Replies to This Discussion

Permalink Reply by Gail Richardson on May 8, 2010 at 4:18am

Barb - oh my love, I am so sorry for your losses. To lose two children is unthinkable and my heart goes out to you.
My daughter was diagnosed with a terminal illness (Fanconi Anaemia) when she was five. Despite the most awful prognosis, she defied her doctors and fought on until she was two days off her 15th birthday. Knowing that she was going to die didn't make it any 'easier' - how can losing a child ever be easier?
To lose Thomas, so unexpectedly, will have ripped your life in pieces - I am so so sorry and I can so understand your emptiness. I can understand the unexplicable guilt and horror at having to watch someone you love die because there is nothing more that doctors can do. I still have doubts over my own daughters' death, the what if's.... and the maybe's.... And even though I KNOW it was the right thing to allow her to slip away - I still wonder.
I can't offer any advice to you that you don't already know and have already been through with Adam but I can say that this is a great place to air your anger, hurt, doubts and fears so please feel free to scream all you need, we'll be here for you and if nothing else, we'll listen and understand your pain.
I found that reaching out to other bereaved mums and dads helped me to regain a little sanity and am so thankful for the internet as it opens up so many lifelines. You are with people who understand your pain and anger and who will not judge. Take care Barb and I'm sending you a bunch of hugs xx

Permalink Reply by BARB VANDALE on May 9, 2010 at 1:26pm

Thank you Gail,
I am sorry for your loss of your daughter. I know how hard it is to live with an illness and know that your child has limited time on this earth. For years with Adam, I waited for that other shoe to drop. Never knowing if tomorrow would come for him or not. Very stressful times. But he was blessed with a wicked sense of humor and made me laugh so many times. I miss that.
Thomas' death slapped me so hard. He was the one that would give me grandchildren, the one I pinned my hopes and dreams on. The one I rooted for so loudly because he was the only one I had left. I miss his hugs and his telling me he loved me, just because. I miss the arguments we had over my being too overprotective. I will never hold his children. I am still in that place of unrealness. I cannot believe that this is happening to me again.
I can go on about them forever. As I know you all would if we were together. Sharing photos and stories.
I wish you peace and love
Barb

Permalink Reply by jennifer on May 7, 2010 at 9:16pm

I am asking for everyone helps in signing a petition which will be used to sponsor a law in caden's name..http://www.petitiononline.com/lenenaj/petition.html

Permalink Reply by Gail Richardson on May 8, 2010 at 4:28am

Signed Jennifer xx

Permalink Reply by Kar on July 10, 2010 at 5:01pm

Signed

Permalink Reply by Gail Richardson on May 9, 2010 at 5:32am

Honoring Mothers in Grief on Mother's Day
Written by Clara Hinton | May 04, 2003

Mother's Day originated as a way of bringing honor and recognition to all mothers. Over the years, Mother's Day has evolved into one of the most cherished and most celebrated days of the year. For the mother who has experienced the loss of a child, though, Mother's Day is often a day of many tears and feelings of deep heartache. Friends and family members are left wondering how to help a grieving mother face Mother's Day without her child.

Because Mother's Day has turned into a time of traditions such as mother/daughter banquets, the wearing of flower corsages, and eating a special meal out following a special Mother's Day church service, it is difficult for family members and friends to know how to include a grieving mother in the special traditions of the day. Sadly, because people don't know what to do or say to a mother whose child has died, they often do what is easiest-they say and do nothing.

There is no greater heartbreak known to a mother than for Mother's Day to arrive without recognition and validation of being a mother to the deceased child. To be overlooked on Mother's Day is to add a burden of extra grief to an already broken heart.

Every mother longs to have her child validated. Every mother longs to hear the sweetest name on this earth-the name of her child who has died. Every mother has the need to feel that she is included among those who are honored by wearing the most coveted name among women-"mother. "

Recognition does not need to be elaborate or expensive. Often, just a card with the sincere words, "I'm thinking of you on this Mother's Day" can help lift a mother's broken heart and dry some of her tears of grief and sorrow.

What can you do to help? Deliver a flower in memory of the deceased child. Prepare a small gift basket and fill it with a writing journal, a book of hopeful thoughts, some special perfume, and a candle to be used for burning in memory of the child. Insert a card that says, "To a Heavenly Mother," or use words from your heart that express special meaning. This is a warm, sincere way of saying, "You are a very special mother, and I want to honor you as such."

Send a floral arrangement with a helium balloon. The balloon can be used on Mother's Day as a "letting go" of some of the grief. Often, something as simplistic as a small angel pin placed inside a card that says, "I'm thinking of you today" is enough to give a grieving mother the strength to get through this most difficult day.

Mother's Day is a most difficult day for any mother to face without her child. More than anything she needs listening ears. Allow the grieving mother to talk as much as she wants about her child. Ask her if she wants to talk. Spend some time with her and lend her your listening ears. Mothers love to share experiences and feelings about their children, even when a child is no longer alive. A friend or family member who listens is truly a treasure.

Help lighten the load of grief by helping a mother who has lost a child feel special on Mother's Day. Find your unique way of communicating to a mother in grief that she still deserves honor and special recognition on Mother's Day. She is, after all, a mother to be honored.

(c) Clara Hinton
Author - Silent Grief

Permalink Reply by Krista Collins on June 7, 2010 at 3:15pm

Thank you, I lost my son on February 24, 2010 to Esphongal Cancer, he was 26 years old, it's not a day that goes by that I don't think of him and all the suffering he experienced, my son was awesome, he never gave me any trouble, he was very resepectful and kind hearted, some things I don't understand like why my son, I cry everyday, missing him so much. Thanks to support sites like this, helps me to get through. Many hugs to all.

Permalink Reply by Darren Mitchell on June 24, 2010 at 12:54am

The time has come for me to share the story of my talented, beautiful, brassy, loving, kind, independent yet dependent, focussed daughter BRITTANY. From birth Britt was her own person. She had a sense of what she liked and didn't like and had no barriers from sharing this with the world or me. Being a Dad to such a strong personality was not easy and I always said to my family and friends that with some social grace this personality would serve her well. She was the toddler who would go home with anyone or walk up to someone in the checkout line and start talking as if they were old friends. She would reach into people's purses and take something and ask the person about it. Scary! Lol, I enjoyed it all. She was so full of life and was always exploring. I loved that curiosity and we would walk and hike and learn about the earth together and leave no rock unturned. Her strong personality was a blessing and sometimes a curse. I remember the times she would be hurt by her ventures when others would lash out or reject her. As she grew into a young woman there would be many heated discussions between Britt and Dad. I would say to Britt, you practice and work hard at being a child to the best of your ability and I will work hard at being the best Dad and we will be okay. We talked so much that it became our connection. Britt would often say, Dad I can talk to you about anything and I would say, yes you can. As we grew together I knew she would keep some things hidden because they should be but other things because she was a teenager and didn't want to get in "trouble". I laugh about that now because I have never told my parents how I got away with things but true to her nature Britt would wait for a while and then say, "Dad can we go for a walk?" I would smile and say sure and off we would go. As we walked she would go back over the misdeed from long ago. I loved our talks, not for the purpose of making things right but because they brought us together.
It was so wonderful that Britt let me in. She included me and I included her.
Britt had been living on the coast (Vancouver) for about 2 ½ years. She loved life to the fullest and had said to me that this last year (2009) she had experienced her life really starting to come together. We were so proud of her. When she moved to the coast it was such a struggle. In the last 2 ½ years she had traveled to Thailand for 2 ½ months and had the time of her life. She had met some amazing friends all over the world on that trip. On the Coast she had settled in so well with friends and culture. She loved the culture of Music and Drama and Nightclubs that Vancouver offered her. Her friends loved her dearly and enjoyed her enthusiasm and energy.
She had come so far with her strong personality. Where before she overlooked boundaries, had social miscues, spoke before thinking and seen herself as the focus of life she had blossomed into this amazing, beautiful, kind, loyal, selfless friend. It was my joy to watch her grow and my privilege to be the one she came to for "talks". I can still hear her words as well would say goodbye (on the phone), "bye Daddy, I love you"
We had spent much of March 2010 planning and talking about her brother's music career. She was a huge fan and inspiration to him. She wanted to come for his 21st birthday in May. We were ready to buy her a ticket and fly her out here.

It was Easter weekend and I had spoken to Britt many times throughout the week, on Friday, Saturday and Sunday. My wife and I had a very enjoyable weekend (we remember saying this to each other on Monday - April 5th, 2010). We had the day off as it was a statutory holiday being as it was Easter Monday. We were busy all day and I hadn't heard from Britt or called her let alone thought of her. I got up the next morning and went to work without a care in the world. I was leaving my office and heading out to my vehicle when my youngest daughter called me on my cell. She was crying hysterically and wanted me to come home. She wouldn't tell me why except that it had to do with Britt and the Police were at our home.
My heart sank and I could barely think. I called my wife, Kate, and asked her to come home and told her the same information. I was in tears and shock all the way home and as I turned up the last street to my home and saw the police car my greatest fear hit me, Britt had died!
We all sat down in our living room while the officer stated that they had taken some time to find us but that it was with his regrets that he informs us that our Daughter, Brittany, had died the night before on April 5th, 2010.
In the days to come the coroner informed us that Britt had Meningitis and this developed into Sepsis. She died in her sleep thinking she was tired from a cold she had for the last 3 days.
Our life will never be the same. I miss our talks, I miss her love and soft spoken "Daddy", I miss her bear hugs, I miss her head on my shoulder and I miss that overjoyed smile.
I am working through this horrible time and it’s not easy. I watch my 3 younger children and my wife and I say to myself, take it slow. Britt was 22 years old when she died. There was so much more that she was looking forward to.
Thank you for listening/reading my story. I send my warm thoughts to the rest of the group. This group that no one wants to belong to.

Sincerely,
Darren

Permalink Reply by Ken Ciolek on June 24, 2010 at 8:45am

We lost our 18 yr old daughter Marissa on December 27th 2009 – she never woke up from sleeping the night before. Our kids were on Christmas break and they have very busy schedules so not uncommon for them to sleep late, my son I had woke a half hour before that and were meeting friends for dinner so my wife went in to wake my daughter but she was already gone, she passed in her sleep, her eyes were closed and they told me she probably died in her sleep peacefully. My wife screamed I called 911 and the police were there in seconds, I checked her she wasn’t breathing the police office came in her room looked at her and shook his head, he actually started to cry because she knew who she was, he was the police office that patrolled her school on occasion. We saw her 13 hours before that and was fine, she said good night wasn’t sick and had no health issues, well a mild case of asthma but was controllable. An autopsy turned up no trauma or physical evidence, they are doing toxicology tests but fear nothing will be found. My daughter had so much to look forward to, her Senior prom was a few months away, high school graduation shortly after, and then off to college, we have letters on the table that we can’t open. She did graduate high school and received her diploma a few weeks ago, which was the second hardest thing I had to do.

I grieve any chance I get break down and cry almost anywhere, train, work. I just start thinking about her and lose it. I have a lot of anger I see her friends moving on other people going back to routine but my daughter will never have that and part of me feels like we are doing the same. I have to stay strong for my wife and son. My wife is not doing well at all, which is expected, she is not working right now which makes it tough, no desire to do much during the day. When my daughter died it feels like a piece of my wife did also, she is there and laughs etc but really not her…sounds strange but worried I am not doing enough to support her, we grieve on our own but we do talk about my daughter all the time we laugh cry. Part of me feels like we are going separate ways not grieving together. But at the same time don’t want to say the wrong things or upset her.

Permalink Reply by Peggi Fountain on June 28, 2010 at 7:57pm

Seven weeks after burying my father and still reeling from that loss, I went to work, then ran my daily errands, All day long I had tried to call my daughter, Pamela, who lived with me at the time, and her boyfriend kept answering my phone and saying she was tired and didn't feel like coming to the phone. Stupid me, I believed him. I stopped on my way home and picked up a pizza. When I walked in I put a slice on a plate take in to Pam in the living room. When I walked in, her boyfriend was kneeling on the floor where she lay lifeless on my couch. While I was dialing "911" he told me I was overreacting because she was only sleeping. What a jerk! God only knows how long she was dead before I got home. I will never forgive him. They went out for six years and had two kids together and he just let her lie there. I just don't get it and I never will. Just like I'll never stop missing her or wishing I had just come straight home from work. I still go to her grave every day, It is the most painful part of my day but I still feel compelled to go and pray to a God I don't even believe in anymore. I have to answer my granddaughters questions about "Mommy Angel" that I have no answers to. I have to try to explain to her why daddy works so much, when actually he doesn't work at all, He just wants nothing to do with her, He hasn't seen her in months, doesn't call her or send her a birthday card, probably doesn't know when her birthday is. This life is just too painful. I actually look forward to the day I can rest in peace and join my daughter, Unfortunately I still have too much to do here to allow myself that luxury.

Permalink Reply by Kate on July 13, 2010 at 5:21am

Hi everyone
I'm new to the forum, and fairly new to this life I'm now living. I lost my daughter in January this year, a month before her tenth birthday. She was in a car accident (with two more of my kids) where the driver (a family member, to complicate things even more) fell asleep and drifted across the road, hitting a B Double Tanker truck head on. The driver survived and my two other children escaped with minor injuries (not including the mental injuries and trauma) but my 9 year old couldn't survive. We had to turn her machines off a few hours later. Our whole world has been turned on it's head and we're trying to find our way through this, while also helping our kids deal with their trauma and grief. I'm hoping I can get a bit of support here, as it's only people who have gone through this themselves that can really understand what we're going through. Thanks xx

Permalink Reply by Kar on August 15, 2010 at 8:27pm

Sending you love & support <3 So So Sorry ....

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