Lifeline December * January * 2003 / 2004 www.compassionatefriends.ca         **      email ~ tcf@compassionatefriends.ca   Christmas Candles   Christmas candles burning bright Honor our children on this holy night. Christmas candles with golden flames Brighten our tears as we mention their names. Christmas candles lit with love and care As memories with Compassionate Friends we share   Mary Miller Sault TCF Lights of Love Can you see our candles Burning in the night? Lights of love we send you Rays of purest white Children we remember Though missing from our sight In honor and remembrance We light candles in the night All across the big blue marble Spinning out in space Can you see the candles burning From this human place? Oh, angels gone before us Who taught us perfect love This night the world lights candles That you may see them from above Tonight the globe is lit by love Of those who know great sorrow, But as we remember our yesterdays Let’s light one candle for tomorrow We will not forget, And every year in deep December On Earth we will light candles As …… we remember   By Jacqueline Brown  HOLIDAYS Christmas time will soon be here, Without our only child this year. Just memories have taken her place,  And we remember her sweet face. And holidays that we have shared, For nearly 18 years we cared. For all the good times and the bad, We would not trade the years we had. Holidays and special dates, Become a parent’s dreaded fates. We’ll be alone this Christmas morn, And we’ll thank God our child was born. Juanita Marshall Love, May it touch your holidays, May it live in your heart.   HOW DO WE DEAL WITH WHAT REMINDS US OF  OUR PAIN THIS COMING CHRISTMAS AND HOLIDAY SEASON What is our pain? As bereaved parents, brothers. sisters and grandparents, we do struggle to deal with the worst pain possible in this sad world of ours... the ultimate tragedy, the death of our very own loved son or daughter. Our pain may be at the death of our only son or daughter, or the death of two or even all of our children, engulfing us with multiple grief and trauma…These traumatic happenings In our family life may have happened years apart and we might feel the Impact of both together. Our pain is real; it is not an academic exercise or an Intellectual discussion about grief and trauma. We are living the pain... experiencing anguish that is so intense and new to us that we are afraid to really feel all of it, and which we try desperately to avoid. Firstly we go numb, thanks to the flow of the ‘natural’ endorphins in our brains. We become disoriented. (Thank God), and we try to avoid the full reality of what has befallen our lives now and for the future as it is too painful to grasp totally. We ask “Why?” “Why me?” “Why my child’?” and we say our “if only’s.” We want to stop the whale world and inform everyone in it of our pain and our child’s death... and that is natural ... it is healing. Our feelings are expressing our love, our shattered dreams for our son or daughter and for the future broken dreams of our own lives. Our pain is real and engulfs us at all levels of our being... emotional, mental, physical and spiritual. As we tell our story in bits and pieces to the one or two who know our need to be heard, our nightmare slowly becomes real and is no longer just a nightmare. We know our son or daughter is dead: they are not on holiday: they are not coming back We pine for them and we search for them.., hoping.., hoping... hoping. Yes, we are now out in the open, struggling bravely with our pain, our intense new hurts and suffering. As we move from denial, we are now being confronted with so many open “reminders” which activate our memories: memories which not only remember what was, but what is now... Our memory is meant to remember all that has ever happened to us and to our children. . . all the good times as well as the bad. As we remember and use our memory, we feel... events and feelings are one. Our choice this Christmas is how to deal with our painful memories. I might ask: “Will I wait until I am a little stronger emotionally and have explored and found my way of dealing with memories that are now painful?’ And that’s okay... to wait until we can handle our pain if that is easier for us. How do I deal with so many varied reminders this Christmas season? Christmas music, Christmas morning, family get-togethers, Christmas gifts, the holiday season and all that that entails: toy shops, beaches, road trauma advertisements on television, S.O.S. reports, funeral notices, birthdays, clothes which would have looked lovely on our child. anniversaries, happy friends, school break-ups, the hospital as we pass it? When reminded, our memory will remember. With the remembering will come the feelings which are linked and interwoven with that event... We can say “No, not now... later!” We can say “Yes”. We can actively think back and experience all the feelings - even write it down. We can say “Yes” and carefully select a compassionate friend who has been then with whom to share it, who will listen and not change the subject. This Christmas season, we and our lives have changed. We are new people in a new world -expressing these new persons slowly and bravely. My loving thoughts are with you all as we remember Christmases past and those we have loved. -Lindsay Harmer TCF/Melbourne. Australia What I do today is important because I’m exchanging a day of my life for it. Allow Me   Allow me to smile, Allow me to cry, Allow me to daily, Ask my God why? My child had to leave me, I suffer such pain, That will not be healed, Till I hold him again. So touch my hand gently, Hold me with love, No words are needed, They come from above. When silence is spoken, The heart understands, Whatever happens Is all in God’s plan. For He lent us our treasure, Just for a time, Then one day He said, “He again will be mine.” Allow me to dream, To reminisce, To often speak Of the child I now miss. To reach out to others, Who now share my pain, To help them see, There is no one to blame. For God sees the future, He alone knows why, For love is the one thing, That will never die. I thank Him for memories, A treasure untold, For dreams, when nightly, My dear child I hold.   Mary McDonald, TCF SWMB In memory of son Damian September 24 1966—December 12th, 2000     And when we have remembered everything, We grow afraid of what we may forget. A face, a voice, a smile? A birthday? Anniversary? No need to fear forgetting, because THE HEART REMEMBERS ALWAYS. sascha   Remembering Your Child(ren) in Special Ways During the Holidays As everyone surely knows (but may be trying to forget), the holidays are approaching. If this is your first holiday season since the death of your child, you may wish you could just skip the whole thing. But even if we choose not to celebrate at all, the rest of the world is celebrating, and we’d literally have to stay in our houses with the shades drawn, the TV and radio off, and cancel the newspaper in order to ignore it. Most bereaved parents will say that the anticipation of the day is actually worse than the day itself. This is probably true, but we still have to deal with the “season”--parties, shopping for gifts, family gatherings, people wishing us “good cheer,” etc. Then, too, if we have other small children we feel obligated not to spoil it for them. So, how do we handle the holidays? The following are some suggestions that have helped other parents grieving for a special child at this special time of year: Above all, don’t force yourself to do anything you feel you can’t handle. Keep your plans simple and flexible. Being with supportive relatives and friends can be comforting, but don’t feel obligated to go to every party, every family gathering, or stay longer than you are comfortable. Shopping for gifts can be especially difficult, with the stores decorated, jolly Santas everywhere and holiday music playing. You might even feel resentful if you need to buy gifts for other people’s young children. This does not indicate that you are a “mean” person or a “scrooge”. You’re just grieving, and that’s normal. Some bereaved parents shop exclusively from catalogs and avoid the stores altogether. This is a fine solution if you have the energy and presence of mind to shop early. Some people make a list ahead of time so they can shop faster, or have someone else shop for them. Or shop with another bereaved parent - you won’t feel crazy, and you will be able to express your feelings freely and openly. Also, take advantage of gift-wrapping services or pay a teenage friend to do it for you. Remember and include your special child in whatever way(s) you want to and feel is appropriate. This is, of course, painful, and family and friends may think you are “dragging this thing out” unnecessarily. Remind them gently that it is normal and necessary to grieve, and that you want to include your child who died. Some suggestions for remembering your children during the holidays: * Buy a special ornament for your child for your tree. * Burn a candle in your home during the holidays in memory of your child. * Decorate your child’s grave. * Donate a toy you would have bought your child to a needy child or a child who is hospitalized during the holidays. * Hang a stocking for your child along with the others and “stuff” it with money. Ask friends and relatives to do the same, then donate that money in your child’s name to a worthy cause. Don’t be afraid to change your routine totally, especially if you have no surviving children. Take a trip if you want to. What counts right now is what’s best for you --no one but you knows what that is. Finally, these days, like all the rest, will pass and become just a memory. Hang in there! The friendship and understanding of other bereaved parents is very helpful at this time -— keep in touch! Wishing you peace this holiday season. Linda Moffatt Reprinted from St. Louis Chapter Newsletter November—December 1991 THAT PAINFUL FIRST CHRISTMAS I remember receiving my first Christmas card, the year that Philip died. It was from a friend who had had a baby that year. I felt so angry I wanted to screw it up. I also remember receiving a letter and homemade card from a special friend. She said that she had spent a long time looking for a Christmas card to send us but couldn’t find an appropriate one so she made one instead. I still have that card. I remember going to an end of year Christmas dinner that my husband wanted to attend. Amidst the laughter and frivolity I felt like screaming. But I remember a couple at our table who weren’t afraid to let us talk of Philip and our pain. Precious people. It seemed so unfair when they lost their own babe about eighteen months later. I remember going to a pre-Christmas service and walking out because I couldn’t sing the carols. I remember being misunderstood and criticized for that. But I also remember friends who gave up part of their Christmas Eve to come and be with us, sacrificing their own family time. They listened to us and encouraged us to talk about our feelings. I remember asking my family not to give us presents (except for Jonathan). And I remember the unexpected gifts that arrived, the anonymous parcel of groceries; someone’s way of saying they cared. I remember the pleasures they brought us in the midst of our pain. I remember watching one little boy opening presents when there should have been two lots of presents for two boys. I remember sneaking off after Christmas dinner saying that I wanted to sleep and muffling my sobs in the pillow as I thought of a lonely unmarked grave. It was not until a day or two later that we again visited Philip’s grave and learnt that the plaque had been placed there just before Christmas! These are only a few of the memories [have of that first lonely Christmas. As I look back, it is important for me to realize that for the things that hurt, there was often some little kindness that acted as a counterbalance. Not always, but sometimes. Two more Christmas days have been and gone since then. The second Christmas, there was another gap in our family; my Mum had died that year. Last year, while still very aware of missing my loved ones, I found it possible to join in with all the Christmas festivities and to actually enjoy them...not without moments of sadness, of course. As this Christmas approaches. I think of those who are newly bereaved, and I hope that if I can’t, then there will be someone who will, by their little kindness, make it possible for a bereaved parent to endure the pain and loneliness of Christmas without their special child. -Averil Riley (Lovingly lifted from TCF/Christchurch. New Zealand -December 1987 newsletter] HOLIDAY THOUGHTS “For those who think that Christmas and Chanukah are just nice days to give and get presents. bereaved parents have another message. Mixed with the Joy is the knowledge of sadness. With the hope of birth comes the threat of death. We should not try to cover up our sadness in front of people, for we have a lesson to teach them. But the holidays have a lesson for us, too. Yes, there is death. Yes, there is great bitterness in life. There is darkness. But there is hope. There is birth. There is light. In a society which works so hard to deny death. perhaps only bereaved parents and a few others can truly understand the depths of these holidays.” -Dennis Klass. Advisory Board Member TCF/St. Louis. MO I cannot carry this burden alone. The road is too steep and the pain too great. I shall only get to the top of the hill if I am able to lean on a firm shoulder whose strength lies in the reality of the fee which bear its weight. The sharing of grief is the only solution to the crisis that surrounds bereavement in our age. To share a person’s sorrow is to accept their reality and to acknowledge the fact that none of us is immune to death. Excerpt from “Death Comes Home” Simon Stephens—founder of TCF   Memories unique as snowflakes impossible to hold but for a moment yet there is another                                              gliding                                                    down                                                            upon                                                                  the first until they become blankets of protection against the storms of loneliness memories gently memories   Marcia F. Alig TCF/Mercer I Always Sleep Late on Christmas Remembering MAX Somehow, I always sleep late on Christmas. Strange - that is not how it used to be. Each year in anticipation of surprises left for me by the tree, I jumped from my bed at the crack of dawn. Now I always sleep late on Christmas. It just doesn’t seem so important anymore to be the one whose feet are first to hit the floor, as it was when I would stand over my brother’s bed and say, “Wake up! You cann’t sleep late. It’s Christmas!” There is no one now to keep me from missing Christmas dawn because of too much sleep. That time on that day is now lonely in a way. So, I always sleep late on Christmas Day. Melanie Smith TCF Tuscaloosa   My First Five Years as an Only Child I’ve been without my brother for five years. I guess the hard part is over now. Sometimes I think I have aged 30 years in the past five. In a strange way, these past five years have been the best and worst years of my life. I have accomplished the many things of a typical young adult learning to drive, graduating from high school, going to college, and starting a career. Every one of my accomplishments has been clouded by the fact that my brother George is not here to share each milestone, and is not achieving any more milestones for himself. He was cheated of so many things. He will never graduate, get married, have children or travel. He will never grow old, and I will never have a brother to grow old with. I’ll never have nieces and nephews. The sibling relationship, usually the longest relationship of one’s life, has been cut short for us. In these five years, although I have learned to accept that he is not coming back, the difficult part is dealing with it day by day. My relationship with George ended just when we started to become friends. The childish fights and other annoyances of having a big brother were changing to real conversations and to having an occasional ally. I am angry about all the things that we have missed and all the things that will never be, and I guess I always will be. Five years heals a lot of wounds, but the hurt will always be there, no matter how may years pass. In these last five years, I have been forced to grow up too fast. I have been forced into a new outlook on life. I have felt lonely and alone. I now realize that I will never be the same person as before. Maybe I am a better person because of what I have been through. Five years ago I never thought I would survive, but I am still here dealing with it every day. I don’t know what the next five years will bring, but at least I have made it this far. Kristin Steiner. TCF Staten Island Gifts The holidays are coming! I know because there is a sign in a small town in Missouri that says so. I saw it in late August as I drove through town on my way home from taking my daughter to college. It said “Holiday Greetings.” I was immediately filled with guilt because I had not gotten my cards addressed. I was overwhelmed with anger because I’m not ready yet! I’m just not ready! I still haven't written last year’s holiday letter, and my gift list is incomplete. I know what to give my dorm-doomed daughter: additional closet space, eight extra hours a day and anything that is edible out of a box. I know what to give my husband: additional closet space, eight extra hours a day and anything that is edible. I know what to give myself: additional closet space, eight extra hours a day and anything edible that does not have fat, calories or fiber! But what do I give the family who is learning to live with an empty space at the table? What do I give the hurting parent whose dreams are shattered, or to the widow whose bed is empty? And what about the widower who hasn’t mastered the microwave yet? What do I give the siblings, the grandparents, the relatives, the friends, to all who are grieving the loss of someone special? We all need additional closet space, eight extra hours a day and something to eat; but what can we give ourselves when we hurt so badly on days when the rest of the world seems so happy? What can we give ourselves when signs tell us in August that the holidays are coming and we’re not ever going to be ready again? Gifts for the grieving can be difficult. But we must find something to wrap up and exchange with each other. We must not let death rob us of everything. Whether this is your first holiday season in The Valley or you’ve been here a long time, you still need gifts. We each need to have something to unwrap, some surprise, some reminder that someone loves us enough to shop for us. If I could, I would give you: Patience. We are always in a hurry. We want things to be better now. We live in a world of oughts and shoulds and we suffer from guilt because we cannot meet our own expectation. I would give us all a hefty package of patience - with ourselves and with others and with the world in general. It may not be perfect. In fact, sometimes it is downright lousy. It’s unfair, painful and awful. Patience might not cure the ills of the world, but I might be able to survive the turmoil if I had some tolerance for the imperfections of the human race. Patience is a hard gift to wrap, but one which we need. Tissue-of-the-Month Club Membership. We go through a lot of tissues, especially around holiday time. Each month a new color or designer box will arrive, and it will be comforting to know there is an endless supply available. Otherwise, we may resort to using toilet paper and that is not as socially acceptable in public. Time. Time is a funny gift. Some people never have enough, while others seem to drown in endless hours. Time often becomes a painful yardstick against which we measure ourselves and each other. “Time heals all hurts” is an often heard phrase which falls short of healing anything. Yet, time is the only way to get from one day to another, from one moment to the next; and until we invent some magical transportation system to hurry the journey to togetherness, we’ll just have to take it one moment at a time. Though time will not heal anything, it might help to soften the hurt and distance the pain. I will hurt the rest of my days, but time will change the intensity of that hurt. Furry Slippers. You will need furry slippers and might as well toss in a warm bathrobe, too. We all need to wrap ourselves in something soft and comforting, and we have probably forgotten the last time we bought something so practical, yet comforting. Memory. When someone we love dies, memory seems more like a cruel attack rather than a gift. We cannot think of a single image that does not result in hurt. We cannot bear to look at pictures or to think of our loved ones … the pain is simply too great. Yet, even though we fear it, memory does not wither and die. It grows softer around the edges, and if we allow it, memory can become our tie to the past and our bridge to the future. I would give you the gift of memory, for no matter how painful the memory may be, remember that you have it! If you had not loved at all, memory would be empty. Give yourself time and patience, and learn to cherish the memories. Don’t lose them in the fog of grief. Hold onto them tightly. If you have but few, then ask others to help you retrieve whatever memories they have of your loved one. Ask for pictures, stories, mementos of the life you love so dearly. And if you have a memory of someone who has died, give it freely to those who are left behind … in the sharing of those memories is born the beginning of hope and healing. Peace. A most requested gift, often sought, many times not found. Perhaps that is because we are looking for someone to give it to us, and peace is something that comes from within. My gift to you would be the strength to search for it and , once found, the courage to allow it to live within you once again. Let the past remain where it is; nurture the seeds you plant today in hopes of whatever lies ahead. Hope. WE cannot live without hope, yet as we grieve, we often lose all sense of hope. We sink into hopelessness and despair, and fear we may never feel happy of hopeful again. A gift of hope is most needed by those whose pain has robbed them of all feeling. I learned to honor the pain I felt because at least I felt something! Hope is a phone call, a note, a cupcake that says, “I am here.” This holiday, call someone you have thought about but not spoken with simply because you didn’t know what to say … remember it doesn’t matter what you say as long as you say something! Your presence is a gift of hope. Picture Frame. Frame a beloved picture in a new frame. It will symbolize the blending of the past with the present and reflect a changed but still loved life-scape. Hugs. Better than a new bathrobe and furry slippers. We miss the physical contact with our loved ones, and a hug can ease the distance between what was and what is. Even those who do not like hugs can give and receive them verbally or visually. Hugs span the space between the heart and the soul and remind us that we are alive. Love. Lost forever, or so it seems. Without it, the world is colorless, the present bleak, the future hopeless. If I could, I’d wrap it in gold and silver and rainbow colors for you. I’d sing you all the songs you have stored in your heart and read all the lines of love written on your memory. But I cannot give you love you have not lost… I can only help you rediscover it. Search for it; find it! Even though death has come, love never goes away. May these holidays be wondrous for you. May you find the gifts of joy and remembrance that come with love given and received. These are the treasures of your life. May you rediscover them again. Darcie Sims Bereavement Magazine November/December 1990 Gone is the Life, But never the light. Yesterday is experience… Tomorrow is hope… Today is getting from one to the other As best we can. Grandparents Credo We are the grieving grandparents, the shepherds of our children and grandchildren’s lives. Our grief is two-fold and at times, we feel powerless to help. We seek to comfort our children in the depths of their grief.   And yet, we need the time and space to face our own broken hearts. We have been robbed of the special tender touch a grandparent shares with a grandchild…. we have lost a symbol of our immortality.   As we walk by our child’s side, we both give and draw strength. We reach into their hearts to comfort them, And when they reach out to us in their distress, We begin the journey to heal together.   We continue to be their guardians. We allow traditions to change to accommodate their loss. We support the new ones, which symbolize the small steps on their journey. It is in their healing that our hearts find comfort.   ~ Authored by Susan Mackey TCF, Rutland VT Adopted by TCF/Canada, 05/2003   To Bereaved Grandparents… A Holiday Summary: (from a bereaved grandparent) Know that your grief over the loss of your grandchild is legitimate. You have the need and right to grieve. Learn about the grief process, not only so you will know that what you are experiencing is normal, but it will help you know that your grieving child is not “going crazy”. Find someone with whom you can share your thoughts and feelings about your grandchild’s death. Know that the holiday will be difficult for you as well as your grieving child. Don’t expect too much of yourself this year. Your grieving child will be especially needing of you this year. Find ways to include memories and/or memorabilia of the dead child in your family holiday ritual. You may even want to change some of your traditional holiday plans this year. Know that your children you have not lost a child may be uncomfortable with whatever you do, but explain to them how necessary it is for your grieving child. Know that however you plan this year's holiday arrangements it will not be as it has been in the past. The holidays will never be the same because your grandchild will never be there again. Know too that is does get easier as the years go by. Take this opportunity to cement a very special relationship with your grieving child by being sensitive to their needs during the holiday season. Margaret H. Gerner, MSW We hope for the willingness to live this year  in a way that will be gentle to ourselves … one day at a time. Dorothy Parker Suggestions for New Year’s Resolutions Let’s not try to imagine the future– take one day at a time. Allow yourself time to cry, both alone and with your loved ones. Don’t’ shut out family and friends from your thoughts and feelings. Share these difficult times. You may all become closer for it. Try to be realistic about your expectations– of yourself, your spouse, other family members and friends. When a good day comes, relish it, don’t feel guilty and don’t be discouraged because it doesn’t last—it WILL come again and multiply. Take care of your health. Help your body heal, as well as you mind. Share your feelings with other Compassionate Friends and let them share with you. Mary Ehmann If their song is to continue, then we must do the singing.   GRIEF HAS NO TIMETABLE “Like fingerprints or snowflakes, each person’s grief is different. The depth and scope depends on your relationship with your loved one the support you receive and your ability to cope with stress.”   WHEN.... when we finally realize that you are always going to be smiling and dancing in our hearts, then, our pain shall turn to joy. Bob Walters TCF/South Lake Tahoe, CA Message of Hope A whispered wish of remembrance Silent words of loss A song of good bye An unspoken prayer for lasting peace A message of hope Rejoice for the spirit that has passed. Release the sorrow and the sadness. Rebuild a life again. Emerging from your cocoon so gently placed Sensing the freedom in the waiting sky Wings open and quickly a flight A drift in the air dancing with the wind Aglow in the sunlight. The message of hope Touching the spirit Teaching to begin anew Transforming the wish into hope on the radiant wing of a butterfly. Kirsti A. Dyer, MD, MS ©1997-8 by Journey of Hearts A Healing Place in CyberSpace.   May your holidays be filled with peace, love, and joy For more articles on Getting Through the Holidays,  please check our Help for Holidays Section. [ Home ] [ Newsletter Request ] [ 2002 ] [ 2003 Lifeline ] [ 2004 Lifeline ]