Grief | Grieving | Death of a Child

We had first met at a Christian Teen Camp at Nanoose Bay, here on Vancouver Island, in mid July 1972. I was there, with 5 girlfriends as dishwashers, as none of our parents could afford the cost. He was standing quietly in front of the Lodge, with his bike, looking so very shy! I found myself wandering over, just to get a closer look, as he was so very handsome. I asked if he was staying at all, to which he replied ‘no’. He had just ridden down from Powell River to see this place he’d heard so much about. And as he was working at the Mill there, for his Dad, he’d have to be heading back pretty quick.
At the time, I was 16 and he was 17. We never saw each other again, until early 2000. Read the rest of this entry »

I had two pregnancies before so I knew how things should be. From the beginning of my third however, I felt something wasn’t right. I constantly feared that something would go wrong. I even asked my mom if she had ever lost a baby, even though I had never even thought to ask before. I was 28 weeks pregnant and we were at the grocery store when I realized that he had not moved that day. After some thought, I knew that he had not moved the day before. I knew something was wrong. I called the doctor’s office, and they asked if anything happened that could have changed things. I told them I fell twice the week before but I didn’t hit my stomach. They told me to go to the ER and get checked out. If all was well, I would be out in an hour or two. My mom picked up our other two boys, aged 2 and 4. Read the rest of this entry »

When we got the call at 2 AM last Saturday, I hopped out of bed with the thought that anyone faced with a ring in the middle of the night would have: “Who in the world would be calling us at this hour?”

I looked at caller ID and, not recognizing the number—and seeing that it was not Nick, our son away at college some thirteen hours from home—I yawned and crawled back into bed, pulling the down covers way up over my head. Read the rest of this entry »

My son, Cayden passed away on Feb. 3rd in his seventh month. My husband and I are dealing with it o.k, however we have not been able to talk to anyone about it or anything. We have alot of people to talk too but none that have experianced what we have. We live in Hamilton, Ont. There is help for people that have lost young children, or babies to s.i.d.s, but our son was not a s.i.d.s. case. He died from choking on his own spit in his sleep. What I need help with is finding a web site that deals with this sort of stuff. I have searched but the sites are of no help. I would like to find a site that shares other infant death survior’s stories and has a chat room or somewhere that you can get in touch with them to talk and share your stories. Thank you for your help.

Dear Heidi and Dr. Gloria,

I wanted to send you these pictures. Krystal’s Bench is located in St. augustine, FL at the Mission of Nombre De Dios and La Leche Shrine. (About 7 miles from our house.) I am not Catholic, but chose this place because of its beauty and sacred atmosphere.

Jo Ann Webb, Krystal’s Mom

Is Time my friend
Or my enemy
Yes, Time has washed away the sharp edges
The intensity of the pain
And provided some relief
But will Time rob me of the images
 I need to hold on to

Will it take the sound of his voice
Will it take the feel of his tight hug
Will the bright smile fade away
Along with the quick laughter
That always softened my heart

I have a place where he visits
Inside my heart and soul
Whenever I go there
He is waiting
And we talk awhile

When I move around this altered world
I feel his hands on my shoulders
As if to say
You can do it Mom
I know you can

So please Time
Go easy on me
Allow me to savor these images
It’s all that left to me now

Allow his strength and gentleness
To stay with me
And my heart to remain open
While he waits  for me

Hello Again Dr. Gloria and Dr. Heidi, I wrote you both with a question concerning my indifference toward the drunk driver who killed my daughter, Krystal Duss. And my difficulty in dealing with MADD although I am grateful for all the help they gave my family during the trial. I can not deal with DUI accidents.

I would like both of your insights and Cathy’s. Just so you will know, I have been in grief counseling since about 4 weeks after Krystal was killed. I still go to counseling because it helps me. My counselor has a Phd and has been a safe place for me to go and talk about Krystal’s death, grief and trying to create a “new normal.”

She is not overly concerned about the indifference I feel to the woman who killed Krystal. She said one has to care about someone to feel either anger or love. She said indifference means that you do not even acknowledge the person as having worth. Thank you for Healing the Grieving Heart. You both and your show are a life line for me. With love and gratitude, Jo Ann  (PS I corresponded with Heidi over a previous show and you both kindly put Krystal’s slide show on the Blog. Thank you again!)

I feel like I am going into the pit again. As you know, the grief is with me everyday, but I was beginning to have moments of joy and even lightness of heart. But now the Pain is overtaking me again. I try to lean into the pain, relax, breath, go for walks on the beach every day, pray, sit in silence, read, but finally the pain overcomes me and I have to retreat to the guest room, close the door and let the pain engulf me.
I actually feel such physical pain that my chest feels like it has been ripped open and my heart is lying in my chest, bleeding, and in indescribable pain. Tear flow and flow and flow. Hu ge tears that feel thick and oily, not salty like “regular” tears. I pray for the strength to be with the pain and lean into it. I cry so much that I actually wear myself out, and usually fall asleep. I then get up, it usually has been about 2-3 hours since I went into the guest room, and go downstairs to spend time with Don. It has been 3 years since Krystal died, and I still feel so broken. Monday, March 5, is Krystal’s birthday, and I will be at Compassionate Friends on her birthday. I have thought of bringing a birthday Read the rest of this entry »

They say you’re in Heaven
To comfort, I guess.
Don’t they know that
Your presence we miss?

In God we take solace
Each and every day,
But our loss of you hurts us anyway.

We only got to enjoy you for a little while.
Humor and laughter were definitely your style.
Your animals, Buddy, Postulio and Sushi are still here.
What they are thinking isn’t quite clear.
Our memories of you are nevcr ending.
But certainly don’t replace time together we were spending.

Remnants of you litter our house.
Not a thing has been changed
In hopes of your return.
But, somehow we know the reality of it all
And the hope in our hearts once again starts to fall.

We look to the heavens and
Search through the clouds
For images of you.
But, alas, we have found not even a few.

The men in the house keep a stiff upper lip.
Their tears are held back,
Though it pains like a whip.
Your mother grieves differently for the boy that she lost,
And her tears flow quite freely at any cost.

The pain that we endure hasn’t lost its intensity
For in our hearts you will always be.
Our lives without you will never be the same
As a year now has passed
And time has not tamed.

You will always be
OUR SWEETIE BOY
Forever loved and never forgotten.
Tucker, we miss you tremendously.

Dad, Mom, Ty, Kane, Mark, Grandma Groeger, Aunts, Uncles, Cousins and Friends

“Dad, I tried to wake Nana, I think she’s dead.”
“Grandpa died yesterday.”
“Oh my God, Daddy’s dead.”
“Uncle Jack died today.”
“Grandma died last night.”
“I’m standing with the body of your deceased father-in-law.”
“Hon, I think we should get a divorce.”
“I’m sorry, but we weren’t able to resuscitate your mother.”
“Mike called. He thinks Mary is dead.”
“I’m sorry to leave this on your voice mail, but Uncle Andy died last night.”

This litany of phone calls and conversations on death or parting has all occurred in the past 30 years of my life, most in the last 20. Whether I was the one delivering or receiving these messages, the speaking of each one was the start of the long, seemingly endless process of Read the rest of this entry »