Monday, July 28, 2014

And the Journey Continues.....


Two weeks ago our pastor talked about the quote from Mary Oliver- “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” He mentioned it again yesterday. Thanks a lot. I can’t get that quote out of my mind. It keeps whispering to me, poking me, prodding me.

Well, I can say one thing I’ve learned with certainty. There are no plans. Goals, perhaps. The grieving mind is a slippery thing these days. I’m trying to figure that out too.

I was at an outdoor concert a couple of weeks ago, listening to blues music. The park was filled with people, young and old. As I sat watching the crowd, I see these individuals and realize they all have their “stuff”. Each one of them are living a life that extends to friends and family members. Well beyond what I can see. They too, could be grieving. Or sick. Maybe they just lost their job, or their home. Maybe their child is serving overseas. Maybe they are working through a divorce. Something. Anything.

I smile as I watch a young mother chasing her toddler as he runs back and forth across the grass. She patiently picks him up, plunks him down, and goes through the same exercise again and again. Exhausting for her, I’m sure. A young boy, full of energy. He reminds me of my own son, always in motion. What will he become?

 I watched the young girl to the right of me. She was about four years old, playing under the trees, surrounded by blooming Hosta’s. The stalks of flowers were taller than she was. This little mite had two sticks in her hands, keeping beat to the music with her imaginary drum set. She played the rock for over an hour, lost in herself.

That scene brought me back to my own childhood. I must have been close to the same age as the girl with the drum set. My grandmother had a back yard full of trees and wild blooming things. Ivy was everywhere, giving this small yard a jungle like appearance. As I gazed upward into the trees, I watched their leaves blowing and waving furiously. I could hear them whisper. To me. My aunt was leading me through the jungle, holding my hand. “ Do you see those leaves, Suzie? They are smiling and waving at you, telling you that they love you”. I believed her. And I never forgot that day.

What were the Hosta’s telling the precious young drummer girl? I hope she was filled with wonder and the promise of all things possible.

 I pray that I can continue to look at my one wild and precious life with open eyes, filled with wonder and awe. And to know that I’m not lost, like a ship in the night. But that I’m on my way.

 Love and peace~


Tuesday, July 1, 2014

Twelve Steps in Helping...

Spending time in my yard has always been one of my favorite things. It’s my time to reflect and to problem solve. My weekend was spent doing just that. It was refreshing and healing. Just what I needed.
As I’m drinking my early morning coffee preparing for Monday and my week, I’m already tired. I get frustrated with myself when I have to work so hard to muster up the energy needed to be what I want to be. For me, and for everyone else. Tears roll down my cheeks and I think, “Oh, Great. Here we go again”. Grasping for my will and resolve, I think about Fear. I’m afraid. I try and push through it, but I’m afraid of my own weakness and vulnerability. People think I’m strong, I’m not.

With those thoughts, I began to read about grieving the loss of a child, just to reassure myself that I’m not being too hard on myself. I ran across the below article by Wiki. I have added my own thoughts in italics. My wish is to help others that are in a similar situation to feel better about themselves, and to know they are not alone.

Twelve Ways to Help a Grieving Parent

Remember that your help or support will be needed long term: It is going to take time.
As in long term, it may be a lifetime of support.

There will be false starts and setbacks: Be prepared for the emotional ups and downs with them. Your love and compassion is just what they need.   
Each day I wake up knowing this is a new day. I can be assaulted with sadness with no warning, and at any time. I was talking with my new neighbor the other day, and out of nowhere my throat tightened, and tears slipped down my face. It was difficult to feel so vulnerable. Ugh.

Start by attending the funeral and any memorial service: It doesn’t matter what you need to cancel to be there. Making the effort to attend means a lot to the parents and shows them how much you care about their lost child, and that you are counted among those who intend to remember and aid the family in their time of loss. 
I spend time going through Jillian’s guestbook. I’m thankful for those that attended her visitation and service. I remember.

Be Practical: Grieving parents need space to grieve. You can help this by providing meals, offering to keep the garden tidy, cleaning the house, or running errands for them. Do the everyday mundane things that suddenly seem pointless to them. Stay in close contact; simply calling and visiting can be a huge source of practical support. 
Keeping things in order takes extreme effort, even now. Be gentle when I don’t feel like joining in on the fun. Fact is, I’m not superman/woman.

Do some research on the grieving process: Go online and read about what parents feel when they lose a child. Jump into forums and talk to other people about their feelings and the things that helped them through during the initial stages of their grief. Sites such as Compassionate Friends can be a good place to start.         Good advice. That way you’ll know, and spare me having to try and explain myself. Because more than likely, I won’t.

Expect the grief to increase not decrease. This is grief for life, even if one day it is becoming the perennial missing- part- of –the- heart type grief; it’s not something to “Get Over”. Accept that there is no time frame on grief. For now, it will continue to grow in magnitude and you are much needed as the grief overwhelms your friend or family member.
Be a shoulder to cry on, someone who will listen, someone who will not judge, and someone who will keep being there, no matter what. Accept that a bereaved parent will never, ever get over the loss of their child, but know in time, lots of time, they will get through it. 

Don’t ever tell the parent to “Get over it”, or “Get on with your life, your child would want you to.”
Never Say “You can always have more children”, if the parent is mourning the death of a baby or very young child. This is one of the most   insensitive things to say to a grieving parent. And grandchildren are no substitutes for lost adult children either; just don’t go down this avenue of platitudes.

One really good phrase is simply: “Tell me how you feel”. This lets the parent open up and talk in any direction wished. And to cry or scream if they want to as well.
 I’ll never “Get over it”. I learn to live with it. You may not want to hear that. That isn’t my issue.

Don’t try to mend things and don’t try to counsel or advise. Unless you’re professionally trained to handle grief, leave this part to the professionals. Your role is as someone who cares, listens, and respects the grieving parent. If you’re inclined to offer religious or personally based advice, be one hundred percent sure that it’s welcome.
Allow the parent to talk about their child.
Allow the parent to cry, scream, sob, and be angry. Simply allow them to feel all of their feelings. It’s their right.
If you don’t know what to say, say nothing, just listen. Saying nothing is better than saying something like, “He is in a better place”, He is with God now”, etc. If you feel better saying something, simply explain that you don’t know what to say if that’s what you’re feeling. It’s better to be honest than to bumble along and potentially make things worse.
Don’t force or overly encourage the parent to socialize, or return to work.
Never put them down or discourage them from seeking support online with other bereaved parents.
 When people say to me, “I don’t know what to say”, I smile. Of course you don’t. I don’t expect you to know. And it wouldn’t matter anyway. There are no words that will make it any different than it is. Just knowing you care is enough.

Never compare a child’s death with a non-child death of your own you’ve experienced: The loss of a child carries very different connotations from the loss of a parent, sibling, or friend. Parents will often tell you that they wish it could have been them instead of the child and this is a feeling that haunts them for many years. The pain after the loss of a child does differ from any other loss of a person you know and love; accept this and acknowledge it where needed.
Share your pain over the loss of their child, but remember your pain is nowhere near their pain unless you have lost a child yourself. There is no greater pain than the death of one’s child.
Never tell a bereaved parent you know how they feel or you understand because you probably do not.
Don’t compare the loss of your job, marriage, pet or grandparent to the loss of their child. 
This just shuts me down.

Don’t be afraid to talk about the child: Every parent wants to know their child is not forgotten. And listen to the parents when they want to talk about their child. Whether the child was young, or an adult, there will be many memories that the parents will want to talk about, as a way of bringing the child back into temporary existence.
If you talk about their child and they cry, it’s okay. Allow them their tears, and know that you didn’t hurt them.        
Jillian is one of my children. I love talking about my kids.

Don’t just disappear: This can be the ultimate letdown for a grieving parent, to lose someone who was once a friend, a rock. The concern you feel at not knowing what to say or do is nothing compared to the pain, sadness and loneliness the grieving parent experiences. It’s better to put your foot inot it and apologize than to just fade away and cease to be a resource your friend can count on.
Remember the parent on Mother’s Day and Father’s Day, they are still a parent.
Remember the child’s birthday. Send a card saying that you remember their child.
Remember the child’s date of death. Send a think of you card, call them, share good memories about their child, and listen.
Enough said.

Give them space: As well as letting them know you’re there for them, also accept that the bereaved parent may want to seclude themselves. Be wise to signals of distress about having you around and gently withdraw, still letting them know that you’re there for them whenever they need you, just a call or text away.
It's complicated. The kindest thing you can do it to be gentle and not to have any expectations.

 Peace~