Tears To Hope

Death of a Child: What’s it like at 10 years?

brianrodgers — Thu, 03 Apr 2008 20:02:31 +0000

by Richard Edler, from The Compassionate Friends

January 11, 2002… Ten Years? Sometime it seems like yesterday. Sometimes it seems like it never happened. Most of the time, it is somewhere in between. It has been 10 years today since Mark died.

When I wrote Into the Valley and Out Again, I chronicled first one day, then one week, then the first month, and year.

Now it is 10. Here are my thoughts.

The hurt never goes away. We never forget. We never get over it. We don’t want to. We hurt so much because we loved so much. But the focus on death and the event fades, and the warmth of good memories replaces it. Oh, we can still go back there in an instant. Back to the call, the moment, the good-bye. Back to the night that will forever separate our life between `”before” and “after”. But we now go back less and less. Time helps a lot.

I have fewer friends. Better friends, mind you, but fewer. I am out of the circle now. My Rolodex is cold. My networking, which used to be razor sharp, has atrophied. My power lunches have become tuna fish sandwiches. But the amazing thing is how much I don’t care. I miss some special people, so I go out of my way to stay in touch, and that is enough.

I have new and different priorities. I move through life a little slower, a little more tuned to life around me, and to life gone too soon. I brake for sunsets. I hurt for the people who share this walk with me. Since Mark died, hundreds, and then thousands of children have died. I feel for them and for their families in a way I could never have understood before. I value people more than things, moments more than milestones, and I no longer equate what I do with who I am.

I am not having the life I expected to have. I recall an old saying, “Man plans…God laughs.” Dennis Prager, an author and Los Angeles radio talk-show host, said that unhappiness equals image minus reality. What he meant is that you are unhappy when your image of where you should be is dramatically different from where you really are.

When a child dies, the reality of the life we are going to have is altered forever. I am no longer going to be Mark’s dad. I am no longer going to join him at UCLA football games. I am no longer going to be a grandfather to the children he will never have. If that gap between image and reality is a recipe for unhappiness, well, then the reverse is also true. If you “solve” the equation of happiness, happiness equals image matched closely with reality. So I have had to change my image to match the new reality.

I like my new life better. This makes me feel guilty because I would trade my life in an instant if I could have Mark back. But I really do like the person I have become since Mark died. I don’t even know that person from 10 years ago. Back then, my life purpose was to run a large advertising agency. Today, it is to give back to gratitude for the joy of the life I have been given. I want to make Mark proud. I want to be a blessing to others. And I want to enjoy the journey too. I still have a grief that goes unspoken. Who will listen at 10 years? Yes I still miss Mark. But I miss him quietly and silently. I grieve for his loss; for the loss of the person he would have become (he would be 28 now, but instead is forever 18); and also for the loss of the life I would be having if he were here.

I have an overwhelming sense of gratitude. I have been blessed beyond measure. I have a surviving son who has given me more joy than I could imagine any parent having…and now a beautiful daughter-in-law, and a granddaughter. Gratitude is one of the most helpful and healing things you can do on your grief journey. And with gratitude come thanks. So in gratitude, Kitty and I made a list this week of the people who where there for us when we needed them most. These are the people who dropped everything in their lives on a moment’s phone call, and rushed to our side. These are the people with whom we are joined forever, and who, no matter how far they drift, or what unimportant spats we might have, will always have a special place in our heart. You make your own list. Then find those people wherever they are, and say thank you.

I choose joy over sadness. If there is one overriding thought in these years, including 10 TCF conferences in a row, it is simply this: Grief is inevitable; misery is optional. It does no good to sit in a hole. It does no good for the loss of one to lead to the loss of two.

What does do good is doing good. To decide to lead the second part of your life differently and better than you would have before…in your child’s name. When we do that…when we do one small act of kindness we never would have done before…when we reach out to other bereaved parents because we can, and because we have been there…then the world is changed in some small way for the better, and then the actions we take become a living tribute to our child’s life. And then that child is never entirely gone.

And that, my friends, is how it looks at 10 years for me.

Reflections on Suicide

brianrodgers — Tue, 01 Apr 2008 18:13:12 +0000

Judith Harrington, Ph.D.
Approved Trainer for the American Association of Suicidology
State Suicide Prevention Task Force Coordinator

When I was a child, I learned from a radio report that my mother’s cousin and her husband died in a murder-suicide. I was with my mother as she heard this news for the first time. Many years later, the seeds of that experience, in part, grew into my becoming the Bereavement Coordinator for The Crisis Center in Birmingham. The last nine years or so I have heard close to three hundred persons’ stories about the loss of their loved one to suicide. These parents, sisters, brothers, wives, husbands, partners, and adult children have left me with much to ponder, but mostly to be inspired to work towards the prevention of suicide. Suicide is a preventable death and can be made so by improved public education, recognition of and taking seriously the warning signs, and a linking of arms between the families, community resources, and medical and mental health professionals so as to create a safety net for those at risk.

Many people believe that suicide is a choice…that someone “commits” suicide. More recent literature from the field of suicidology promotes the idea that suicide seems unavoidable to the at-risk person due to excruciating psychological pain, hopelessness, a belief that nothing would help, and co-occurring conditions such as clinical depression, bipolar disorder, perfectionism, and so on. These variables create a psychiatric emergency. Like other medical emergencies, suicide is not something that should be morally condemned. We tend to not condemn a person who is having a heart attack; rather we call on our tried and true public health response called CPR. There is even an equivalent to this model in the form of QPR developed by Dr. Paul Quinnett, who trains thousands of persons a year to Question, Persuade and Refer. His is one of many models for prevention and intervention.

Not only is the reaction to suicidal risk at the preventative stage complicated by the general public’s misinformation or tendency to moralize suicide, and therefore potentially miss opportunities to intervene, but also the “postventive” stage is riddled with awkwardness and uncharted norms for how to be helpful to the bereft who have lost a loved one to this terrible tragedy.

Recently I asked some survivors to consider responding to the following questions: (A survivor is a family member or friend who has lost a loved one to suicide, as contrasted with an attempter, who has attempted and survived a suicide attempt.)

1. What is the most significant thing about this loss that is different than other types of losses?

2. What has been the hardest thing about this loss?

3. Over the time that you have been grieving, how would you describe how things have changed for the better or for the worse? In other words, can you help others to know a little something about the grief journey?

4. Any other comments?

Here are the reflections of a few close to the tragedy of suicide.

C wrote that I lost my spouse to suicide Saturday, June 16, 2007.

S offered I lost my son on December 17, 2006.

P shared I lost my 51 year old sister on January 1, 2007. She left behind a 17 year old child.

M described that I lost a father to suicide on May 25^th, 2007.

In response to question number 1, What is the most significant thing about this loss that is different than other types of losses? these respondents wrote:

C: Having lost my father to cancer on February 23, 2006, I would say that the greatest difference in the loss is that my spouse “chose” to take his own life. My father died from an illness, so there is reasoning behind the death. Whereas, my mate decided that mistakes that had been made and decisions that had been made were too difficult to handle. I was pushed away long before the suicide occurred. It was a permanent “solution” to a temporary problem.

S: I have lost my mother, my father, and a boyfriend, but the loss of my child to suicide does not even compare, especially since I was not able to tell him goodbye. Not only do I miss him, but the fact that I will never know exactly why he did it haunts me everyday.

P: My sister’s child is someone that I believe I should care for and look out for, but her death has left us somewhat estranged. Our family believes that he knew his mother was going to commit suicide and did not seek help from any family member. My sister was addicted to prescription drugs and was going through her second divorce. The difference with her death was the conflicting feelings that resulted. I had no peace about her death, and I was angry, mad, and filled with guilt. I even stomped on her grave the first time I went after her burial.

M: Suicide is a much different type of loss to deal with, as opposed to death from natural causes. Having lost my mother to cancer, and my father to suicide, I have experienced the differences first hand. For me personally, even though it has been 8 months, I am still dealing with the “suicide” grief. I am continually asking myself “why” or “what could I have done?” I know these are entirely normal responses, but I feel that I must allow myself to experience them in order to get into the more typical grieving process. With the loss of my mother to cancer, I feel I was able to begin the healing process almost immediately. It hasn’t been the case with the loss of my father. Additionally a major issue I have struggled with over the past months is the reaction from people around me. The reaction has been so different than other deaths in my family. There is such a stigma attached to the word “suicide.” People haven’t asked me how I am coping. I don’t know the reason behind it; maybe they are afraid or uncomfortable.

To item number 2 above, what has been the hardest thing about this loss? the survivors offered these responses.

C: The hardest thing about this loss is the not knowing what were the thoughts at the time it happened. What was so bad that suicide seemed to be the only answer?

S: By far, the hardest thing about losing him is thinking about the pain and loneliness he must have been feeling when he hung himself. Although I struggle everyday to get past the guilt I feel for not being there for him at that time, I can’t seem to stop it. I regret that he never had the chance to live an adult life free of that pain.

P: The hardest thing for me is dealing with the guilt. I ask “what if” still, and it has been over a
year. It’s a game I constantly play in my head. She left a suicide note that I found 6 days after her death. It would have been better if she had not left that note. It seemed to point directly at me for not coming to her aid during a most difficult time in her life.

M: The hardest party about losing my father to suicide is the feeling of being an “orphan.” On one hand I am glad that my Mother wasn’t here to experience this, but on the other hand it would have helped my coping to have her here. I feel more isolated at times, and am sad that my parents will never know my children.

Survivors had this to say about question number 3, Over the time that you have been grieving, how would you describe how things have changed for the better or for the worse? In other words, can you help others to know a little something about the grief journey?

C: My grief journey has been full of anger. My spouse cleaned out our bank accounts, left me with a house that was being foreclosed on because I did not know that house payments had fallen behind, and a 2003 vehicle was so damaged that the repairs would cost more than it was worth. It took me nearly six months to come to terms and still bills pop up that were put in my name. This in turn begins the anger all over again. I have come to realize, that I had no control over the suicide happening or not happening. I do not feel guilty or responsible that cocaine and crystal meth was chosen over me. These drugs only enhanced the suicidal desires. My life now is much better than it was a year and even two years ago. That’s not to say that I don’t miss my mate, or rather the true person who used to be who I was married to before the drugs. I grieve for what should have been and not for what was. The Lord has used this situation to bring my walk closer to Him, and I hope that I will be able to use what I have learned from this situation to help someone else.

S: It has been a little over a year for me. I actually have days now that I think about him without crying, but sometimes the pain is still as bad as if it were yesterday. I force myself to continue to go out with friends, and I work constantly in order to keep my mind from obsession about his death. However, every day is a struggle. In order to try to work through my grief, I try to write in my journal every day. I write down exactly how I am feeling on that day, whether it is a good day or a bad day. I think this helps release some of those pent up feelings, because after a period of time, people tend to forget that you are still grieving and life does go on for them and for you.

P: I have changed a great deal since my sister’s death. I do not take anything for granted. The few months after her death I played the role of private investigator, wanting to know how every single thing transpired. I also wanted to know exactly where my loved ones were at all times. I also read the note over and over looking for anything that might give me relief or solace. My husband finally put all those things downstairs, and he told me if I needed the material to come to him and explains why. I have not asked to see anything in several months. This first anniversary, January 1, 2008, sent me back into depression, where I relived the days before and immediately after her suicide. I am getting a little better now. However, I know that I must continue my counseling and that attending SOS meetings are very important. It helps to know you are not crazy with the feelings that you have, and that there will come a day when I won’t be so consumed with this event in my life. I know it will always be there, but I don’t have to let it consume my whole life.

M: The grief journey dealing with my Father’s death is still fresh for me. I have strength in God, who is ever present. However, I feel God designed the grieving process and wants us to experience healing through that process. I don’t feel there is a quick fix out there for dealing with the loss of a loved one, other than taking time to grieve and making sure we don’t stuff our feelings. I have hope that I will be able to help others deal with grief because of the grief I have experienced.

And finally, some had these additional comments:

M: Another factor to consider with a survivor to suicide is the life changes that take place afterward. So many like me who lose loved ones to suicide decide to move or relocate. Because the suicide occurred in my home, I felt it would be impossible to return there. This created an entirely new problem for my spouse and me. We felt displaced. We have friends who were displaced from their home due to a tornado. We shared an unexpected commonality. This is just another example of a problem that compounds the grieving process.

S: I have found that trying to stay positive helps me the most. The most horrible thing has happened to me, but it cannot be changed. I cannot tell you how many people have come to me to talk over their problems or their grief. Some know about what happened in my life, and others did not have a clue. I like to think there is something about me now that is reaching out to others and that I am helping them in some small way.

It may be a reflex of some to read these remarks above and to become judgmental about, for example, the disclosures that their loved ones struggled with addiction or financial problems. Remember that the landscape of suicide is very broad, and there is not an easy “point A to point B” reasoning about suicide. The mental community recognizes chemical dependency as an illness with behavioral coping as a path to recovery. And most of the persons I have ever met felt that their loved one died, not in order to be selfish or to hurl an angry “statement” to their loved ones, but rather that the deceased felt like such a disappointment or embarrassment to their family, helpless and despondent beyond hope.

And finally, the feeling of guilt is almost universally felt with the many survivors I have met and you can feel this theme from the responses above. I have heard so many persons say things like, If I had just come home 5 minutes earlier or if I had just returned the phone call, or if I had just made absolutely sure that she knew how much I loved her, and so on and so on. Remember that the primary feelings of the human condition are sad, mad, glad and scared. Guilt is a constructed state of mind that we experience in relation to our social and moral code of honor as designed by our culture’s current standards. For example, it is appropriate to feel guilt if one has committed a crime. But guilt for the survivor of suicide, I believe, is both a “boomerang feeling” and a byproduct of trauma. There is no chance for the survivor to work through the difficulties with their deceased loved one, and there is a void or vacuum instead of an opportunity to work towards a resolution. It is as if the void creates a boomerang effect so that the survivor is left only with feelings that “fly back upon themselves”, an internalized (as contrasted with an external process of working through) sense of personal responsibility for what happened. Further, the trauma of suicide, I believe, creates in us a need to equalize the out-of-control feelings. We want to believe with all our heart that if we had done such and such, then we could have controlled for this horrible out-of-control situation. When the traumatic reaction (which is very normal) subsides, and healing can begin, then survivors can begin to let go of the need for control that they never could have exercised, and also to contain the potential boomerang effect. Suicide comes from a very broad landscape of psychological pain, poorly delivered coping responses at the time, history of problems (or losses, defeats) that eclipse one’s sense of hope for better, psychiatric conditions, and even failure to eat or sleep often for days before the suicide, and more. No one thing that a loved one could do might override all these conditions working against the suicidal individual. Rather, the at-risk person needs many linked arms with many helpers to combat the “everythings” that are conspiring against him or her.

At the end of the day, I must commend the survivors whom I have met. It is so apparent to me that they did many things to prolong the lives of their loved ones. They could not have been expected to be all things…psychiatrist, case manager, therapist, pharmacist, personal motivator, regulator or monitor. Rather, they were wives, husbands, parents, siblings, friends to their loved ones. Their acts of heroism were most often manifested in their everyday presence, support, concern, advocacy, and love.

Meet The Author

brianrodgers — Tue, 11 Mar 2008 21:29:34 +0000

In Comfort, Ann Hood writes her memoir and takes you through her own grief journey, which began on April 18, 2002, when her five year old daughter, Grace, died suddenly from a virulent form of strep. Book to be released May 2008.

Join Ann at The Amelia Center on May 27th @ 5:30p.m.
RSVP to Stephanie.Elson@chsys.org

March-April 2008 Tears to Hope

brianrodgers — Tue, 04 Mar 2008 00:18:31 +0000

March-April Edition of Tears to Hope

Click the Above Link for a PDF version of our supportive newsletter.

Invocation from Tears to Hope Breakfast

brianrodgers — Thu, 14 Feb 2008 20:31:52 +0000

A BEAUTY BLESSING
John O’Donohue

As stillness in stone to silence is wed
May your heart be somewhere a God might dwell.

As a river flows in ideal sequence
May your soul discover time is presence.

As the moon absolves the dark of distance
May thought-light console your mind with brightness.

As the breath of light awakens colour
May the dawn anoint your eyes with wonder.

As spring rain softens the earth with surprise
May your winter places be kissed by light.

As the ocean dreams to the joy of dance
May the grace of change bring you elegance.

As clay anchors a tree in light and wind
May your outer life grow from peace within.

As twilight fills night with bright horizons
May Beauty await you at home beyond.

New Amelia Center Video

brianrodgers — Thu, 14 Feb 2008 16:34:06 +0000

Join Us For the Tears to Hope Breakfast

brianrodgers — Wed, 16 Jan 2008 21:19:36 +0000

Tears To Hope Breakfast Invitation 2008

Join us for an hour of inspiration and hope at the 4th annual
Tears to Hope Breakfast

Thursday, February 14, 2008
Children’s Hospital
Bradley Lecture Center

Breakfast begins at 8:00a.m.
Program begins at 8:30 a.m.

The breakfast is complimentary, however you will need tickets.
For tickets, please RSVP to Patricia Murphree
(205) 251-3430
Patricia.Murphree@chsys.org

January-February 2008 Tears To Hope

brianrodgers — Wed, 16 Jan 2008 21:14:29 +0000

Jan Feb Tears To Hope Newsletter

Great Article on Empathy

brianrodgers — Mon, 07 Jan 2008 21:56:23 +0000

Douglas LaBier, of The Washington Post has written a great article on “empathy” and the apparent lack of it in our society. It is definitely worth a read.

Empathy: Could it be What You’re Missing

Bringing in The Light

brianrodgers — Thu, 03 Jan 2008 21:37:03 +0000

by Stephanie Elson

I recently read a message in fortune cookies, which I liked a lot. This message read “Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that.”

Winter is always the dark season of the year. The days grow shorter and night begins in the afternoon. It is a time associated with staying close to home. Seasonally, this dark season is tempered by building a cozy fire, lighting candles and decorating homes with miniature holiday lights. Constantly, people are looking for the light to drive out the dreary darkness.

Grief is a time of emotional darkness. Daily, I encounter people who are struggling with darkness in their own lives due to death of a loved one. Many bereaved fear being consumed by the force of their grief, and worry there will never be light in their lives again. One of the many challenges what come with grief is to seek out and find those things that reconnect you with life and cast out the darkness that comes with loss.

I hope that in this holiday season, you will be able to connect with joyful memories of the life of your loved one and hopefully ease some of the darkness of your own grief journey.