Writing From the Heart

You hear about so many families nowadays that cant seem to manage to find time to have a meal with all the members there. Our modern society encourages evenings to be full and busy with PTO meetings, teacher conferences, going to the health club, Scout meetings, church groups, and on and on. Remember the old sitcoms where mom was home all day and dad went to the office? How many scenes were set at the dinner table where the family conversed, laughed, argued and shared the day? My personal favorite was The Waltons. I loved seeing that big old table full of children passing food, filling plates, arguing good-naturedly and everyone talking at once. I guess that became a symbol to me of family togetherness.

Long ago I attended a sale where a harvest table was up for auction. It was wonderful it could be extended farther than any other table I had ever seen. I fell in love with it as thoughts of future meals with my future family went through my mind. Years would pass and I could see my children returning with their children and spouses as we added enough leaves to accommodate the entire group. When I was younger we had an adult table and a childrens table. I vowed that would never happen in my home!

I never saw another table like that one but I had this fixation with tables in general. I loved going to browse but few of them passed my criteria: holding my whole family. Silly when we we only had one child at that point but I had my vision to hold onto. Years passed and we lost one baby and my vision dimmed for a time, especially when the doctor told me my chances of having another child were far less. But I started to learn what made my body tick and eventually we welcomed another son to our family. Another few years passed and still I looked in the newspapers for tables, garage sales and stores. It was mostly window shopping as there never seemed to be enough money for things like new furniture but I had no doubt that one day we would have my table! In the meantime we had a hand-me-down set from an uncle that just fit our cozy family of four.

Suddenly fate stepped brought two more boys into our lives and all of a sudden we were a family of six. I could see my dream now coming true and I would smile thinking of that full table far in the future. I had become a great cook, well known in my family for putting on huge holiday meals with everything made from scratch. I enjoyed the preparations but my greatest joy was sitting at the table with my whole family. We tried to avoid scolding, arguing or anything of that nature during meal times. We mostly laughed, joked, and, of course, ate. Four boys could eat an enormous amount of food but I didnt mind. I loved seeing them shovel the food in as if they were starving!

The table for four obviously had to go and I longingly thought of the harvest table. The reality of doubling our offspring meant even more severe budgeting, though, so I bargain hunted until I found a table for six within our price range. It was an extremely cheap piece of furniture and I hated it. For holidays we would put a card table at the end but we were always packed in like sardines. Still the food and laughter were the same no matter what was under the plates and so I told myself to not be so greedy.

It is very clear that I am not a morning person. I not only do not like rising early but I am not a breakfast person, either! My husband, however, is one of those people who arises wide-awake and cheerful. He started a Sunday morning tradition cooking a huge brunch with one or more of the boys helping him. They learned to make sausage, bacon, eggs and pancakes while I blissfully snoozed. It was a great dad and son bonding time and they all enjoyed it.

More time passed and so many, many meals together. Unexpectedly there was another baby and I knew that this time we would have to get a bigger table! In the meantime, the high chair was squeezed into a corner and the meals were made even more interesting with a baby brother there to laugh at while he attempted to learn to eat by himself. And of course, there was always the inevitable: whats for dinner, mom? After repeating myself four times each day I got a bit tired of it and one day I said, Food. What kind of food? Cooked food. What kind of cooked food? Hot, cooked food. Well, you get the idea. And this could go on for as long as my patience could hold out.

Coming from an unstable background, I know our adopted sons particularly enjoyed the family meals. Shawn was my cheerleader I could always count on him to say, Good meal, Mom! and then he would have to listen to teasing about being a suck-up but he bore it well. He and I both knew he meant what he said and it never failed to make me smile. It also was a wonderful reward for the hours of shopping and cooking.

The unthinkable occurred and Shawn was suddenly taken from us. Over and over I would set the table for everyone forgetting there was one less person now. It tore at my heart to take that extra place setting and sadly put it back each time I forgot. Then the day came where the youngest needed to start sitting at the table. Seeing that once again there was just enough room for all of us was heartbreaking. Now looking at bigger tables was just one more painful reminder that we really didnt need one any larger than what we had. The Sunday brunches were half-heartedly attempted but it was just too hard now. They became a nice memory.

The older boys became adults and left home college, jobs, the military. Empty places in my heart empty places at my table. They continued to grow, too, so, when they were all there, we generally had a few squabbles about who was taking up too much room.

You get what you pay for with cheap furniture and we decided we had to replace our rickety set. It no longer really was that important to me that the table was large. Losing Shawn had taken away not just our son, but my ability to look into the future with assurance that it would all be as I imagined. And things like furniture just ceased to be important anyway. Never having been well off financially we opted for a used set and I scoured the shoppers each week watching for a good bargain. An older couple had sold their home and bought a trailer and so everything in their house was being sold. When we went to look at the table they had for sale the older man talked about how they mostly used it for holidays when their grown children would come home with their children. A lump grew in my throat as I gazed at the table and imagined my sons sitting there, laughing, passing food, enjoying each other.

I was excited to be able to bring home a matching buffet and server. I couldnt wait to finally take my good dishes out of the boxes where they had been stored. The old table was unceremoniously taken out and stored in the garage and the new furniture took its place. Finally! A table which didnt rock if you leaned on it, squeak if you moved it the least little bit, chairs that were substantial enough to take big boys falling into them but the biggest change was the space. This was a BIG table and we had only put in one leaf. The milk bottle no longer had to sit on the floor and there was plenty of room even when we had a few stray neighborhood children sharing our meals.

I looked at it the other day and found myself with an uncontrollable flood of tears running down my cheeks. No matter what table sits in that room and no matter how many sit at it there will always be a place that will remain empty. There will always be one less place setting than there should be. And one day, God willing, my grown children come home with their families there will be even more places that should be there. Grief overwhelmed me as I sobbed and wailed with that gut-wrenching pain only a parent who has lost a child can understand. I let it all out, I acknowledged my feelings, and I am okay now.

Still there will always be one empty place. Maybe the table will be full but my heart will know.

"When one door of happiness closes, another opens; but often we look so long at the closed door that we do not see the one which has opened for us."

- Helen Keller (1880 - 1968)

Open Windows/Open Doors

Most all of us have seen the saying about God never closing a door without opening a window. I am not sure where this saying came from but I did run across the one above in my search. I thought this one far better served what I planned to write about here because, as grieving parents, we very often DO look far too long at the closed door. We cant be blamed for this for it is an impossibly overwhelming task to continue on with our lives when we have had to say goodbye to a child. Especially in the early days soon after the death the future looms dark and huge over our heads seeming to stretch out forever. For those of us who believe in life after death we do see an end yet how far away it can seem. Almost every grieving parent I have talked to has expressed a desire to be with their child now even though they were never suicidal types previously. So how do we continue on if we have another forty or fifty years ahead of us provided we live a full, long life into old age?

Depending on the people who have been in our lives is seldom an answer. They tend to fall into two categories: those who feel ignoring the entire situation is either the easiest way for them to handle it or best for the grieving parent in their uninformed opinion and those who try to make us feel better by explaining the whole thing away. God must have wanted your child for a reason, he/she is in a better place, and even that we are being punished for something. The latter are far more vocal and tend to also make sure we know when it is time to move on and find closure and get over it. As if death is a case of the flu and we are merely biding our time until we are well.

A good first move is to seek out other parents who have lost a child. While The Compassionate Friends is a very well known support group created for just that purpose there are many, many more options so that almost everyone should be able to find a group they feel comfortable within. Churches, hospitals and funeral homes are all places that often offer services in the form of support groups. The atmosphere and beliefs of the other attendants may vary from group to group so it is unfortunately sometimes necessary to visit each one at least once.

Books, pamphlets and articles can offer great insight into how other grieving families have dealt with their pain. Poetry is a frequently used and widely shared outlet for the dark emotions that accompany grief. Ideas are offered for various methods of honoring the dead that can be a very comforting way to keep their memory alive. Suggestions on ways of handling the anniversary dates, birthdays, holidays and family get-togethers are usually included in grief books. While comparing experiences may sound morbid it is somehow a very consoling experience to learn others have trod the path before you. There is relief in knowing you are not the only person to feel this way. Others have done so before and managed to go on with their lives. Reading how they accomplished this encourages us in a manner no counseling can match.

Counseling, however, can also play a major part in getting a deeply depressed person back on their feet. Obviously a parent who has lost a child to death will be depressed. How long it lasts and who and what it affects is the key to knowing when to ask for help. There is no time limit on grief and truthfully it will never be gone from your life. It does ease in its sharpness and becomes a familiar if unwanted companion for the rest of our lives. It is always there, sometimes in the way, and sometimes unnoticed. When it takes over your life, though, and the months stretch into years with no change counseling may be necessary to get back to some semblance of normalcy. Suicidal thoughts, drinking too much, over using tranquilizers or sleeping pills, sleeping too much or too little are some of the signs to look for which indicate a problem which requires help. When a persons feelings of grief are so overwhelming that they begin to cause marital problems, neglect of other children, job issues or withdrawal from all family and friends then getting counseling may be in order. There is nothing wrong with asking for help with this. We are ill-equipped to cope with this and our society is not one which is supportive and understanding.

Just a quick note on the use of antidepressant drugs: quite often these will be a tool a therapist/doctor will believe to be helpful in these cases. A pet peeve of mine is the prevalent idea in our society that these are happy pills which gives an unnatural boost to lift a persons spirits. This is NOT the case. In fact, most antidepressants will not even begin to help until after several weeks of use. It is believed they work by aiding the natural chemicals which promote well-being within our brains to function better. The person taking an antidepressant which works well for them will find what happens is that they begin to feel closer to normal. They will respond in a normal manner to everyday life rather than in the negative manner a deeply depressed person will feel. They are not addictive although they do have various side effects. It is often necessary to try several before finding one that works best with your own body chemistry. They are NOT something that should be perceived as a crutch for a weak person or anything to be embarrassed about using. I firmly believe a person who uses antidepressants along with counseling is, in fact, a very strong person with a will to live their life to the fullest. However, as with any prescription medication, it is always an excellent idea to research the drug so as to make a responsible, well informed decision concerning its use.

An unexpected resource for help and comfort of the grief-stricken has been the Internet. Hundreds, probably thousands, of memorial sites have arisen online along with many support sites for grief of every type. Some are major sites open to all while others are privately held. There again a person will probably find it necessary to visit many before finding the right fit for them. Advantages of these groups are that they offer privacy and a variety of ways to obtain help. Information is available along with personal accounts. Bulletin boards and chat rooms offer a more personal method of visiting with other grieving family members. Help is available to learn to create a memorial website of your own which has proved to be a very therapeutic way to deal with your grief while carrying on the memory of your child.

Coming back to the door quote, how we deal with the remainder of our lives here on earth is in large part up to us. Attitude and state of mind can make an enormous difference in how the remainder of our lives play out. While no one would EVER choose this to happen we have no control over that. What has happened has happened. If we believe that there is are other doors or windows which open after one closes then we have something positive to look for in our lives. Some of the things which can occur after the death of a family member would be gaining a new closeness with family and friends, changing our lives for the better by perhaps becoming a better parent, spouse or friend, making a difference in the world by taking on issues which pertain to the death, and finding a new purpose in our existence. Sometimes we need to really search to find those doors or windows. That can be difficult as we may feel we are not being loyal to the memory of that child. Deep down it may seem as if we are approving the loss by seeing the positive aspects of the situation. Acknowledging to yourself that no matter HOW great those positive aspects are you would give them all up in a second to have your child back will help get past that, though. And then take it one step further and realize that this is not going to happen. Look upon these as a gift that is there to help you during an unbearably difficult time.

One of the things I see as a window opening in my life is meeting other grieving parents. Not only are they able to understand me so I have an outlet to vent my pain and frustrations but they are almost always more compassionate and loving than other people in my life. Somehow going through this makes us understand that life can be cut short and we need to reach out to each other. When we type in love you at the end of our conversations over the computer I realize I truly DO love these people. They are not selfish in their grief; they have enough room for me in their lives, too. Some of them will come into my life briefly and others I know are there for the duration but they are all windows. They give me the courage to get up each day and go on with my life. They hold their hands out to me on the darkest of days and help lift me to my feet again. Without them, the road ahead would be much more rocky and for that I am grateful.

One thing I found when my son first died was that I needed to have hope. I needed to know that what I felt right then would go away. If someone had told me it never will right then I think I would have pulled the covers over my head and given up. It really isnt possible to explain the open doors because not only do you not believe it but you just really dont care right then. I cant explain this any more than we can explain to someone who has never lost a child what it feels like. But I do offer hope. Yes, the pain remains but you learn to cope with it and it does lessen in intensity. You learn what are triggers to painful memories and what days are going to be the most difficult and how to cope with those memories and days. And you learn to appreciate the open doors and windows. You learn life does continue, not as it did but as a new life. There is hope.

Laurie J. Crist