Wind River Chapter of The Compassionate Friends
Volume 2, Number 6
APRIL 99
The Compassionate Friends is a national nonprofit, self-help support organization which offers
understanding to families who are grieving the death of a child of any age, from any cause. The mission is to
assist families in the positive resolution of grief following the death of a child and to provide information to help
others be supportive. There is no religious affiliatiion and no membership fees.
When a child dies parents mourn and begin a process of bereavement. Bereaved parents experience
many different feelings--- disbelief, sadness, loneliness, fear, anger, regret, guilt, despair, and personal loss.
These feelings are all a part of the emotional reaction called "grief". Sometimes feelings of grief may be so
intense that parents do not understand what is happening. Some parents tend to keep feelings inside while others
are able to express their grief easily and openly. While there is no "right way" to grieve, other parents who have
experienced the death of a child offer understanding and support through The Compassionate Friends. For
some of you, months and years have passed. The pain is still there but you have found and are still finding ways
to cope. No longer is TCF a lifeline. You still think about us and receive this newsletter, but you don't NEED to
attend the meetings.
Please bring what you have learned back to us. At the next meeting there may be someone new in their
grief. They will walk through those doors barely able to see through their tears. They will need understanding,
compassion, love, and friendship. Most of all, they will need HOPE. Will you be there?
Chapter Meetings are the Third Thursday of every month.
Next meeting: April 15 (7:00 p.m) Riverton Branch Library
Our Children Loved and Remembered
Gabe Stickels, son of Walt Stickels and Laurie Urbigkit, 4/3/77--7/26/97
Josh Realing, son of Dixie Realing, 9/11/79--4/6/92
Jody Stransky, son of Carol Eckley, 10/12/68--4/10/88
John A. Kenyon, Jr., son of Kathy Kenyon, 4/24/69--5/13/98
Berk, son of Almeta Monroe (Ute), 5/11/84-5/5/97
Hector Aoah, son of Norrine Panzetanga, 11/19/81-5/9/98
Ronnie Rademacher, son of Kathy Werth, 5/13/63-11/18/82
Brad Englert, son of Larry & Gloria Englert, brother of Lisa Malek, 5/18/70-10/8/90
Wade Ditton Sr., son of Gerti Ditton, 5/24/59-9/10/96
THANK YOU!!! TO JEANNIE PORTLOCK FOR SENDING OUT OUR INTRO PACKETS AND CARDS
ON SPECIAL DATES.
THANK YOU!!! TO ANN WAGNER AND ANGELA WARREN FOR SENDING
OUT "WE ARE HERE" CARDS TO THE NEWLY BEREAVED. WE APPRECIATE EVERYONE'S HELP!!!
THE BRICK PROJECT
The bricks are ordered!!! We are currently looking at different ideas for the actual "laying" of bricks so if
anyone has any ideas to share, please DO!! We are considering--a wall, a path, planters.....????
Please remember that this is an ongoing project that will last until we no longer have a place to put the
bricks! Memorial Day is coming up so please let your friends and relatives know of our plans.
March meeting:
We had an assignment for our last meeting...to bring with us something to share. SOME of us forgot or
didn't do that...... However, Sharon shared two articles, one about twins and the special issues arising
when a twin dies-"Now I am One" by Dorothy Foltz-Gray (I am reading it in small doses)....and one about
grief and bereavement written by Ellen Goodman. Ellen's closing paragraph says it all: "So whatever
our national passion for emotional efficiency, for quality-time parents and one-minute managers, there
simply are no one-minute mourners. Hearts heal faster from surgery than from loss. And when the
center of someone's lilfe has been blown out like the core of a building, is it any wonder if it takes so long
even to find a door to close?"
Sharon also brought some writing she had done on the topic of why it appears that we grieve longer and
harder NOW as compared to our ancestors AND she brought (THANK GOD FOR SHARON) copies of
the following poem--
"I'll lend you, for a little while, a child of mine," He said.
For you to love while he lives, and mourn when he is dead.
It may be six or seven years, or twenty-two or three,
But will you, ‘til I call him back, take care of him for me?
He'll bring his charms to gladden you, and shall his stay be brief,
You'll have his lovely memories as solace for your grief.
I cannot promise he will stay, as all from earth return,
But there are lessons taught down there I want this child to learn.
I've looked the whole world over in my search for teachers true,
And from the throngs that crowd life's lanes, I have selected you.
Now will you give him all your love - not think the labor vain.
Nor hate me when I come to call to take him back again.
I fancied that I heard them say, "Dear Lord, thy will be done."
For all the joy this child shall bring, the risk of grief we'll run.
We'll shower him with tenderness and love him when we may,
And for the happiness we've known, forever grateful stay.
And should the angels call for him much sooner than we planned,
We'll brave the bitter grief that comes, and try to understand.
---Unknown Author
Alice brought a poem from Brian's memorial pamphlet:
Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow;
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain;
I am the gentle autumn's rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft star that shines at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there; I did not die.
-- Unknown Author
I (Sandy) shared the following:
Once upon a time, twin boys were conceived. Weeks passed and the twins developed. As their
awareness grew, they laughed for joy: "Isn't it great that we were conceived? Isn't it great to be alive? "
Together the twins explored their worlds. When they found their mother's cord that gave them life, they
sang for joy!
"How great our mother's love is, that she shares her own life with us!"
As weeks stretched into months, the twins noticed how much each was changing.
"What does it mean?" one asked.
"It means our stay in this world is drawing to an end." said the other.
"But I don't want to go," said one. "I want to stay here always."
"We have no choice," said the other. "But maybe there is life after birth."
"But how can there be?" responded one. "We will shed our life cord and how can life be possible
without it? Besides, we have seen evidence that others were here before us, and none of them has
returned to tell us there is life after birth. No, this is the end. Maybe there is no mother after all."
"But there has to be," protested the other. "How else did we get here?"
"How do we remain alive?" "Have you ever seen our mother?" said one. "Maybe she only lives in
our minds. Maybe we made her up because the idea made us feel good."
So the last days in the womb were filled with deep questioning and fear. Finally, the moment of
birth arrived. When the twins had passed from their world, they opened their eyes and cried for joy - for
what they saw exceeded their fondest dreams........That is birth ... and that is death.
Religion and TCF
Bereaved parents have a wide variety of attitudes toward religion. In addition to those who are
members of one of the world's Eastern or Western institutional churches, there are humanists, agnostics,
and atheists. All need the help that TCF can give. Some will credit a major share of their recovery to a
deep, personal faith, but others have temporarily or permanently rejected the theological views they held
before the death of their children.
Faced with this diversity of opinion and belief, sometimes even between husband and wife, and
frequently accompanied by intense emotions, TCF has chosen to "espouse no specific religious or
philosophical ideology" as an organization. Instead, it encourages its members to speak freely and
openly about what helped or hindered them in coping with grief but to do so "with respect and
consideration for those who may disagree" with them.—TCF National Newsletter
Beyond Grief
As once I carried you curled,
And soundlessly sleeping,
A tiny embryo suspended
In the fluid nature of time,
I carry you again suspended
In my heart and mind,
Like a dream past and yet
Near to unfolding.
As the miracle of your birth
Gave cherished years of life,
After labor's pain,
So the miracle of love assures
That beyond grief
Is joyful remembrance.
By Peggy Walls-TCF, Alexander City/Montgomery AL
(Dedicated to Eddie Walls, 2/18/74-5/30/90)
The New Language of Grief by Darcie D. Sims, Ph.D., CGC, CHT
Bereaved Parent and TCF Member Since 1976
There are many different schemes and ways to look at the grief process. Some talk stages while
others outline steps to be taken or tasks to be completed. I like to think of grief as a journey. However
grief looks to you, it is important to understand that grief is not a sign of weakness nor a lack of faith.
Grief is the price we pay for love.
Much has been written about grief and has added to our knowledge. Some has added to our
confusion! Many still confuse the work of Dr. Elizabeth Kübler-Ross with that of other professionals such
as Colin Murray Parkes, Erich Lindemann, and William Worden. Kübler-Ross wrote of patients coping
with dying while Parkes, Lindemann, Worden and others wrote of the grieving process which occurs
following the death of a loved one. The difference between the two bodies of knowledge is significant,
although many do not realize the "Stages of Adaptation" that Kübler-Ross identified do not necessarily
apply to the experiences of the bereaved.
The work of Worden, Lindemann, Parkes and others clearly distinguished between adaptation to
impending change and the responses experienced following a death. Yet today we still find the
bereaved trying to fit their grief into a scheme that makes little sense to them. It is time we find a new
language - a language that clearly defines the grief experience as we know it and one that gives us hope
instead of tasks to complete or stages upon which to play.
When we first become aware of our loss, we may become numb. The literature refers to this as
shock. Shock is a physiological phenomenon which protects us from further pain. When our circuits
become overloaded, we cannot accept further information. Our numbness protects us from the reality of
death. Our responses become mechanical. Decisions are made, actions are taken and events pass, all
without our full participation. Shock is what helps us get through the necessary details of death. Our
numbness can last anywhere from a few moments to several months.
When we are faced with difficult steps on our journey, we sometimes wish to postpone our
progress. We want to sidestep the pain. Perhaps we are not yet ready to deal with reality or perhaps we
feel afraid, unsupported, unskilled or unprepared to face the unfolding of a new life. "I won't deal with it!"
"I can't cope with it!" "I don't want to face it." Words that each of us has echoed again and again.
Instead of facing our grief, we postpone reality for a little while. It is easier to pretend that our
child is away at camp instead of facing the bitter reality of death. And yet I know what it is that I am
pretending. How could I ever forget?
Perhaps we could replace the word denial with the word postponement. It accurately describes
what we do with a reality we are not quite ready to experience. We simply postpone that part of our
journey until we feel ready to tackle the new reality.
Denial is not a lack of coping, but rather an accurate and creative way of postponing, until we
feel more secure, more skilled, more supported. It takes a lot of energy to postpone reality for very long
and so, eventually, most of us run out of energy to keep things in fantasy land. Slowly we move toward
painful reality and begin the healing process of coping. When we feel ready, we will move from
postponement to acknowledgment and then to action, in our own time.
Our journey toward awareness and acknowledgment hurts. Every part of us hurts. There's a
tightness in the throat, a searing pain in the chest, a heaviness in the heart. It hurts to move. It hurts to
breathe. It hurts just to be! Sometimes the pain is so intense we may develop physical symptoms. Sleep
irregularities, changes in appetite and gastrointestinal disturbances are common. Heartache,
restlessness, muscle tension and sighing may occur.
Anger and guilt are common emotions. You may feel angry with God, your spouse, your children
or with others, either involved or totally separate from the death. You may be angry with yourself. You
may want to withdraw and be left alone. Anger and guilt may be revisited many times.
Depression and feelings of emptiness or hollowness may temporarily overcome you. You may
become preoccupied with images of your child. You may "see" or sense your child's presence. You may
begin to wonder if you are going crazy.
As long as we are changing the language, I'd like to replace acceptance with acknowledgment.
Acceptance, to me, means agree with, and I will never agree with what has happened! But I can work
towards acknowledgment of what has happened. As I begin to feel safer, more supported, more
knowledgeable about the grief process and feel more skilled at grieving, I can allow whatever I have cast
into postponement to resurface and begin then to resolve my grief.
I want to change one more word in the language of grief. Let's get rid of the word recovery and
use healing instead. Recovery is a medical model word, designed to describe broken bones, not hearts.
We recover from a broken arm or the chicken pox. We don't get over the death of someone we love. We
get through it, one moment, one hour, one day, one hurt at a time. Healing is a hopeful word.
Healing doesn't happen all at once, nor does a language get changed quickly. Healing is a
matter of choice. It begins to occur when we learn to reinvest our energies, emotions and love rather
than replace them. We will always love our children and we will continue to have a relationship with them
for the rest of our lives. We do not stop loving someone just because they die!
You know you're making progress when you fully understand that putting your child's things
away does not mean you are forgetting him. You do not have to say good-bye. We no longer save for a
child's college education, but perhaps we contribute to a scholarship in her name or create a living
memorial to the love we shared. Our child died, but the love we share between us can never be
destroyed.
The words we speak dictate our journey. Yet it seems more hopeful to speak of postponement
instead of denial, acknowledgment instead of acceptance and healing instead of recovery.
We are diminished by grief, replenished by love, held by hope. I want a language that reflects
that hope, a language that reminds me of joy remembered, of love given and received, of life lived, not
lost. May love be what you remember the most.
(Darcie Sims, a bereaved parent, is a nationally known grief management specialist, speaker, and author. Darcie is a former member
of the national TCF Board, a contributing editor for Bereavement magazine, and serves on the national board of the Association for
death Education and Counseling.)
NOTE: Everyone who has requested that their child be on our list of Our Children, Loved and Remembered, and anyone who has
signed our book--- I have listed our children (first name only) on our TCF website with their dates. If you do NOT WANT your child
listed, please let me know so that I can remove them. Thanks!
Opinions expressed in articles within this newsletter are those of the writers and not necessarily of TCF. The Editor reserves the right
to edit any articles published. Whilst every endeavour is made to publish all articles as soon as they are received, this is not always
possible and some may be held over for inclusion in future newsletters.
How Can I Help with the Newsletter Expenses?
Love Gifts - A love gift is a gift of money to The Compassionate Friends local chapter. It is usually in honor of a child who has died,
but it can also be from individuals who want to honor a relative or friend who has died, a gift of thanksgiving that their own children
are alive and well, or simply a gift from someone who wants to help in the work of our chapter. Love gifts are acknowledged each
month in the newsletter.