Common symptoms of grief

 

While loss affects people in different ways, many people experience the following symptoms when they’re grieving. Just remember that almost anything that you experience in the early stages of grief is normal – including feeling like you’re going crazy, feeling like you’re in a bad dream, or questioning your religious beliefs.

• Shock and disbelief – Right after a loss, it can be hard to accept what happened. You may feel numb, have trouble believing that the loss really happened, or even deny the truth. If someone you love has died, you may keep expecting them to show up, even though you know they’re gone.
• Sadness – Profound sadness is probably the most universally experienced symptom of grief. You may have feelings of emptiness, despair, yearning, or deep loneliness. You may also cry a lot or feel emotionally unstable.
• Guilt – You may regret or feel guilty about things you did or didn’t say or do. You may also feel guilty about certain feelings (e.g. feeling relieved when the person died after a long, difficult illness). After a death, you may even feel guilty for not doing something to prevent the death, even if there was nothing more you could have done.
• Anger – Even if the loss was nobody’s fault, you may feel angry and resentful. If you lost a loved one, you may be angry at yourself, God, the doctors, or even the person who died for abandoning you. You may feel the need to blame someone for the injustice that was done to you.
• Fear – A significant loss can trigger a host of worries and fears. You may feel anxious, helpless, or insecure. You may even have panic attacks. The death of a loved one can trigger fears about your own mortality, of facing life without that person, or the responsibilities you now face alone.
• Physical symptoms – We often think of grief as a strictly emotional process, but grief often involves physical problems, including fatigue, nausea, lowered immunity, weight loss or weight gain, aches and pains, and insomnia.

Coping with grief and loss tip 1: Get support

The single most important factor in healing from loss is having the support of other people. Even if you aren’t comfortable talking about your feelings under normal circumstances, it’s important to express them when you’re grieving. Sharing your loss makes the burden of grief easier to carry. Wherever the support comes from, accept it and do not grieve alone. Connecting to others will help you heal.

Finding support after a loss

• Turn to friends and family members – Now is the time to lean on the people who care about you, even if you take pride in being strong and self-sufficient. Draw loved ones close, rather than avoiding them, and accept the assistance that’s offered. Oftentimes, people want to help but don’t know how, so tell them what you need – whether it’s a shoulder to cry on or help with funeral arrangements.
• Draw comfort from your faith – If you follow a religious tradition, embrace the comfort its mourning rituals can provide. Spiritual activities that are meaningful to you – such as praying, meditating, or going to church – can offer solace. If you’re questioning your faith in the wake of the loss, talk to a clergy member or others in your religious community.
• Join a support group – Grief can feel very lonely, even when you have loved ones around. Sharing your sorrow with others who have experienced similar losses can help. To find a bereavement support group in your area, contact local hospitals, hospices, funeral homes, and counseling centers.
• Talk to a therapist or grief counselor – If your grief feels like too much to bear, call a mental health professional with experience in grief counseling. An experienced therapist can help you work through intense emotions and overcome obstacles to your grieving

Coping with grief and loss tip 2: Take care of yourself When you’re grieving, it’s more important than ever to take care of yourself. The stress of a major loss can quickly deplete your energy and emotional reserves. Looking after your physical and emotional needs will help you get through this difficult time. Face your feelings. You can try to suppress your grief, but you can’t avoid it forever. In order to heal, you have to acknowledge the pain. Trying to avoid feelings of sadness and loss only prolongs the grieving process. Unresolved grief can also lead to complications such as depression, anxiety, substance abuse, and health problems. Express your feelings in a tangible or creative way. Write about your loss in a journal. If you’ve lost a loved one, write a letter saying the things you never got to say; make a scrapbook or photo album celebrating the person’s life; or get involved in a cause or organization that was important to him or her. Look after your physical health. The mind and body are connected. When you feel good physically, you’ll also feel better emotionally. Combat stress and fatigue by getting enough sleep, eating right, and exercising. Don’t use alcohol or drugs to numb the pain of grief or lift your mood artificially. Don’t let anyone tell you how to feel, and don’t tell yourself how to feel either. Your grief is your own, and no one else can tell you when it’s time to “move on” or “get over it.” Let yourself feel whatever you feel without embarrassment or judgment. It’s okay to be angry, to yell at the heavens, to cry or not to cry. It’s also okay to laugh, to find moments of joy, and to let go when you’re ready. Plan ahead for grief “triggers”. Anniversaries, holidays, and milestones can reawaken memories and feelings. Be prepared for an emotional wallop, and know that it’s completely normal. If you’re sharing a holiday or lifecycle event with other relatives, talk to them ahead of time about their expectations and agree on strategies to honor the person you loved. When grief doesn’t go away It’s normal to feel sad, numb, or angry following a loss. But as time passes, these emotions should become less intense as you accept the loss and start to move forward. If you aren’t feeling better over time, or your grief is getting worse, it may be a sign that your grief has developed into a more serious problem, such as complicated grief or major depression. Complicated grief The sadness of losing someone you love never goes away completely, but it shouldn’t remain center stage. If the pain of the loss is so constant and severe that it keeps you from resuming your life, you may be suffering from a condition known as complicated grief. Complicated grief is like being stuck in an intense state of mourning. You may have trouble accepting the death long after it has occurred or be so preoccupied with the person who died that it disrupts your daily routine and undermines your other relationships. Symptoms of complicated grief include: Intense longing and yearning for the deceased Intrusive thoughts or images of your loved one Denial of the death or sense of disbelief Imagining that your loved one is alive Searching for the person in familiar places Avoiding things that remind you of your loved one Extreme anger or bitterness over the loss Feeling that life is empty or meaningless The difference between grief and depression Distinguishing between grief and clinical depression isn’t always easy, since they share many symptoms. However, there are ways to tell the difference. Remember, grief is a roller coaster. It involves a wide variety of emotions and a mix of good and bad days. Even when you’re in the middle of the grieving process, you will have moments of pleasure or happiness. With depression, on the other hand, the feelings of emptiness and despair are constant. Other symptoms that suggest depression, not just grief: Intense, pervasive sense of guilt. Thoughts of suicide or a preoccupation with dying. Feelings of hopelessness or worthlessness. Slow speech and body movements Inability to function at work, home, and/or school. Seeing or hearing things that aren’t there.

When to seek professional help for grief If you recognize any of the above symptoms of complicated grief or clinical depression, talk to a mental health professional right away. Left untreated, complicated grief and depression can lead to significant emotional damage, life-threatening health problems, and even suicide. But treatment can help you get better. Contact a grief counselor or professional therapist if you: Feel like life isn’t worth living Wish you had died with your loved one Blame yourself for the loss or for failing to prevent it Feel numb and disconnected from others for more than a few weeks Are having difficulty trusting others since your loss Are unable to perform your normal daily activities

The Stone...

Grief is like having a

jagged stone inside oneself;

as time passes

the jagged edges gradually

become smooth,

but the stone remains.

A MOTHER'S PAIN

You see me smiling.
What you don't see is that I am screaming behind that smile.

You see me go on with life in general.
What you don't see is that it takes every ounce of energy I have just to breathe.

You see me alone with my thoughts.
What you don't see is me talking to him.

You see me say "I am fine".
What you don't see is the huge hole in my heart that can never be filled.

You see me and think "she's back to normal".
What you don't see is that there is no normal for me anymore.

You see me and think "Oh my God, I hope this never happens to me".What you don't see is that as much as I long for you to understand me... I hope this never happens to you either.

You see me joking and laughing with others and think she must be getting over what has happened.
What you don't see is that I can never forget, nor would I want to, you don't get over the loss of a child.

You see me sad and don't know what to say so you keep going.
What you don't see is all I really want is for you to ask how I am doing, really, and give me a hug.

You see that life goes on.
What you don't see is the moment my child died,

the life I had will never be the same.

You see that I am strong... do not be deceived.
What you don't see is that I am weak and weary.

Some days "I am 6 feet from the edge".

What you see is a mask... a lie. The mask helps you cope with me and me cope with myself.
What you don't see is the raw sometimes unbearable pain.

You don't see me being unable to breathe.
What you don't see is my despair. You don't see me screaming to Heaven for God to give my child back.

What you don't see you could never understand anyway unless you walk a mile in my shoes.... God Forbid.

~author unknown

TALKING WITH FRIENDS WHO HAVE LOST A CHILD

Do not worry that mentioning the name of the child will "remind" bereaved parents of their child. We remember our child every minute of every day. We want to talk about our child. Mention his name. One of our biggest fears is that he will be forgotten and one of our biggest joys is to hear his name.

Understand that we are parents without the right number of children. Because of this we experience over and over again fear, anger, guilt, sorrow, loss of future, isolation, abandonment. These are not steps that we work through but feelings that will continue to return forever with various intensity and in different forms.

Keep in mind that there really is no "closure" to the grief for the loss of a child. How can there be? Such loss is against nature and against all that we understand in the passage from one generation to the next.

What you say to bereaved parents is less important than that you say something. Ignoring bereaved parents is only adding to the burden of grief. Simply asking "How are you doing?" can be very helpful. But do it often.

When bereaved parents return to the workplace, make sure that you stop by, even if it's just to say "hello." After the loss of a child, parents often feel as if they are starting all over. This "new life" is just in the infancy stage and a friendly word makes a difference.

Call bereaved parents just to let them know you are thinking about them. Don't be insulted if they do not call you. Grieving saps energy for a long time.

Never think that grieving parents are somehow "holding onto their grief. "There is no such thing. The loss of a child causes endless grief that becomes part of the bereaved parent's inner self forever.

Remember that grief is not a process that one goes through a step at a time. Grieving is a roller coaster ride, and it is circular. The first couple of years, we are numb. When the numbness goes away, we are shocked to see that the world has gone on without our child. When we come out of this numbness, we are different people with a new sense of what it is to be "normal."

When parents lose their child, their hearts are broken. A huge hole is left. This hole will never heal - only the jagged edges around the hole may heal with time. Our grief, not always in the same form and maybe not as intense, will be with us the rest of our lives.

It does not matter how a child died or whether he was one week old or sixty years old. Nor does it matter whether there are surviving children. There is something absolute about the loss of each and every individual child.

Certain times of year will trigger intense sadness. Birthdays, anniversaries of the death, holidays, Mother's and Father's Day, weddings and funerals are just some. We can never properly prepare ourselves for these days. A simple "I am thinking of you and I know this day must be hard" goes a long way with bereaved parents.

~By Linda Waxler

WHEN YOU WISH UPON A STAR

Every time I am in a group of bereaved parents, I hear people say things like, "I wish my child hadn't died" or "I wish I had him back". Those wishes, unfortunately, can never come true. Another wish I hear is "I wish my friends (or church, or neighbors, or relatives) understood what I am going through and were more supportive." This is a wish that has some possibility of coming true if we are able to be honest and assertive with the people around us. What do we wish others understood about the loss of our child? Here is a partial list of such wishes:

1. I wish you would not be afraid to speak my child's name. My child lived and was important and I need to hear his name.

2. If I cry or get emotional if we talk about my child, I wish you knew that it isn't because you have hurt me; the fact that my child died has caused my tears. You have allowed me to cry and thank you. Crying and emotional outbursts are healing.

3. I wish you wouldn't "kill" my child again by removing from your home his pictures, artwork, or other remembrances.

4. I will have emotional highs and lows, ups and downs. I wish you wouldn't think that if I have a good day my grief is all over, or that if I have a bad day I need psychiatric counseling.

5. I wish you knew that the death of a child is different from other losses and must be viewed separately. It is the ultimate tragedy and I wish you wouldn't compare it to your loss of a parent, a spouse, or a pet.

6. Being a bereaved parent is not contagious so I wish you wouldn't shy away from me.

7. I wish you knew all of the "crazy" grief reactions that I am having are in fact very normal. Depression, anger, frustration, hopelessness, and the questioning of values and beliefs are to be expected following the death of a child.

8. I wish you wouldn't expect my grief to be over in six months. The first few years are going to be exceedingly traumatic for us. As with alcoholics, I will never be "cured" or a "former bereaved parent", but will forevermore be a "recovering bereaved parent".

9. I wish you understood the physical reactions to grief. I may gain weight or lose weight, sleep all the time or not at all, develop a host of illnesses and be accident-prone, all of which may be related to my grief.

10. Our child's birthday, the anniversary of his death, and holidays are a terrible times for us. I wish you would tell us that you are thinking about our child on these days, and if we get quiet and withdrawn, just know that we are thinking about our child and don't try to coerce us into being cheerful.

11. It is normal and good that most of us re-examine our faith, values, and beliefs after losing a child. We will question things we have been taught all our lives and hopefully come to some new understanding with our God. I wish you would let me tangle with my religion without making me feel guilty.

12. I wish you wouldn't offer me drinks or drugs. These are just temporary crutches, and the only way I can get through this grief is to experience it. I have to hurt before I can heal.

13. I wish you understood that grief changes people. I am not the same person I was before my child died and I never will be that person again. If you keep waiting for me to "get back to my old self", you will stay frustrated. I am a new creature with new thoughts, dreams, aspirations, values and beliefs. Please try to get to know the new me - - maybe you'll still like me.

Elaine Grier, TCF, Atlanta, GA

Please Let Me Mourn

Please let me mourn.

I’ve never lost a child before and I don’t understand all these emotions I’m feeling. Will you try to understand and help me?

Please let me mourn.

I may act and appear together but I am not. Oftentimes it hurts so much I can hardly bear it.

Please let me mourn.

Don’t expect too much from me. I will try to help you know what I can and can not handle. Sometimes I am not always sure.

Please let me mourn.

Let me talk about my child. I need to talk. It’s part of healing. Don’t pretend nothing has happened. It hurts terribly when you do. I love my child very much and my memories are all I have now. They are very precious to me.

Please let me mourn.

Sometimes I cry and act differently but it is all part of the grieving. My tears are necessary and needed and should not be held back. It even helps when you cry with me. Please don’t fear my tears.

Please let me mourn.

What I need most is your friendship, your sympathy, your prayers, your support and your understanding love. I am not the same person I was before my child died and I never will be. Hopefully we can all grow from this shared tragedy.

Please let me mourn.

God gives me strength to face each day and the hope that I will survive with His help and yours. Time will heal some of the pain but there will always be an empty place in my heart.

Please let me mourn…

…and thank you for helping me through the most difficult time of my life.

Lonnie Forland TCF-Northwood, IA

THE NEW NORMAL

*Normal is telling the story of our child's death over and over again as if it were a common every day occurrence and then gasping in horror about how awful it really sounds.

*Normal is sleepless nights filled with what if's and why didn't I's.

*Normal is feeling more comfortable at a cemetery than a family reunion.

*Normal is dreading that paperwork that will ask do you have children - is there even room to write yes but he/she is no longer living?

*Normal is becoming paralyzed at the sound of sirens.

*Normal is trying to decide how to decorate our child's grave instead of our house on dreaded holidays.

*Normal is checking to see if I am wearing two of the same shoes, while searching for the phone I'm actually talking on and grabbing my keys out of the freezer or some other strange place where I had forgotten I put them.

*Normal is feeling closer to someone in Canada than the person sitting next to me because they too share this new Normal.

*Normal is sitting at the computer trying to type through the tears and sharing my deepest pain with a complete stranger because they too know this pain.

*Normal is tears waiting behind every smile because my child is not here to share important moments in my life.

*Normal is not saying the words "happy" and "birthday" in the same sentence ever again.

*Normal is crying every single day and knowing tomorrow will be no different.

*Normal is knowing without a doubt that I can never be hurt this badly again for as long as I live.

*Normal is being afraid of everything yet being afraid of nothing and then wondering which is worse.

*Normal is knowing that I love my friends and family but in a sense pushing them away because they just can't understand.

*Normal is a constant sense of "loss of control" at any given time or at any given place because you never know when it will hit.

*Normal is an ache in the center of my chest that I am learning to live with yet it still has the ability to double me over without warning.

*Normal is not knowing how much longer I can sit somewhere without getting up and screaming to the top of my lungs.

*Normal is suddenly gasping for a breath because you realized that you had forgotten to breathe.

*Normal is waking up in the morning and wondering why.

*Normal is feeling resentment towards people when they complain about how awful their lives are because they can't pay a bill, or their kid lied or didn't do their chores, or because they are having relationship problems, or in my mind, other trivial problems.

*Normal is always remembering watching your child die, begging God to save your child, and being totally helpless to save your child.

*Normal is wanting to scream, "SAY HER NAME! SAY HIS NAME! TALK ABOUT HER! TALK ABOUT HIM! STOP SAYING SHE OR HER, HE OR HIM! SAY THEIR NAME!"

Written by Angel Roberson, TCF, Las Vegas
In Loving Memory of her beautiful dauhter Breanna Lindsay

COMPASSIONATE TEARS

 Nona Walser, TCF Greenville, SC

I cried in my car and was ignored.

I cried in church and was pitied.

I cried at work and was shunned.

I cried at home and was hushed.

I cried at The Compassionate Friends,

And others shared their tissues & tears.

 

I'VE LEARNED...

I’ve learned - that you cannot make someone love you. All you can do is be someone who can be loved. The rest is up to them.

I’ve learned - that no matter how much I care, some people just don’t care back.

I’ve learned - that it takes years to build up trust, and only seconds to destroy it.
I’ve learned - that no matter how good a friend is, they’re going to hurt you every once in a while and you must forgive them for that.

I’ve learned - that it’s not what you have in your life but who you have in your life that counts.

I’ve learned - that you should never ruin an apology with an excuse.

I’ve learned - that you can get by on your charm for about fifteen minutes. After that, you’d better know something.

I’ve learned - that you shouldn’t compare yourself to the best others can do.

I’ve learned - that you can do something in an instant that will give you heartache for life.

I’ve learned - that it’s taking me a long time to become the person I want to be.

I’ve learned - that you should always leave loved ones with loving words. It may be the last time you see them.

I’ve learned - that you can keep going long after you can’t.

I’ve learned - that we are responsible for what we do, no matter how we feel.

I’ve learned - that either you control your attitude or it controls you.

I’ve learned - that regardless of how hot and steamy a relationship is at first, the passion fades and there had better be something else to take its place.

I’ve learned - that heroes are the people who do what has to be done when it needs to be done, regardless of the consequences.

I’ve learned - that money is a lousy way of keeping score.

I’ve learned - that my best friend and I can do anything or nothing and have the best time.

I’ve learned - that sometimes the people you expect to kick you when you’re down will be the ones to help you get back up.

I’ve learned - that sometimes when I’m angry I have the right to be angry, but that doesn’t give me the right to be cruel.

I’ve learned - that true friendship continues to grow, even over the longest distance. The same goes for true love.

I’ve learned - that just because someone doesn’t love you the way you want them to doesn’t mean they don’t love you with all they have.

I’ve learned - that maturity has more to do with what types of experiences you’ve had and what you’ve learned from them and less to do with how many birthdays you’ve celebrated.

I’ve learned - that you should never tell a child their dreams are unlikely or outlandish. Few things are more humiliating, and what a tragedy it would be if they believed it.

I’ve learned - that your family won’t always be there for you. It may seem funny, but people you aren’t related to can take care of you and love you, and teach you to trust people again. Families aren’t biological.

I’ve learned - that it isn’t always enough to be forgiven by others. Sometimes you are to learn to forgive yourself.

I’ve learned - that no matter how bad your heart is broken the world doesn’t stop for your grief.

I’ve learned - that our background and circumstances may have influenced who we are, but we are responsible for who we become.

I’ve learned - that a rich person is not the one who has the most but is one who needs the least.

I’ve learned - that just because two people argue, it doesn’t mean they don’t love each other. And just because they don’t argue, it doesn’t mean they do.

I’ve learned - that we don’t have to change friends if we understand that friends change.

I’ve learned - that you shouldn’t be so eager to find out a secret. It could change your life forever.

I’ve learned - that two people can look at the exact same thing and see something totally different.

I’ve learned - that no matter how you try to protect your children, they will eventually get hurt and you will be hurt in the process.

I’ve learned - that even when you think you have no more to give when a friend cries out to you, you will find the strength to help.

I’ve learned - that credentials on the wall do not make you a decent human being.

I’ve learned - that the people you care about most in life are taken from you too soon.

I’ve learned - that it’s hard to determine where to draw the line between being nice and not hurting people’s feelings, and standing up for what you believe.

I’ve learned - that people will forget what you said, and people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.

~ Unknown Author

MERRY CHRISTMAS FROM HEAVEN

  I still hear the songs
I still see the lights
I still feel your love

on cold wintry nights

I still share your hopes
and all of your cares
I'll even remind you
to please say your prayers

I just want to tell you
you still make me proud
You stand head and shoulders
above all the crowd

Keep trying each moment
to stay in His grace
I came here before you
to help set your place

You don't have to be
perfect all of the time
He forgives you the slip
If you continue the climb

To my family and friends
please be thankful today
I'm still close beside you
In a new special way

I love you all dearly
now don't shed a tear
Cause I'm spending my
Christmas with Jesus this year

Copyright 1990 John Wm. Mooney. Jr.

Pardon Me!

Pardon me for embarassing you or causing you any discomfort.
Please feel free to enjoy the sun, the sky, the trees,
your smiling partner, your beautiful children.

Yes, I just love your tree this year.
No, you never can have too much tinsel.
After all, it is Christmas!

Yes, I quite understand that you'd rather we stay away.
Its been fun, the family lunch, all these years.
But I quite understand that my incomplete family
distresses you.

Of course, I want you to have a merry christmas
to keep believeing in Santa Claus.
If you see my pain-ravaged face - and don't see my daughter -
you'll see that the sky isn't quite as blue
as you thought it was
you'll feel that the sun isn't quite as warm
as you hoped it was
And your Christmas will be - well, less merry.

And no, I wouldn't want that.
So I quite understand why we're not invited this year.
After all, what's the point?
Santa can't mend broken hearts.

Helping a grieving person tip 4: Watch for warning signs

It’s common for a grieving person to feel depressed, confused, disconnected from others, or like they’re going crazy. But if the bereaved person’s symptoms don’t gradually start to fade – or they get worse with time – this may be a sign that normal grief has evolved into a more serious problem, such as clinical depression.

Encourage the grieving person to seek professional help if you observe any of the following warning signs after the initial grieving period – especially if it’s been over two months since the death.

• Difficulty functioning in daily life
• Extreme focus on the death
• Excessive bitterness, anger, or guilt
• Neglecting personal hygiene
• Alcohol or drug abuse
• Inability to enjoy life
• Hallucinations
• Withdrawing from others
• Constant feelings of hopelessness
• Talking about dying or suicide

It can be tricky to bring up your concerns to the bereaved person. You don’t want to perceived as invasive. Instead of telling the person what to do, try stating your own feelings: “I am troubled by the fact that you aren’t sleeping – perhaps you should look into getting help.”

Helping a grieving person tip 3: Provide ongoing support

Grieving continues long after the funeral is over and the cards and flowers have stopped. The length of the grieving process varies from person to person. But in general, grief lasts much longer than most people expect. Your bereaved friend or family member may need your support for months or even years.

• Continue your support over the long haul. Stay in touch with the grieving person, periodically checking in, dropping by, or sending letters or cards. Your support is more valuable than ever once the funeral is over, the other mourners are gone, and the initial shock of the loss has worn off.
• Don’t make assumptions based on outward appearances. The bereaved person may look fine on the outside, while inside he or she is suffering. Avoid saying things like “You are so strong” or “You look so well.” This puts pressure on the person to keep up appearances and to hide his or her true feelings.
• The pain of bereavement may never fully heal. Be sensitive to the fact that life may never feel the same. You don’t “get over” the death of a loved one. The bereaved person may learn to accept the loss. The pain may lessen in intensity over time. But the sadness may never completely go away.
• Offer extra support on special days. Certain times and days of the year will be particularly hard for your grieving friend or family member. Holidays, family milestones, birthdays, and anniversaries often reawaken grief. Be sensitive on these occasions. Let the bereaved person know that you’re there for whatever he or she needs.

Helping a grieving person tip 2: Offer practical assistance

It is difficult for many grieving people to ask for help. They might feel guilty about receiving so much attention, fear being a burden, or be too depressed to reach out. You can make it easier for them by making specific suggestions – such as, “I’m going to the market this afternoon. What can I bring you from there?” or “I’ve made beef stew for dinner. When can I come by and bring you some?”

Consistency is very helpful, if you can manage it – being there for as long as it takes. This helps the grieving person look forward to your attentiveness without having to make the additional effort of asking again and again. You can also convey an open invitation by saying, “Let me know what I can do,” which may make a grieving person feel more comfortable about asking for help. But keep in mind that the bereaved may not have the energy or motivation to call you when they need something, so it’s better if you take the initiative to check in.

Be the one who takes the initiative

There are many practical ways you can help a grieving person. You can offer to:

• Shop for groceries or run errands
• Drop off a casserole or other type of food
• Help with funeral arrangements
• Stay in their home to take phone calls and receive guests
• Help with insurance forms or bills
• Take care of housework, such as cleaning or laundry
• Watch their children or pick them up from school
• Drive them wherever they need to go
• Look after their pets
• Go with them to a support group meeting
• Accompany them on a walk
• Take them to lunch or a movie
• Share an enjoyable activity (game, puzzle, art project)

Helping a grieving person tip 1: Listen with compassion

Almost everyone worries about what to say to people who are grieving. But knowing how to listen is much more important. Oftentimes, well-meaning people avoid talking about the death or mentioning the deceased person. However, the bereaved need to feel that their loss is acknowledged, it’s not too terrible to talk about, and their loved one won’t be forgotten.

While you should never try to force someone to open up, it’s important to let the bereaved know they have permission to talk about the loss. Talk candidly about the person who died and don’t steer away from the subject if the deceased’s name comes up. When it seems appropriate, ask sensitive questions – without being nosy – that invite the grieving person to openly express his or her feelings. Try simply asking, “Do you feel like talking?”

• Accept and acknowledge all feelings. Let the grieving person know that it’s okay to cry in front of you, to get angry, or to break down. Don’t try to reason with them over how they should or shouldn’t feel. The bereaved should feel free to express their feelings, without fear of judgment, argument, or criticism.
• Be willing to sit in silence. Don’t press if the grieving person doesn’t feel like talking. You can offer comfort and support with your silent presence. If you can’t think of something to say, just offer eye contact, a squeeze of the hand, or a reassuring hug.
• Let the bereaved talk about how their loved one died. People who are grieving may need to tell the story over and over again, sometimes in minute detail. Be patient. Repeating the story is a way of processing and accepting the death. With each retelling, the pain lessens.
• Offer comfort and reassurance without minimizing the loss. Tell the bereaved that what they’re feeling is okay. If you’ve gone through a similar loss, share your own experience if you think it would help. However, don’t give unsolicited advice, claim to “know” what the person is feeling, or compare your grief to theirs.

Understanding Grief...

The better your understanding of grief and how it is healed, the better equipped you’ll be to help a bereaved friend or family member:

• There is no right or wrong way to grieve. Grief does not alwaysunfold in orderly, predictable stages. It can be an emotional rollercoaster, with unpredictable highs, lows, and setbacks. Everyone grieves differently, so avoid telling the bereaved what they “should” be feeling or doing.
• Grief may involve extreme emotions and behaviors. Feelings of guilt, anger, despair, and fear are common. A grieving person may yell to the heavens, obsess about the death, lash out at loved ones, or cry for hours on end. The bereaved need reassurance that what they’re feeling is normal. Don’t judge them or take their grief reactions personally.
• There is no set timetable for grieving. For many people, recovery after bereavement takes 18 to 24 months, but for others, the grieving process may be longer or shorter. Don’t pressure the bereaved to move on or make them feel like they’ve been grieving too long. This can actually slow their healing.

Dear Mom...

Dear Mom,

I know this is a rough time for you. So I will be as gentle as I can be.
.
First of all, thank you for so many tears, particularly those shared with another that you love. They are a gift to me, a precious tribute to your investment in me. As you do your mourning, do it at your pace only.
.
Don't let anybody suggest that you do your grief work on their timetable. Do whatever it takes to face directly the reality of what has happened, even though you may need to pause frequently & yearn for my return. Do this with courage & my blessings.
.
Know that sometimes inertia is the only movement possible. Give your best to keeping a balance between remembering me & renewing your commitments to life. It's okay with me if you go through minutes, hours & even days not thinking about me. I know that you'll never forget. Loosening me & grabbing hold of a new meaning is a delicate art. I'm not sure if one comes before the other or not, maybe it's a combination.
.
Be with people who accept you as you are.
.
Mention my name out loud, & if they don't make a hasty retreat, they're probably excellent candidates for friendship. If, by a remote possibility, you think that there is anything that you could have done for me & didn't, I forgive you, as my Lord does.
.
Resentment does not abide here, only love. You know how people sometimes ask you how many children you have? Well, I'm still yours & you are still my Mom.
.
Always acknowledge that with tenderness, unless to do so would fall on insensitive ears or would be painful to you. I know how you feel inside. To be included as your child honors me. Read, even though your tears anoint the page.
.
There is an immense library here & I have a card. In Henri Nowens' (sic) "Out of Solitude" he writes, "The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair & confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief & bereavement, who can tolerate not healing, & face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares."
.
Mom, I don't know where you are spiritually now, but rest assured that our God is not gone. The still small voice you hear in your heart is His voice. The warmth that sometimes enfolds you is Him. The tears that tremble just beneath your heartbeat is Him. He is in you, as I am. I want you to know that I am okay.
.
I have sent you messages to ease your pain, they come in the form of flowers that bloom out of season, birds singing, voices & visions & sometimes through your friends & even strangers who volunteer as angels.
.
Stay open but don't expect the overly dramatic :) You will get what you need & it may be simply an internal peace. You are not crazy, you have been comforted.
.
Please seek out people bereaved longer than you. They are tellers of truth, & if they have done their work, are an inspiration & a beacon of hope whose pain lessened dramatically & one more wisdom before I close. There are still funny happenings in our world. It delights me to no end when I hear your spontaneous, uncontrolled laughter. That, too, will come in due time. Today, I light a candle for you. Joined with your candle, let their light shine above the darkness.
.
Affectionately,
Your Loving Angel child.
Greggy Jr xoxo

A Bereaved Parent’s Wish List

 

 

 

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 as well.



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 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 said and I might cry, but I wish you would let me talk about my child, my favorite topic of the day.



I know that 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 things through a phone call, a card or a note, or a real big hug.



I wish you wouldn’t expect my grief to be over in six months. These first months are traumatic for me, but 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.



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. I wish you could understand that I’m doing good to handle him at an hour at a time.



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 my grief, my silence and my tears, my void and my pain. But I pray daily that you will never understand.



Today marks 26 weeks or 6 months... since Greggy has been gone... Does anyone have a clue?

Please do not avoid me...

Please do not avoid me,
Even if you don’t know what to say.
If you have not lost a child,
I know you cannot imagine my pain.
The thought of it terrifies you...

Please say William's name.
If you speak of him,
You will most likely see a smile rather than a tear.
Do not say I am strong, that you could not bear the loss.
Believe me, you have no idea how this would affect you.

If I cry, it does not mean I am weak.
If I smile, it does not mean I am strong.
It just means I am human.
Please support my journey of grief.
It may never end.
The journey may start with lost dreams,
Sadness and despair.
We will also find William's essence,
Hope, happiness,
And love of life.

Vance Robinson, 10/10/10

{Ditto for me, just replace William with Greggy Jr.}

This Too Will Pass Away...

If I can endure for this minute

Whatever is happening to me,

No matter how heavy my heart is

Or how "dark" the moment may be--



If I can remain calm & quiet

With all my world crashing about me,

Secure in the knowledge God Loves Me

When everyone else seems to doubt me--



If I can but keep on believing

What I know in my heart to be true,

That "darkness will fade with the morning"

And, that THIS WILL PASS AWAY, TOO--



Then nothing in life can defeat me,

For as long as this knowledge remains

I can suffer whatever is happening

For I know God will break "all the chains"

That are binding me tight in "THE DARKNESS"

And trying to fill me with fear--



For there is NO NIGHT WITHOUT DAWNING

And I know that "MY MORNING" is near...

Written by our Oldest Son...

The story of my brother...

Today is a day of an old endeavor; One that we remember Back 19 years to this September; On the second, a baby beckoned. I am not a girl; I’m a boy, a boy, Oh how the room filled with joy. Life was a gift, in which we all received, but Greggy’s had no boundaries. And in its self it was hell, with the best view into heaven. I wish I could say it was an easy day; but all we could do was desperately pray. Hoping, for a full life with his family, or a quick return to God...However, Fate, is a game of dice, and even those who are so nice, Have to pay the price of those all powerful dice. And we cannot look into our destiny as if it were a book. Just like our poor boy was not a crook, only very mistook. Since without a challenge there is no good, The Lord must test us all, and many have to fall. We have to crawl, to answer our calling. And my brother was always crawling. How the time seemed so unimportant, Oh what I would give to have redeemed my long lost moments...But today is a day to remember, that lost young boy, who had to climb. Climb he did, to the very top, just in time, before that unexpected stop. Oh he hit his prime in such a shine; that little boy, who looked up at me, was now a man... A man up in the clouds...

written on: 9-2-2010 - by: Joseph E. Whale

Posted on: http://www.legacy.com/guestbook/pennlive/guestbook.aspx?n=gregory-whale&pid=142333529&cid=full

David's Eulogy...

At our Youngest Son's Memorial Service, Our Middle Son, David, stood up & said:

"... I came up with a good analogy on why my Mom called a thousand people that 1st day & why all of us here are gonna go home & tell someone else & why I'm standing here telling all of you... ---> My Brother, Greggy dying was like us, our family receiving a 50,000 Slice Pizza... It'll take a long time for us to eat that pizza, it's gonna give us a lot of heartburn, and a lot of stomach aches. But every time I talk about it, it's like giving you a slice. It doesn't mean that when we're done with that pizza it's gone, it just means that it'll be a lot easier to swallow. Right here, I'm giving away a lot of pizza. It doesn't make that 50,000 number any smaller, but it does in the long run... Every time I think about him, Every time I turn to my girlfriend & tell her that story that I just thought about, I'm giving her another piece, She's gonna have a little bit of Heart-burn in the process, but the point is, It's gonna go away..."

- He shared with us a few memories, that was able to make us all laugh & then he said: -

"... I'm glad I was able to give each one of you a piece of Pizza today... Thank You all for Being here"

When You Lose A Son, It IS All Right To...

Scream in the shower;

Yell in the car;
Wail into the air;
Cry anywhere you like;
Misplace your glasses;
Lose your keys;
Forget your friend's name;
Feel hurt by those who forget you;
Get frustrated with others who "don't get it";
Talk about your child all of the time;
Beat up a pillow;
Tune Others Out;
Change grocery stores if it hurts too much;
Wear one black shoe & one navy;
Have tear stains on your tie;
Eat ice-cream for breakfast;
Cry anywhere & everywhere;
Not eat when you just can't;
Write a love letter;
Bake his favorite cookies;
Not wash his clothes so you can smell him;
Lie in his bed & cry;
Celebrate his life on his Birthday;
Talk to your pets (they understand);
Leave his room the way it is for as long as you like;
Say his name just to hear the sound;
Talk to strangers about him;
Tell Loved ones what you need;
Say "no" when you feel like it;
Cancel plans if you want;
And
Have a REALLY BAD DAY!

And, One Day, when you are ready, it's alright to...
Laugh again;
Go out to dinner with friends;
Dance & feel attractive;
Look forward to something...

From Grief-Haven - A Haven of Hope...
Susan Whitmore (President)

Six months ago today,

Six months ago today,
was the day you passed away.
I can't believe this time has passed.
It seems just yesterday that together we laughed.
My heart still hurts, it aches with pain.
There is no cure, it will never be the same.
As it was the day before then,
I miss you so much. Will this heartache ever end?
I still wonder why. Why you aren't with us still.
Like I said before, that's not how I feel.
I feel as though you're just a phone call away.
Then I remember Six months ago today.
I will always hold a special place for you in my heart.
It will only grow bigger, till the day that I depart.
From the earth to the sky, I just cannot wait,
for the day that we meet again at Heaven's gate.
I know you brought happiness to all up above.
As you left happy memories with us filled with love.
I feel safe knowing you are watching over me.
I know that you're gone, but with me spiritually.
I'm mentally broken, I can never relive this pain.
I will always remember... Six months ago today...

by Sarah Garton.

IN THE BEGINNING

Your child has died and you’ve entered this strange new world of bereavement, where many people like you think they are losing their mind. Others, who have not had your experience, think that you will “get over” the loss of your child. Neither of these assertions is true. Eventually, when you’ve had the necessary time and proper support, you will find the pain will lessen, as you learn how to live with this terrible loss. You won’t like it as well as the way things were before the death, but it will be better than the fresh grief. Time is of the utmost importance, as is patience. Although we tire of dealing with the sorrow of it all, we ultimately learn that no one is able to hurt with the intensity of fresh grief forever. Scars do develop where there was one raw pain. Isn’t that good to know?

HOW LONG WILL THIS FEELING LAST?

You wonder how or if you can survive this devastation and how long it will take for some normalcy to return to your life. Well, there are no timetables. You will be quoted times like two years, and it is true that some people will work through the process in that length of time. It is also true that some people take a longer time, others a shorter time. It all depends on your needs and how you have dealt with other losses in your life.

SHOCK

Most of us experience shock. This can last differing times for different people. Some look back on it as a blessing, for it is nature’s way of protecting us from the full impact of all that we’ve lost. It’s difficult to imagine that anyone can physically stand it if all of that occurs at once, so nature does a kind thing. It wraps us in a protective cocoon that keeps out much of the pain. It allows us to continue functioning as we take care of the necessary things involved with the solemn task of making plans for the final rights of someone we love. Some people find themselves taking care of others during this time. Bystanders may comment on how well we are doing and admire our great strength never understanding that it was our cocoon doing its job.

DENIAL

Some people experience denial. When nature’s cocoon starts disintegrating and the pain starts coming in, they try to provide their own cocoon. They do this by denying that the death has taken place.

“He’s not dead. He’s visiting Grandmother,” or “She’s not dead. She’s visiting with her friends.”

They’re somewhere, but they’re not dead. This is called denial, and it’s a normal thing for some people to try to extend nature’s cocoon. It works for a while, but that invented protective coating also dissolves. That may be when we find ourselves dealing with the reality of our loss. It doesn’t get better for a while, but we’ve touched bottom for now.

Some people bypass these diversionary tactics. They go directly to the heart of the matter and their grief starts right away. They may be the luckier ones, for they deal right away with what has to be dealt with before their grief can soften.

ANGER

Anger is another emotion that rears its head. It is a very normal reaction when someone dear to us has died. Although society frowns on anger and doesn’t understand why it happens after a death, it’s nothing that we should be ashamed about. The truth is, we are angry because our child has died. We look for someone to blame. It could be the doctors and nurses, if our child died in a hospital. A spouse, relatives or friends who do or say the wrong things in their efforts to comfort, may also be

blamed. Then, too, our religious beliefs may have to undergo some questioning. If we had depended on God to take care of our family, we may have anger at Him for His failure, as we see it. It may take some time for us to make peace with our God. There are ways of directing your anger into positive things. Physical activity, such as hard work and sports, may help, as well as breaking dishes, screaming in the shower and anything else that relieves tension and doesn’t allow anger to be turned inward and become depression. Telling our experience enough times until we’ve exhausted the need to tell it anymore or crying whenever and wherever a good cry helps is a good tension breaker too.

GUILT

Someone has said that if one separates grief from guilt, he/she will cut grief in half. There is much truth in that statement. Being human, none of us is totally free of regret over something large or small that was in some way connected with our children. The brain, being the devious thing that it can be at times, seems determined to punish us by recalling even the smallest thing. It makes one regret not being more capable, when making decisions, in other words, more perfect. Guilt comes from parenting instincts that say we are responsible for whatever happens to our children, good or bad. We learn that we aren’t the all-powerful people that we had thought. Some think guilt is an attempt to make some sense of the senselessness of your child’s death, or an answer to the unanswerable WHY.

We must try to remember that we loved our child and we did the best we could. No amount of guilt ever changed anything. Excessive guilt is a wasted emotion. It is only good where planning ahead, pointless when looking back.

COMMON COMPLAINTS

Common complaints among bereaved parents include the loss of the ability to concentrate, excessive fatigue, inability to sleep or sleeping too much, loss of appetite, physical complaints, such as stomach disorders. It is good to know that time and patience will help to alleviate many of the conditions.

THE FUTURE

An aerial view of the road of grief would show us just how arduous the road really is. We go along on the straight and narrow for a short time, only to suddenly veer right or left into the steep, rough terrain of uncharted land. One can see that sometimes the road crisscrosses and returns to already traveled sections that have to be covered again. If we noted when our road made the wildest and most unexpected turns, we would see that the dates of special family-oriented events coincide with those trips deep into the hinterlands. Such times as birthdays, holidays, death dates, Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, season changes, school beginnings and endings, and any date that is important in a family’s history, all have signs near them that clearly mark them as detours.

Although the terrain alongside us is uncharted now, this time next year it will be more familiar. At least the unknowns of the year of ‘firsts’ will be behind us. Isn’t it good to know that one day we will emerge from this strange, new road that we have been traveling on and find ourselves back in the more familiar territory? Some of your landmarks will have changed, but there will be enough of the familiar to make us feel more comfortable. We will find we have left the most painful part of our grief back there on that road someplace.

In the meantime, go to the nearest Bereaved Parents meeting. All those there will be parents who have lost at least one child. Let the people there with more experience show how to live with the temporary “insanity” in as sane a way as possible. It is comforting to find that we can again find meaning and purpose in life after the death of a child.

Don't Think...

Don't think, that if you don't see me shedding tears for my son
It doesn't mean my heart doesn't hurt every single day for him...

Don't think, that if you don't see me crumpled to the ground
Cursing at everyone involved, that I don't miss him every second...

Don't think, that if you don't see me sitting here holding his urn
Staring at the walls, that I don't talk to him every moment...

Don't think, that if you don't see me, caressing his pictures,
Holding his clothing, that I don't want to trade places with him...

Just because you don't see me do all of those things,
Doesn't mean I don't do them every day...

It just means that I don't let you see me that way...