Dear fellow bereaved parent:

 

I write this open letter with the intent of sharing some feelings that you and I may have in common, and in doing so hope to help you to survive yet another day. Like yourself, I am a bereaved parent, and as such I have some understanding of the wide range of emotions you are feeling. In this letter I will share many of my thoughts regarding my grief over the loss of my daughter, I do so not for the purpose of sharing my pain during your time of crisis, but rather for the purpose of sharing a segment of the spectrum of thoughts that I as a bereaved parent have experienced. I hope that in doing so you will at least be supported in the knowledge that you are not alone in your deepest thoughts.

 

I want you to know that even as a complete stranger, I feel very sorry about your loss. However, I feel like all those who care for you, helpless! What can anyone really say that will make things better?  That's right, nothing!

 

It may be helpful to know that when our child, Laurel, died, I could not believe that the world still continued, that people still went to work and carried on with their lives – couldn’t everyone see that my world had been totally devastated? Couldn’t they see that I walked around with this mammoth gapping hole in my chest where my heart used to be? The simple answer no. The world continued just as it had prior to Laurel’s death, yet my world had forever changed in ways that no one could really understand. In fact, no one, myself included, really have an understanding of the depths of pain, guilt, anger,  etc….  you are now having to live through.

 

The isolation you may be feeling right now is sometimes even more difficult to understand if you are married or in a committed relationship. You should expect that your life-partner will mourn your child’s death in a different way than you do, relying upon different resources. All I have to offer is the belief that there is no one best way to travel this painful road, leading “into the valley of death.” However, during this difficult time try to understand and support one another as you travel through this valley, upon different roads, with the goal of arriving at the same destination, survival.

 

At this time when you are just trying to survive another minute, hour, day … you may feel incapable of giving of supporting the emotional needs of others. Not only must you support your-life-partner, but also support the very unique feelings of any surviving children. Like yourself, your surviving children, if any, are experiencing a tremendous loss, not only the loss of their sibling, but also their changing role within your family.  

 

Moving on to my journey - One of the hardest things for me after Laurel's death was the feeling of complete isolation, that nobody understood my feelings, and that people were uncomfortable talking about Laurel, especially given that she died during her first year of life. On the contrary, I wanted to talk about Laurel, she was a real person that lived on this earth and touched many lives. I could not and would not just forget this painful episode of my life; to do so would be denying Laurel's existence. However, I got used to watching people catch me out of the corner of their eye and changing their path because they did not know what to say. They, family included, didn't mean to be hurtful, but at times their behavior and comments hurt. Their comments were often insensitive, and sometimes just stupid.

 

I will share with you some of the stupid things some people said to me in the days following Laurel’s death -- as you are sure to hear some of them from misguided, but well intentioned people.  I am embarrassed to say that for a period of a few weeks, I went to bed each night and thought of the person who stated the most insensitive comment and awarded that person my “Jerk of the Day” award. For example:

 

“At least you have another child” -- a child is not a like a piece of furniture or a car that can be so easily replaced.

 

“I lost a dog once that was a real part of our family and so I know just how you feel” – it is insulting to equate a child with a loved family pet.

 

“I lost my father (or mother) and know just how you feel” - losing a child is not within the natural order of things, we expect to out-live our parents, and that our children will out-live us.

 

“God will never give you more to handle that you are able to cope with.” – If this were true, then I wish I was a much weaker person, unable to handle the loss of my child, let me be the one to die! and as such give my daughter the long and healthy life I want her to be able to live.

 

“What did you do to deserve this?  -- I never understood how anyone could say such a harmful thing to another person.

 

I suspect that you must be hearing from many people that you are not responsible for you child’s death – but that does not change the fact that you may feel some degree of guilt or responsibility. One of our jobs as parents is to help keep our children safe. You should expect to have some regrets, but regrets are not the same thing as taking responsibility.

 

Not a day goes by that I don't think of the child I had, and is no longer here. Not a day goes by that I do not regret that Laurel will never know all of the little things in life that we all take for granted. I mourn for the memories that I will never have, her first steps, first day of school, going to the prom, and even her wedding day. While I will never have these memories to cherish, I take some degree of comfort in knowing that she felt my love during the whole of her life.

 

It must be a truism that we all feel a little misunderstood in our grief. Ever since May 28, 1998, when my little girl died, I have faced a variety of attitudes regarding her death and my mourning process. I loved Laurel from the moment my partner told me she was pregnant, and when Laurel died; my love did not simply stop. Quite the opposite in fact, I think my love for my child became more complex because of her death. Even so, I want to give her life significance. I want Laurel to exist not only in my heart, but in everyone else's as well. However simple Laurel's short life may seem to some, the process of mourning her death has never been simple. It is the most intense pain I have ever suffered, just as I am sure yours pain is more than you may feel able survive.  The truth of the matter is, there will always be those who think I am a little "crazy" where Laurel is concerned, and there will always be those who cannot understand my grieving process. I have learned to live with this fact, while continuing to try to find some good in the loss of my child.

 

Let me share with you a few of the positive things I have learned since Laurel's death. I am happy for the time I had with Laurel. Even in her short life, she gave me so much, taught me so much, and I am a better person today for having experienced her love. While a day never goes by that I don't feel the pain of Laurel's death, I am now able to smile and laugh once again. My loss has helped me to be a better person. For example, given that Laurel is no longer able to contribute to making this a better world, I feel that I must live my life a little better, fill some of the void that she was meant to fill, and do so in her name. I am trying to live my life as a better person, friend, son, father, and spouse. Lastly, I have learned that death does not disconnect the parent / child relationship – yet it is forever changed.

 

Please give yourself time to process your child’s death - I found it helpful to attend a self-help group for bereaved parents called The Compassionate Friends (a/k/a TCF). TCF has a wonderful web site full of excellent information that will help, not to ease your pain (nothing can do that), but rather, to find support and understanding from the experiences of people that have found a way out of the valley of death and journeying beyond on a road leading to ….

 

The TCF web site may be found at http://www.compassionatefriends.org/ , they chapters all over the world, and hopefully a chapter in your area. 

 

I really mean it when I say, please feel free to call me if you need an understanding ear. I am deeply sorry for your loss, and want to help. Please feel free to call anytime of the day or night. Sometimes the nights are the worst as you toss and turn in bed, thinking the thoughts that no parent should ever have to think or feel.

 

I apologize in advance if any of my comments are out of place and have earned me your “Jerk of the Day” award. Grief is a solitary journey. No one but you knows how great the pain is. No one but you can know the gaping hole left in your life due to your child’s death. And no one but you can mourn the silence that was once filled with songs of joy, hopes, and dreams for the future.

 

A bereaved parent by the name of Helen Steiner Rice once said, "It is the nature of love and death to touch every person in a totally unique way. Comfort comes from knowing that people have made the same journey. And solace comes from understanding how others have learned to sing again."

 

Again, I am sorry for your loss. You are in my thoughts during this most difficult of times.

 

Lance