hurt so badly? Grief is the price we pay for love. And as much as it hurts, I'm very, very glad I loved.
Don't let death cast ugly shadows, but rather warm memories of loving times you shared. Even though death comes, LOVE NEVER GOES AWAY!
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| SURVIVING THE TINSEL by Alice J. Wisler.... |
That holiday-pang hit my stomach the first October after Daniel died. Greeting me at an arts and craft shop were gold and silver stockings, a Christmas tree draped with turquoise balls and a wreath of pinecones and red berries. What was this? And was "Santa Claus Is Coming To Town" playing as well? It was only October.
I had anticipated that Christmas and the holidays would be tough. In fact, I'd wake on those cold mornings after Daniel died in February and be grateful that it was still months until his August birthday and even more months until Christmas. I dreaded living both without him. I would have preferred to have been steeped in cow manure. At least then I could take a hot bath with sweet smelling bubbles and be rid of the stench. But bereavement isn't that way. As those who had gone on before let me know, you have to live through it.
Christmas came. I did live through it. It continues to happen as do the other significant days of the calendar year. Daniel never arrives at any of them although his memory lives on. By incorporating him into these days of festivity, I can cope.
Some of you have your child's birthday and/or anniversary day within the November through January season. These days, in addition to the holidays everyone else is celebrating, make the season even more complicated and painful, I'm sure.
I offer eleven tips I've used to survive the holidays. Some are my own suggestions and some are borrowed from the many who walk the path of grief.
1. Know you will survive. Others have done it and you will, too. Keep in mind that your first Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year's Day will not be easy.
2. Find at least one person you can talk to or meet with during the holiday season. Perhaps this person has gone through a few Thanksgivings and Christmases before and can give you somehelpful ideas that have worked for her.
3. Things will be different this holiday season and perhaps for all the rest to come. Don't think you have to do the "traditional" activities of years past when your child was alive. Your energy level is low. If no one in your household minds, skip putting up the tree. Forget spending hours making your holiday cookies.
4. Spend the holidays with those who will let you talk about your child. You will need to have the freedom to say your child's name and recall memories, if you choose to do so. Your stories about your child are wonderful legacies. Tell them boldly again and again.
5. If going into the mall or stores brings too much pain, shop for gifts online or through mail-order catalogs. Thinking everyone is happily shopping at the malls with intact lives while your heart is crushed is terribly tough. Go easy on yourself.
6. Getting away from the house is an idea that worked for my family. The first Christmas without Daniel we went to a nearby town and lived in the Embassy Suites. The kids enjoyed the indoor pool and breakfast buffets. Christmases that followed were spent at a rented cottage on the shore and the Christmas we rented the beach house, we were able to invite extended family to join us. We all shared in the cooking.
7. Create something to give to those who have helped you throughout the year. I made some very simple tree ornaments with "In Memory of Daniel" stamped on them and gave them to friends that first Christmas.
8. Decorate the grave. Put up a plastic Christmas tree with lights. Sometimes being busy with decorating the grave gives a feeling of doing something for a child we can no longer hold.
9. Do something in memory of your child. Donate to a charity or fund in his memory. Volunteer. My oldest daughter Rachel and I volunteer at the Hospice Tree of Remembrance each December and share memories of Daniel as we spend this time together.
10. If your bereavement support group has a special candle-lighting service to remember the children in your area who have died, attend it. Doing something in memory of your child with others who understand the pain these holidays hold can be therapeutic.
11. Spend time reflecting on what the season is about. Everyone around you may be frantic with attending parties, services, shopping and visiting relatives. Perhaps you used to be the same way. Now you may want to avoid some of the festivities. Give yourself permission to excuse yourself from them. Light a candle in your favorite scent. Record some thoughts in a journal. This is great therapy, too.
One day you will wake up and it will be January 2. The holidays will have ended. You will have made it. If you are like me, you will find that surviving the tinsel has made you stronger and although you may cry, somewhere within you, you will feel that core of new steel.
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