Robert, I think you would have to save a picture from the email to your computer first & then add it to the site- save it to your desktop, then it is easy to find. Hope this works for you- let me know.........
And take care ! Sending you extra hugs in the next few days Robert ! (((((((((((((((((((( HHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGG)))))))))))))))))

Welcome Rodney - (((( HUG )))

Rodney we welcome you and are so sorry for your loss. You are in my thoughts and prayers. God bless. ((((((((((hugs))))))))))))

So Much Pain with all of Us !
I wish I had the words..............
Just know I care about all of you & send you all love.

Robert - please know you and your family are in my thoughts and prayers - I can imagine the day will be very painful for you all - concentrate on your new little girl and be sure that your Angels are watching over her and keeping her safe. God Bless
Gail

Rodney - welcome to this group - there are a few people you already know and sadly more Bereaved Parents who have to join us here.
Hugs and prayers are the order of the day - together with a shoulder to lean on when it all gets too much.
Gail

I use to welcome a new day - Now I welcome the end.
I use to smile and laugh the day away - Now I just want to disappear.
I use to be able to touch your sweet face - now I mourn you.
I use to have it all - now I am suppose to except your gone.
I use to believe in justice and truth - now I learnt that is a joke.
I use to enjoy life - now I pretend to live.

There are so many feeling going through my heart. Since the day our daughter died the days are darker, the clock has stopped ticking, there is no laughter, smiles are rare, people tell me that I must move on, that Irene (our daughter) wouldn't want me to be like this. But how can I move on when she isn't here? How can I laugh when I know I will never hear her laughter again? My heart is as empty as my arms. Tears fall like rain. When I go outside the house, life moves on, but I can't.

I got this from another group and thought it was worth a share


THE GIFT OF LOSS

Most of you know that I lost my 8-year-old daughter Scout to cancer on July 7, 07. The past nine months have been by far the most painful of my entire life. I don’t know that there is anything worse than losing a child. At first, I didn’t want to live–and this is typical for parents who lose a child. In fact, many plan their suicides. For months I woke up every day wishing that the world would disappear. I tell you this not to elicit your sympathy, but so you will know that it was from the depths of this kind of pain that came the unexpected gifts I will talk about today.


I had thought that if Scout died, I would not be able to go on. And yet here I am. And not only am I here, but I have learned more in these past nine months than I ever thought possible. I feel like I have undergone the most astonishingly rapid spiritual growth spurt of my life–sort of spiritual boot camp, if you will. It’s tough going, but if makes for fast changes.

What have I learned?

1. I have learned that our culture deals very badly with death.

We ignore it, deny it, and avoid it as much as possible. This is manifested in so many ways: the positive value our culture puts on youth and looking young and feeling young (instead of valuing the wisdom that comes with age); the measures we go to, to keep people alive at the very end of their lives; the way we consign dying and death to hospitals and funeral parlors, instead of allowing these very natural and inevitable things to happen at home.

Why does this matter, our culture’s denial of death? Because when death comes–and it always does–we are shocked, frightened, unprepared, at a loss. We don’t know how to sit with someone as they die, comforting them and supporting them as they make the sacred journey to the other side. A dead body seems creepy to us because we have never touched one before. We push
aside grief and try to “move on” because our sadness is uncomfortable to those around us, and to ourselves. We don’t know what to say when a friend or family member loses someone close to them, and so we stay away and say nothing.

Compare our culture with this example:

Sobanfu Some is an African healer and lecturer. She speaks about the way grief is regarded in her culture. In her village, at any given time there is a grief ritual-taking place. Anyone who is
grieving is welcome to come, to cry, and to feel together in a community of others as a simple matter of course. The notion of avoiding this process and these feelings is as illogical to them as avoiding a meal when feeling hungry. Holding onto grief is likened to holding onto a toxic substance. It is only through the acknowledgment and expression of the grief that the health of the organism is restored.

And our fear of death is really an aspect of a larger concern: our fear of loss. Think about this: “All relationships end.” All relationships end. I read those words recently and was struck by the
paradox that while this is so obviously true, we almost never pay attention to it. It’s too frightening; I think to live daily with this realization.

In a strange way, embracing the inevitability of loss has given me comfort: what happened to Scout and to me is not out of the order of things, it is PART of the order of things. As my husband said, “Eventually, if she grew up she’d have to say goodbye to us when we died. She just happened to go first.”

I’ve been reading a lot of Buddhist philosophy these past months, and a central precept of Buddhism is that the source of human suffering is an unwillingness to accept loss. But as Mary Oliver reminds us, loss is a part of life, because change is a part of life.

So if I face my mortality head one, the next question becomes, What am I going to do with this life that I do have?

The moment we fully acknowledge the inevitability of death is the moment we fully feel the preciousness of life, because it doesn’t last. So life and death are parts of a whole–one can’t exist without the other. Which brings me to the next lesson I’ve learned:

2. Happiness is overrated.

I don’t think the point of life is to be happy. I think the point of being here on earth is to grow as human beings–to gain a deeper understanding of and appreciation for all that is. And guess what: we don’t grow when we are comfortable. It is when we are challenged, when we suffer, when we are uncomfortable, that we grow the most.

Now, you might argue that as we grow as human beings, we in fact become happier–yes, happy in the truest sense of the word–not fun, ha-ha, laughing at jokes happiness, but a kind of hard-earned happiness that comes from experiencing both pain and joy, both life and death. From realizing that they are parts of a whole. The happiest person I ever met was a Holocaust survivor. My senior year in college I took a course on Literature of the Holocaust, and toward the end of the semester the professor invited this woman to speak to the class. She had the most serene, genuine, warm presence I have ever seen in a person.

3. I have learned to let go of what I cannot control (and to cherish what I have).

This lesson was a gift that first came when Scout was diagnosed with cancer in January 07. During those first days, as I sat crying in her hospital room, I realized, “I cannot control the outcome of this. But what I can do is love her with every ounce of my being for as long as she is here.” And I did that. I was also determined not to allow the terror of losing her to distract me from enormous gift of having her there right then. But the possibility that I could lose her gave me the gift of a deep, attentive love with her. I remember her asking me last spring, “Mom, why are you kissing me so much?”
Letting go of what we cannot control means also letting go of the fantasy that somehow if we are good, if we are kind, if we believe in God, if we make the right choices, then nothing bad will happen to us. When Scout died, I wondered, “Why her? Why not some kid who was a bully, who didn’t have a happy life, who was dumb, whose parents didn’t care about them?”And I realized
after a time that the answer to, “Why me?” is “Why not me?” Nothing makes me or my family immune from death or illness or injury. (And of course the life of a kid who is a bully or not so smart or whose parents don’t care about him are just as precious as my daughter’s life.) But I suffered a loss of innocence: I realized I am not immune from tragedy.

No, we can’t control what happens to... but we can make do with what we’ve been given. What really matters in life is not what happens to you, it’s what you do with it.

4. I have learned that when your heart breaks, it breaks open.

I think of it this way: each of us builds a hard shell around our heart to protect ourselves from deep pain. (But in my vision, the shell doesn’t keep pain from coming into your heart–because the pain is already there, it’s an unavoidable part of life, because loss is an unavoidable part of
life. Rather, the shell keeps the pain in, confines it, so we don’t have to think about it or feel it.) But this same shell also keeps in feelings of deep joy and deep love and of peace, of oneness with the universe. So, since my heart was broken from losing Scout, I have experienced not only the greatest pain of my life, but also the greatest love and gratitude I have ever known.

I find I am less interested in judging people, less willing to get in the middle of conflicts, I spend less time speculating about people’s motives, more aware of and appreciative of the good qualities in people. I spend more time amazed at and grateful for what life has brought me–especially Scout. What a miracle that she was here, for eight perfect years, that I got to be her mom.

In my extended family, there has been an astonishing change since Scoutie went up. I have four sisters, and my mom and dad are still around, and we have always been close, but with conflict. But since July, each and every one of my sisters and both my parents have shown an enormous generosity of spirit, not only toward me, but toward each other. Scout’s death changed my
parents’ relationship, my relationship with my husband, and more.

5. I have learned that love is the strongest force in the universe.

I told this story at the celebration of Scout’s life in September, so some of you have heard it. In late August, my friend Marcie said to me, “You are going through such an extraordinary time. What are you learning?” I told her that I didn’t know; I was too deep in grief to see that yet.
Later that night I was lying in bed and suddenly the answer to her question came to me–and it was so simple that I had almost missed. The big lesson in all this, in Scout’s illness and our struggle to get her cured and our deep sadness upon losing her–the overarching theme in all this is not loss, or cancer, or how unfair the world is, but LOVE. As I lay there, I found myself
actually grinning. My love for Scout, and Neil’s love and Leo’s love and my sisters’ love for Scout, Scout’s love for us, the outpouring of love that my family received from friends and colleagues and neighbors: everything else pales in comparison to that love.
Most importantly, I realized when I lost Scout that nothing, but NOTHING, could take away my love for her, and so I would always be connected with her in that way. Cancer could take away her body, but it could not touch my love. Love can outlast time, distance, and even death. It is, indeed, the strongest force in the universe.

As anyone who has suffered a terrible loss will tell you, I would return all of these gifts in a second if it meant I could have Scout back. But I can’t have her back. A few months ago while I was swimming laps, I thought to myself, “My life is over.” And the universe spoke to me–or maybe it was God, depending on your beliefs–and said gently but firmly, “No, it’s not over; it’s just different.” I can’t have Scout back--and so the important question is, What do I do now with what I have? Here, now, in this life that is so very different from the one I had, and from the one I wanted–and this is where I find myself. Where do I go from here? I have these unexpected gifts to help me along the way, and I feel they are gifts from Scout.

*Delivered at the Wednesday chapel service at Manchester College, April 2, 08.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Abigail A. Fuller
Associate Professor of Sociology and Social Work
Director, Peace Studies Program
Manchester College

I miss my Jacob with every single beat of my heart
Jacob passed away after a 20month Battle with AML ( Leukaemia )
on the 16th June 2005 1 day before his 14th Birthday
In life there are moments
when you miss someone
so much, That you wish you
could grab them out of your
dreams and hold them tight
Love Jacob's mum "Leukaemia Sux!" www.caringbridge.org/me/jacob

You don't have to die to loose your life.

My only child, my daughter, was killed in a tragic accident on Memorial Day of this year. She was 33 years old. I miss her so much, and as I read through the comments I realize I am not alone with these feelings and emotions for which there are no words to describe. The raw pain, the tears, the anger, the questions to which there will never be any answers; I feel like I have found a group that truly understands the depths of my loss. My heartfelt condolences to each of you.

Dear Laura
I'm so sorry for you loss I know how hard the first day,months and years are after you have lost a child
My Your daughter fly high in heaven Happy healthy and pain free
sending love to surround you and your family always
with Love Jacob's mum
"Leukaemia Sux!" www.caringbridge.rg/me/jacob

Common Myths about Grief

Myth:
The younger the child/baby, the less intense your pain should be.

Truth:
It may be true that society grants us less of a right to grieve for infants and stillborn babies, however, the truth is that the love of a parent is not contingent upon the amount of time we had with our child. Love simply cannot be measured in time. Some may try to "prorate" our grief. That is, if a ten-year-old dies, it is worth "x" amount of pain. . . if a one year old dies, it is worth "y" amount of pain . . . if a one day old dies, that is worth only "z" amount of pain. It seems ridiculous to bereaved parents, doesn't it? Consider this . . . Would it be easier to bury your child when you did or would it be easier to bury them one year later? It is an impossible question to answer. There is no easier time, no lesser pain. It is horrible whenever it happens.

Myth:
It has been six months, you should be over this by no
Truth:
The truth is, you will never "be over" this pain. The pain never completely leaves. We will grieve our entire lifetime for the child we should have with us. When others think we should have gotten over it by now, they are confusing the significance of the death of a child with an event of much lesser significance. You get over the loss of a job, a broken bone or a friendship gone awry. The death of a child, at any age and from any circumstance, is a life changing and tragic event that will never be forgotten. You will however, eventually learn the skills necessary to assist you in dealing with the pain. Day to day life will never be "normal" and may never feel the way it used to, but time does help to ease the pain.

Myth:
Sleeping pills, antidepressants or alcohol will help to get you through this pain.

Truth
Some parents who take pills or use alcohol after the death of their child, eventually realize that they may have been postponing the inevitable. Grief is hard work.
Physically exhausting and mentally draining, it is. But I compare grief to a loan. We must all pay back the loan to the rightful owner . . . eventually. The longer we wait to pay the money back, the higher the interest rates and penalties. Accept and embrace the depth of the grief as a normal reaction to the most difficult experience a human could endure.

Myth:
Another baby is the answer to the grief.

Truth:
Your deceased child's life is worthy of all the pain you feel. While another child will fill your empty, aching arms, it will never replace your other child. Allow yourself time to grieve your child. Do not rush yourself. Another baby may add more pressure on you, your surviving children, your spouse and your new child. Be cautious not to venture into an unprepared pregnancy, too soon after the death of your beloved child.

Myth:
You need to forget your child and go on with your life.

Truth:
Many people will ridicule you if; photographs of your deceased child are placed in your home, if you still attend support group meetings or if
you memorialize your child years after his or her death. Your faithfulness to your child's memory is to be commended! Do not let others discourage your gift of dedication.

The truth is, twenty years after the death of Elvis Presley, the whole country stops to recognize him with candlelight vigils in Grace land. The event is televised worldwide
on CNN and every other news station and television station in the country. This is a completely acceptable practice which millions of Americans, young and old, partake in. Yet, the same communities would have grieving parents questioning their own sanity when they chose to participate in an event, quietly memorializing someone far more important in their life- their own child. Remember your child. Do not let others determine what is right for you. Remember and do not be ashamed!

Myth:
You will soon become yourself again.

Truth:
The truth is, you probably died with your child. You may have remnant pieces of the former self remaining, however, you are unlikely to become exactly who you
were before. Get to know who you are once again. Your child's death has changed many things about you and you will need time and patience to reacquaint yourself with the new person you have become!

Myth:
Support groups are for weak people.

Truth:
The truth is, that the death of a child is the most isolating and lonely event in a human's life. Many grieving parents say that friends become strangers and strangers become friends. The reason for this is clear. How can any one else possibly understand the depth of this pain if they had never experienced it before? An analogy I like to use is related to weight loss. Let's say I struggled with obesity all my life and finally made a decision to do whatever I needed to lose weight and become healthy again. Courageously, I check myself into a weight loss clinic. However, the mentor and counselor assigned to help me through my struggle with weight is 110 lbs and a size three, and she has never been overweight a day in her life. How in the world is she going to understand your pain, your struggles and your fears? She never can. It is unlikely that you will even feel comfortable relating to that person. Support groups are a safe haven for parents to go and share the deepest of their pain with others who have experienced the same feelings. Many support groups are full of strong and compassionate people who are dedicated to helping newly bereaved parents find hope and peace in their life.

Myth:
I am going crazy.

Truth:
Every parent who has gone through the death of a child, feels as if they are crazy. The vast array of emotions can overwhelm us. Many of us feel emotions we never knew we could feel. It is frightening and shocking.

The usual routine of day to day life suddenly annoys us. We feel out of place even amongst the closest of family and friends. We cannot attend baby showers or birthday parties. We may feel too weak and drained to get out of bed in the morning. Once enjoyed activities become dreaded tasks for us. Some parents are unable to perform at work, while others may become completely absorbed in their jobs as an attempt to escape the pain. Some parents express that the grief has become so unbearable, that they prayed God would take them while they sleep. It is a roller coaster ride. Some days we are able to laugh and feel joy again. While other days there seems a black cloud hanging over us the entire day. Who wouldn't feel crazy while undergoing all of these many emotions?

You aren't crazy. You are a grieving parent, simply missing what should have been in your life. Be patient and kind to yourself. While the longing for your child will never disappear, time grants us moments of peace in between the tidal waves of pain. Allow those peaceful moments to bring you closer to your child's love and the gifts they have left for you to discover.

Gail,
Very well said. Everyone of the things you wrote are so true. Thanks for sharing it.
Rodney

Gail: I don't know where you get such words of wisdom. God certainly sends you as an angel when I need to hear something. Thank you.

Gail, thank you for sharing your Common Myths about Grief. I cannot believe how you hit the nail on the head! It gives me a clearer picture of what to expect in the coming days, weeks, months and years. Family and friends who have not experienced the loss of a child would really benefit from your writings. Again, thank you so much!

Aw thank you all for your lovely compliments but I cannot take the credit. Sadly over the years I have gathered quite a library of helpful articles which do help us to understand the utter madness that has become our lives.
It does help to share these pieces with people close to you - if they have never experienced the pain of losing a child then, with the best will in the world, they cannot possibly understand.

Laura - it is so important that you understand there is no time limit on this - no-one can tell you when it is 'time to move on' - I hate that phrase!! We can only heal as fast our hearts allow us to.

Ann - I think the Angels choose the pieces they want me share haha!!


Sending all of us a huge (((((((((((((hug)))))))))))))))))) this morning
love Gail xxxxxxxxxxxxx

What Grieving People Want You To Know
by Virginia A. Simpson , Ph.D.

Grieving people, you may want to print this out and give it to a
friend...

Through my work and the privilege of listening to so many stories, I
have come to wonder where people get their ideas about how another person is supposed to grieve.

Here's a test for you:

1. How long does it take to recover after someone you love has died?
2. When should a person begin to "get on with their lives?"
3. Do you think it's better to mention the deceased's name to the
grieving person or to avoid mentioning the name so that you won't
make that person cry?
4. Do you think it's a good idea to tell a grieving person how strong
they are?

You can figure out the answers to these questions by understanding what grieving people want you to know about them.

1. I am not strong. I'm just numb. When you tell me I am strong, I feel that you don't see me.

2. I will not recover. This is not a cold or the flu. I'm not sick. I'm grieving and that's different. I will not always be grieving as intensely, but I will never forget my loved one and rather than recover, I want to incorporate his life and love into the rest of my life. That person is part of me and always will be, and sometimes I will remember him with joy and other times with a tear. Both are okay.

3. I don't have to accept the death. Yes, I have to understand that it has happened and it is real, but there are just some things in life that are not acceptable.

4. Please don't avoid me. You can't catch my grief. My world is painful, and when you are too afraid to call me or visit or say anything, you isolate me at a time when I most need to be cared about. If you don't know what to say, just come over, give me a hug or touch my arm, and gently say, "I'm sorry." You can even say, "I just don't know what to say, but I care, and want you to know that."

5. Please don't say, "Call me if you need anything." I'll never call you because I have no idea what I need. Trying to figure out what you could do for me takes more energy than I have. So, in advance, let me give you some ideas:

A. Bring food.

B. Offer to take my children to a movie or game so that I have some moments to myself.

C. Send me a card on special holidays, birthdays (mine, his or hers), or the anniversary of the death, and be sure and mention her name. You can't make me cry. The tears are here and I will love you for giving me the opportunity to shed them because someone cared enough about me to reach out on this difficult day.

D. Ask me more than once to join you at a movie or lunch or dinner. I may say no at first or even for a while, but please don't give up on me because somewhere down the line, I may be ready, and if you've given up, then I really will be alone.

E. Try to understand that this is like I'm in a foreign country where I don't speak the language and have no map to tell me what to do. Even if there were a map, I'm not sure right now I could understand what it was saying. I'm lost and in a fog. I'm confused.

F. When you tell me what I should be doing, then I feel even more lost and alone. I feel bad enough that my loved one is dead, so please don't make it worse by telling me I'm not doing this right.

G. Please don't call to complain about your husband, your wife, or your children. Right now, I'd be delighted to have my loved one here no matter what they were doing.

H. Please don't tell me I can have other children or need to start dating again. I'm not ready. And maybe I don't want to. And besides, what makes you think people are replaceable? They aren't. Whoever comes after, will always be someone different.

I. I don't even understand what you mean when you say, "You've got to get on with your life." My life is going on, but it may not look the way you think it should. This will take time and I never will be my old self again. So please, just love me as I am today, and know, that with your love and support, the joy will slowly return to my life. But I will never forget and there will always be times that I cry.

Hello to all...hope everyone is doing fine. It is just so hard. Gail, I did copy/paste the writings about grief and shared them with friends and family. It seems everyone has returned to their daily lives and are moving forward. It's not to say they did not love Angela but they have families, jobs, etc. that occupy their time. My husband and I have no grandchildren, he is retired and I chose to quit my job two years ago and stay home. We live in Texas and my daughter lived in Alaska with her husband. Quitting my job allowed me to visit her and be available when she came home for visits. Everything seemed to be going smoothly. I just don't know how to occupy my time now; I really do not want to rejoin the work force. I am simply not motivated at this time but I know I need to keep my mind busy so that I don't go into a deep depression. I do search online for ideas....volunteering is at the top of the list. What do I volunteer for??? (just thinking on paper and sharing)
Just rambling on a Sunday afternoon....it just feels good to know that my comments are read by others like me. I don't feel so alone.
Take care

Hi Laura - (((hugs))) to you first of all - I can see that your initial period of shock is beginning to wear off and the awful reality is starting to hit you. I'm so sorry you have to go through this.
I can remember too watching people going about their business as if nothing had happened - it made me really angry and I wanted to scream out at them 'don't you know what has happened?'.
In reality, nothing has changed - for them. Life goes on and the normal everyday things they did before, just go on with it.
I found after Meshael died that I had this whole period between waking and sleeping with NOTHING in it. Its the most awful feeling and you feel redundant, there seems no purpose for you anymore. This will pass in time and slowly and surely your time will be filled with other things to fill that gaping hole but as I cannot say enough - it takes time. Don't try to run before you can walk. This is a journey of pot holes and pitfalls and we have to tread gingerly. I must say that I went back to work as soon as I was able to, it helped me to be thinking about something else and filled a few hours and I'm sure it was therapeutic. But, it is something you should could be looking at in the future. Honestly speaking though, I would recommend you leave it for a little while as you may not feel up to facing people at times - even doing voluntary work. I was lucky enough to work at a place where I could just let them know 'I was having a bad day' and they took no notice of any emotional outbursts that just happen without warning!
The internet is great for finding support groups - I run a small group myself, we've been going for a few years now and have formed some really wonderful friendships with ladies I will probably never meet but the ties we have are forever.
You could start some kind of memorial for your daughter, a scholarship or prize at her school maybe? What were her interests? How about starting a memorial website where you can share photos and memories of Angela with friends and strangers? These are just some ideas, I'm sure you will find more. But, as I say over and over - one day at time!!!
One of my life changing decisions was to get a new puppy - she gave me a reason to get up every morning and puppies can always bring a smile to your face when you're feeling down.
Don't make any important decisions right now - give your mind time to settle back down - you're probably more shaken up than you realise.
Check to see if there are any Compassionate Friends groups close to you - their meetings are fantastic and the it is really helpful to meet other parents.
Hope this helps a little and you can always email me anytime if you're down and don't feel like sharing with an open group.
Sending you a bunch of hugs and healing light
Gail x

Thanks for the words of encouragement, Gail. I am at the point right now where I get up....have that big void....then go to bed. I feel so numb and useless. I do have somewhat of a routine during the day because I do have my husband and 4 dogs to take care of! I just look forward to tomorrow hoping for a little less pain and sorrow; it hasn't happened yet. I do blog on myspace and also have my personal journal of poetry and letters written for/to my daughter. What is especially difficult is that I am still waiting on official documents from the state of Alaska--the accident report, the death certificate, and the M.E.'s report--I need to read what happened. I need to read how she died. Then I can move forward. Does that make sense?
We are looking at ways to memorialize my daughter. There is a guest book on legacy.com in place and I am looking at helping non-profit animal shelters in Alaska and Texas. But you are right, I am making no big decisions right now. At times I bounce off the walls! I tell my husband I want to move out of this house--20 minutes later I am making plans to remodel this house! So many thoughts, most of them all mixed up! But since finding this website and this particular group I have really felt better!
My mantra is one day at a time, one hour at a time, one minute at a time.

Laura - oh sweetheart I wish I could come by and just give you a big hug.
It makes me so angry that the powers that be are so slow in issuing these documents to us. Having received that most dreadful news - you now need to understand (as much as possible) what happened. This does not give you 'closure' (there is no such thing anyway) but it does help to make the reality of what has happened sink in.
It may or may not help you to move on - you are still in the very earliest stages of grief. It is the hardest thing to accept our children are gone and it can take months, sometimes longer for that to happen.
I can really empathise with you over your 'plans' - I was moving to Australia at one point in my earliest stages of grief (I'm still here in London though haha). Are you able to talk to your husband about how you are feeling? Men can sometimes grieve very differently to women but that is another topic!!!!
I'm loving your ideas for helping the animal shelters - I support one myself (actually in Houston I think) and have sponsored a dog in Meshaels name - she would love that!!
I hope you soon get those answers you are looking for - and I hope that they will enable you to move on but don't rush it. There's no quick answer on this I'm afraid. But I am glad that you are finding some help from this group. That's another reason we are here
Sending you Angel hugs
Gail x

Understanding of what happened is all I want. Because I am not her next of kin I am required to go through her husband who is not very communicative or forthcoming with information. Remember, I am in Texas and they are in Alaska. It is just so frustrating! I realize there will never be closure but baby steps moving forward is okay with me right now.
I do talk to my husband and he knows to just listen unless I ask him directly for an answer. I also meet with a behavioral therapist.
Meshael is a beautiful name...is there a history behind it?
Thank you again for being there and thanks for the Angel hugs!

Sadly Laura - this is where the system lets us down - he is her husband - you are her mother how can you NOT be next of kin? Another beaurocracy we could all do without. One of the girls in my group has been waiting for the coroner to hear her daughters case - it was three years in February. In the meantime she is left high and dry with no answers. It isn't fair.
I'm glad you and your husband are able to talk (listen) - some men are not able to and it makes life so much more difficult.
My daughters name is an old Arabic name - it means Eternal Light. Our story is quite complicated and far too long to write here but if you would like to read more about her please visit her website - http://legobeaver.com/meshael/meshael1.html - I'm off to work now so I send you a hug and speak soon xx

As we get ready to move on to another month, I just wanted everyone to know that I am thinking of you all. Even though we may not be having the brightest of days, we are here and there is hope. Someday the sun will shine again. The birds will sing. Until then my thoughts and prayers are with you all. God Bless

Laura ~ Since your daughter was killed in an accident, you have the right to request copies from everyone involved. According to the Freedom of Information Act they have to release this information to you as long as you can provide some type of documentation that you are the mother.

GIANT {{{{{{{HUGS}}}}}}} TO EVERYONE TODAY!!

WE HAVE HAD A CRISIS HERE. JAMES' (our son) FRIEND AND OUR ADOPTED SON CHRIS WERE DRINKING IN THE GARAGE. THEY HAD BEEN DRINKING FOR A LONG TIME TODAY. WHEN I LEFT AROUND 1:30 TO GET MY HAIR DONE CHRIS ASKED ME TO BUY HIM A PACK OF CIGARETTES AND I SAID YES. WHEN I GOT HOME AROUND 4:30 JAMES WAS PAST OUT ON THE COUCH AND CHRIS HAS FALLEN ONTO THE FLOOR. I DIDN'T THINK MUCH ABOUT IT. ROGER CAME HOME A FEW MINUTES AFTER I DID AND TRIED TO GET CHRIS ONTO THE COUCH. CHRIS WAS DEAD. WE TRIED TO DO CPR ON HIM UNTIL THE AMBULANCE CAME BUT HE NEVER CAME BACK. RIGHT NOW THE HOUSE IS FILLED WITH COPS AND DETECTIVES. THEY ARE WAITING FOR A WARRANT TO SO THEY CAN SEARCH THE HOUSE. THEY SAID THAT WILL TAKE ABOUT 4 TO 5 HOURS. AS IT STANDS NOW JAMES COULD BE AN ACCESSORY TO A HOMICIDE.
WHEN THEY DO A SEARCH THEY WILL FIND DRUG AND NEEDLES IN JAMES' ROOM. THEY HAVE US IN THE LIVING ROOM AND FOLLOW US EVERYWHERE WE GO, WATCHING US.
I DON'T KNOW HOW JAMES WILL HANDLE THIS. CHRIS WAS HIS VERY BEST FRIEND. HE STAYED HERE WITH US. I'M SCARED OF WHAT JAMES MIGHT TRY TO DO.
I JUST CAN'T BELIEVE THAT CHRIS IS GONE. HE WAS ONLY 24 YEARS OLD. HE HAD HIS WHOLE LIFE A HEAD OF HIM. MY HEART IS BREAKING. HIS POOR PARENTS WILL HAVE TO HEAR IT FROM THE HOSPITAL.
WE ARE SUPPOSE TO LEAVE AT 3:00 THIS MORNING. GOD HELP US ALL.

Katherine - this is such terrrible news - I'm so sorry - I'll keep in contact via email - sending massive hugs to you and your family today - as if you haven't already had enough pain and grief - try to keep strong my love
xx

Here is what has happened so far. The police came to the house and kept us under house arrest until they could get a warrant for a house search. They did not find any drugs in our home from James. But I had a bag of Roger's pain medication in my dresser drawer. He uses this because of his cancer surgery. We had went on a trip ages ago and I forgot I just put them in there. They arrested me and booked me. They could have put me in jail but instead released me after taking my finger prints and picture. I now have a court date for the 24th of August. I need to hire an attorney. No money so will have to depend on a public one. This thing just keeps getting worse.

Katherine -- do you have the oiriginalk bottles that the medication came? If you do this will help prove your case. Also, a letter rom your husbands doctor or even better if he/she would agree to testify at your court date. In either case know that you will be in my prayers.

Today is Chris' funeral. It's like losing a son. You might as well say he was our adopted son. Feels like my heart is being pulled out from my chest. Now I have lost 2 children. I should be able to handle this, no how to handle this. I've been through it before. Why do we keep going when it seems we just keep getting slapped in the face over and over again? I miss him so much. why at 24 did he have to die? He had so much to live for. I had so much more love to give. His parents didn't want him but we did. He had been living with us for years now. So many whys but we all know that there are no answers. That hurts too. How do I get through today? I love you my son and I'll miss you.

Just wanted to say Hi to everyone & send you all Love...
I haven't been to the site in quite a while- I am just really struggling & don't feel like I am helpful to you. But, think of all of you everyday!
(((Much Love and Hugs)))

Three Months

Damn it, damn it, damn it to hell, I was doing okay, feeling pretty swell.
Looked at the date, August twenty fourth; no special meaning that I could tell.

Why am I feeling so utterly sad, not all that good, just a little bad.
No missed appointments, no special occasion, perhaps a meeting with my dad?

No that's tomorrow, Tuesday he said, so why am I feeling all this sorrow?
Is there something to return, something I kept, but only meant to borrow?

Got on with my day, lots to do, that's when it hit me, it's all about you.
My baby, my child, my little girl, three months tomorrow, don't know what to do...

From this earth you have taken your leave; I still find this really hard to believe.
When you were alive I knew what to do but now all I know is how to grieve.

A piece of my heart is gone forever but my love for you will leave me never.
From womb to the grave was only 33 years but life with you was joyous endeavor!




**Though Angela was 33 years of age when she died, she will ALWAYS be my baby. The imprint on my heart is that of a smiling, laughing child, making her way through life helping others. I will say it over and over...like all of us she was not perfect but she was the perfect daughter! Rest in peace my little one...watch over us as you have always done.
Angela Diane: May 10, 1976-May 25, 2009

Laura - sending you a million hugs and hoping that today will pass more brightly. Sadly, there will be many moments like these - especially during the first year. Whilst we 'think' we are over the worst - our heart and mind can tell us quite the opposite. I'm just on my way out to work but will drop by here later. xx

Laura ~ what a beautiful poem. I also love the name of your daughter.

Gail and Ann,

Thank you for your heartfelt comments. I have written so many poems these last couple of months~it helps to cope with the pain and confusion of her death. Hope you are doing okay and finding just a bit more peace in your heart with each passing day.

hello everone. im new here. im jan. i lost my daughter on 24 April last year (2008). she had Cerebral Palsy. she and i fought for her life continually. we bonded more than imaginable. we had endless times "living" in hospitals. but we had even more times loving life, loving each other, laughing. at 12 years old, she just couldnt anymore. i just wanted to say hi, and meet with people who might be going through similar pain. i am devastated. but i have to be super strong as i have another 3 children, aged 6, 9, and 11, who are traumatised and needy. i want to cry all the time. anyone i can talk to? thank you so much, jan

Hi Jan,
I am so sorry for the loss of your daughter. I too believe the bond between mother and daughter is so special it cannot be described. My 33 year old daughter was killed in an ATV accident on May 25 of this year~she was my only child~ and I too am devastated. There are also no words to describe the pain I feel everyday. I no longer cry everyday but I feel so confused and alone. So many people expect me to "be over" her death by now. Needless to say I avoid contact with these people. I come here to share and learn how others deal with grief, to get support and give support. I love my daughter so much and miss her even more...

Take care and hope to hear from you soon.

Sincerely,
Laura

hi laura, so nice to hear from you. im so very sorry for your loss. as far as the stupid things people say, i even started writing a brief BOOK on "Things people say"! some - the stupidist things imaginable. but i really feel this is the best kind of place we can talk, and yes, learn how each other deals with our pain. hope to talk a lot. wishing you strength. love jan

Hey Jan,

Thank you for your condolences...
The hardest thing for me is the confusion within. "She can't be gone", "She is gone", "No, it can't be"...
We were so close even though she lived in Alaska with her husband (she was born and raised in Texas where I still live). We talked everyday, several times a day. They had no children. I raised her as a single parent so we had many trials and tribulations through the years but we loved each other so much and were not afraid to say it each time we hung up the phone. She was the perfect daughter and now she is my perfect Angel.
One day we can share our collection of stupid comments-I know people mean well but the comments which makes me want to slap someone is when they say "I know it must be hard" or "I know how you feel...yet they have not experienced the loss of a child". Hard?? I have found no words to describe the gut-wrenching, heartbreaking and devastating pain we feel. I wish they would just say "my thoughts and prayers are with you".


Thank you for listening. I would love to hear about your daughter if you would like to share a bit.

Laura

Laura and Jan ~ my heart goes out to both of you. The pain can never be described and only understood by someone who had been there. I will add you both to my prayers that God wil send his mercy and help you during the hard times. For me the hardest thing is when friends or family want to quit talking about my son. While our children may not be with us on this earth, they are still a very large part of our lives. Talking about the good times helps me cope with him being gone.

Any way welcome to our little group. Come and post your questions anytime. I am sending you both large amounts of cyber hugs {{{{{{HUGS}}}}}

Thank you, Ann.
My family just does not know what to say to me anymore about my daughter. I would love to hear "do you remember when....".

Laura~Would you mind sharing one of your favorite stories with us here?

Ann, thank you for asking...one of my favorites goes back to when she was about 3 years old:

My dad, Angela's grandpa, was taking a business trip to Miami. As we were standing outside the car to take him to the airport he was holding Angela telling her he was going to Miami but would be back soon. My brother tells him to have a safe trip to Miami and my daughter proceeds to smack my brother on the shoulder. He asks her, "what was that for"? and she replies..."it is not your AMI it is grandpa's AMI"!! (her 3 year old brain heard "MY-AMI) Out of the mouth of babes!

That is a cute story. Truely out of the mouths of babes!!

One of the most important things I have found as a Bereaved parent is that people do not forget. To one extent I am really lucky to have friends around me who remember and share with me those special moments. My family don't speak of her unless they are really pushed into a corner and HAVE to but you can see how uncomfortable they are - so I stick with my friends. The trouble is for a lot of us that we are surrounded by people who feel uncomfortable and don't know what to say. One of the most painful things I found was those that actually turn away from you when you tell them your daughter died. I can understand that they can't contain their feelings but to be honest I would rather see their pain and know they care. Thats why groups like this one are so important - here we can share sad times and happy times alike - because we all understand how important those happy memories are. They are what will keep us going, day after day, year after year. They are all we have and should be celebrated not ignored.
Hugs to all xx

Don't tell me that you understand,
Don't tell me that you know.
Don't tell me that I will survive,
How I will surely grow.

Don't stand in pious judgment
Of the bonds I must untie.
Don't tell me how to suffer,
Don't tell me how to cry.

Don't tell me this is just a test,
That I am only blessed,
That I am chosen for this task
Apart from all the rest.

My life is filled with selfishness,
My pain is all I see,
But I need you, I need your love,
Unconditionally.

Don't come at me with answers
That can only come from me.
Don't tell me how my grief will pass,
That I will soon be free.

Accept me in my ups and downs,
I need someone to share.
Just hold my hand and let me cry,
And say, "My Friend, I care".
Author Unkown