How many times can one person say, I don’t want this nightmare... make it go away!

Please, please, bring my child back to me, I just can’t do this, why can’t they see?

There is no fixing what has already happened, Our lives are forever broken and saddened. People will try to give comforting words. Reasons and purpose all seem so absurd. Screaming and crying we all try to fight,

And pray for the day when we “see the light”. Until that day comes, there is a small hope,

A place where victims actually help us to cope. They understand, as they have been there too, When you’re falling apart, this can be the glue.

Walk down the hall and into the room. Don’t worry; it won’t be all doom and gloom.

No one will patronize and say sadness will end, All we can offer is a COMPASSIONATE FRIEND.

If this is your first Newsletter If you are receiving this newsletter for the

first time, it is because someone has told

us it might be helpful for you. We hope it is.

We also invite you to our monthly meetings

at Hayes Barton Baptist Church. At these

meetings you talk or choose not to say a

word. There are no fees or dues. We are

sorry you have had to experience the

death of a child (or children) but we are

here for you. We, too, are on this journey

of grief and extend our hearts and arms to

you . . .

August Meetings: The Wake County Chapter meets every second and fourth Tuesday of the month at Hayes Barton Baptist Church, 1800 Glenwood Avenue, at the corner of Glenwood Avenue and Whitaker Mill Road at Five Points in Raleigh. Enter from Whitaker Mill Road into Main Entrance of the Family Life Center which is attached to and behind the church. Ask directions to

TCF meeting room at desk just inside the entrance door.

Tuesday, August 9th — The meeting

will start at 7:30 pm.

Tuesday, August 23rd — The meet-ing will start at 7:30 pm. Our speaker will be Beth Eastman. Please see paragraph below for more informa-

tion about Beth and her book.

Inside this Issue:

Love Gifts

Rituals 2

Poems 3

Living After a Child Dies

Grief 4

Who Are The Compassion-

ate Friends

The Uninvited 5

There’s Help

Hope for the Day 6

Proactive Grieving 7

Two Levels of Grief 8

Forgiving: A Process 9

Continuations for Articles

on pages 7. 8 & 9 10

Our August Children 11

Volume 6 Issue 8

August 2011

Compassionate Friends

Written by Cathy Joostema for our Wake TCF Group in memory of her son Cole Burwell

Will You Trade Your Dreams for His? is a story that walks through death, betrayal, anguish and finally—complete sur-

render. In January 2008, Beth Eastman’s life began to crumble as she faced the prospect of losing her marriage and her

daughter. Throughout her ordeal God called on Beth not only to endure but to write, and she obeyed by sharing her

faith, strength and anguish in letters and a blog. Through Beth’s story we see that God’s plans are not necessarily our

plans. Her honesty and unmovable faith encourage us not to give up. God always gives us what we need despite unex-

pected and often, overwhelming challenges. [Beth is a member of our Wake County TCF Group.]

2

Larry and Diane Barbour

In loving memory of our son

Zachary Taylor

[on his 35th birthday]

Dick and Jean Goldberg

In loving memory of our son

Tommy Goldberg

Pattie and Jack Griffin

In loving memory of our son

Jackson Edward Griffin

Thomas and Roslynn Martin

In loving memory of our beloved son

Sean Martin

[Gone but Never Forgotten—We love you my darling.]

If you would like to give a Love Gift in remembrance of your child, or if you would like to make a donation to our Wake

County Compassionate Friends group, please mail your gift to:

Love Gifts — Wake County Chapter

The Compassionate Friends, Inc.

P. O. Box 6602

Raleigh, NC 27628-6602

In order for these gifts to be acknowledged in the following month’s newsletter, they need to be received no later than

the 15th of each month. We are grateful for the gifts given in memory of children. This is the only source of income for

our chapter expenses and they are tax deductible. Thanks to each and everyone who sends a love gift.

I don't know why rituals help us heal, but often they do. One day, less than a year after Philip had died, a friend and I met

on a private beach in Gloucester, Massachusetts. The beach was special to both of us, because the mother she had lost and

the son I had lost had both spent wonderfully happy hours on it.

We didn't quite know how to do a ritual so we made one up. We each gathered a large handful of stones, and then

we sat down on the sandy beach with our stones by our sides, facing one another. Each of us in turn placed a stone

down on the sand, and as we did so, we shared something about the loved one we had lost. Our anecdotes ran the

gamut from happy and funny to sad and longing. We laughed, and we cried. Gradually the stones formed a circle, and

we then placed the two remaining stones in its center, in honor of Philip and her mom. We stood up, hugged, and went

to have lunch at a favorite place nearby. There we shared photographs and more memories. By the time we parted, we

both knew her mom and my son were happily alive in both our memories. And we felt wonderful for having celebrated

their lives together.

After I moved to California, I met my dear friend Nell at the first TCF Marin meeting I attended. And ever

since, on the birthdays of our sons and on the day they each died, Nell and I have gathered at a special beach to

do our own ritual, similar to the first but unique to us. We like to toss flowers into the ocean in memory of John

and Philip. Nell often brings something to read, which I like and will do in the future, too. We, too, laugh and cry.

We often, but not. always, do the circle of stones. I love that I'm getting to know her John, and that she is be-

coming acquainted with my Philip. Though our two beloved sons died, their spirits, their humor, their extraordi-

nary creativity and their love are very present in these gentle sharing times.

I encourage you to do whatever rituals are helpful and easy for you. Feel free to borrow ours. May whatever you do to

celebrate and remember your child touch and bring ease to your heart.

Catharine (Kitty) Reeve

TCF, Marin & San Francisco, California, Chapters

August LOVE GIFTS – gifts given in loving memory:

I N M E M O R Y

3

Today is gone and

Yesterday is only a memory -

But tomorrow is hope -

That all of the todays

And all of the yesterdays

We hold in our hearts

Can strengthen us,

For we can now walk

With a lighter step,

For we are not alone.

We now walk together

Through the sharing, warmth

And understanding

In the special companionship

Of our Compassionate Friends.

by Deby Amos, TCF Anniston AL

REMEMBERING

Go ahead and mention my child ,

The one that died, you know.

Don't worry about hurting me further -

The depth of my pain doesn't show.

Don't worry about making me cry -

I'm already crying inside .

Help me to heal by releasing the tears

that I try to hide.

I'm hurt when you just keep silent ,

pretending it doesn't exist ,

I’d rather you'd mention my child,

knowing that he has been missed.

You asked me how I am doing,

I say "pretty good" or "fine",

But healing is something on-going ,

I feel it will take a lifetime.

TCF, McMinnville, Oregon

My grief is about a toothbrush lying dry on the bathroom sink.

Its about a sweater tossed carelessly on his bed

—a pile of dirty laundry.

It's about a folded bag of Cajun Chips

with a few left

that he should have come back to finish.

It's about a folder neatly

labeled "American History"

with notes about the balance of trade

scrawled in preparation

for some future reckoning

—some silly test.

It's about bumping into him

in the hall as he rushed out and I rushed in.

It's about every instant spent folding clothes

and only half-listening,

not really noticing

—when I could have been studying his face,

hearing his needs,

being with him.

It's about driving past the high school

where he should be

and being overwhelmed by mute,

inextinguishable rage.

My grief is about

silence I can't speak across

and emptiness I can't reach across.

Most of all,

it's about horrible,

unequivocal … finality.

Older grief is gentler.

It's about sudden tears

swept in by a strand of music.

It's about haunting echoes of first pain,

at anniversaries. It's about feeling his presence for an instant one day while

I'm dusting his room.

It's about early pictures that invite me

to fold him in my arms again.

Older grief is about aching

in gentler ways, rarer longing,

less engulfing fire.

Older grief is about searing pain

wrought into tenderness.

Linda Zelenka

TCF - Orange Park Jacksonville, FL

What life means to us is determined not so much

by what life brings to us as by the attitude we bring to life;

not so much by what happens to us as by our reactions to what happens.

~ Lewis L. Dunnington

4

While death is something that affects us all and no one

is immune, during the course of our lifetimes we don't

expect our children to die before us. Dealing with the

death of a child is a very difficult issue. As most of you

know, the death of a child is like losing part of ourselves,

losing something that feels irreplaceable. Bereaved par-

ents often equate it to losing a limb.

Research tells us that the average person will have to

make funeral arrangements at least three times during

their lives. We will attend funerals of people with whom

we are very close as well as those to whom we are not

very attached. We all go through life knowing we will

most likely bury our parents. We also know that we might

bury our spouses, our relatives, and our friends., How­

ever, there is one form of death that we don't expect.

We never expect or anticipate having to bury one of our

own children.

The death of a child is not a part of the cycle for which

we are prepared. We hope and we pray that it will never

happen to us. Why does a child die when he or she has

lived such a short time? Why is a child's life ripped away

in their prime? Why at a time when they haven't even

had a chance to live a full life?

The death of a child can be the most difficult form of

grief to deal with. It causes us to confront our deepest

fears and examine our strongest beliefs. We never give

thought to burying our child. It just isn't the natural or-

der of things. When a parent dies we lose our past; when

our spouse dies, we lose our present; when a child dies,

we lose our future; all that we had hoped for, not only

for our child, but for ourselves as well. It's painful to say

good-bye to our child as well as to all the dreams we had

for the future.

Children can be one of our greatest teachers. If adults

listen, a lot can be learned. There is something about a

child's perspective that can be really comforting. Just

before his death, a terminally ill six-year-old hugged his

mother and said, "Don't worry, Mommy, it is okay for me

to die because I won't be in pain anymore and I will be in

heaven living with God." The words of this six-year-old

were filled with wisdom. Healing from a child's death can

take a very long time. Many things might reopen the

wound; for instance, seeing a boy or girl the age of your

child; watching someone else's child grow up; or just sit-

ting next to a child in a place of worship can all be excru-

ciating; as can the question of "How many children do

you have?" It is hard to know how to answer that ques-

tion. Do you answer, "I have three children, but one is

dead," or 'I have two", and not mention your deceased

child? There is no right or wrong answer; it is okay to de-

cide each time, depending on the situation.

Certain days are obviously going to be more difficult.

Birthdays, graduations, vacations, or other anniversary

dates or holidays can be very painful. You hurt so much

because you loved so much. These are normal grief reac-

tions to losing your beloved child.

When a child dies parents often don't know if they will

survive; the pain is so great that it feels like they may

die of a broken heart. One mother said, "I wondered if I

would ever be able to feel anything again except anger

and sadness. I am so glad to say—yes, eventually I found

hope and joy again, but it was a continuous journey

with ups and downs." Grief is hard work. Finding a sup-

port group such as The Compassionate Friends can be

an important lifeline. Being with people who under­

stand the intense pain that is being experienced can be

very helpful in the healing.

The death of a child is devastating, but it also can pro-

vide an opportunity for an individual to become a

"wounded healer." When a person has healed from their

wound, they can be there for someone else who is just

at the beginning of their grief. Many people who have

had a child die give back to others by just being there.

When dealing with the pain and grief of a child's death,

take time to do the work of grief. Grieve in the way that

best works for you, talk about your feelings, be gentle

with yourself, and remember that this is not a path that

has to be walked alone. There are loving and caring peo-

ple who are willing to be there for you. Reach out, get

support, and know that only the strong know when to

ask for help.

By Howard R. Winokuer, PhD. LPC, IVCr, FT The Winokuer Center for Counseling and Healing

Heidi Horsley, PsyD. LMSW, MS

Grief is a solitary journey. No one but you knows how great the hurt is. No one but you can know the gaping hole left in your life when someone you know has died. And no one but you can mourn the silence that was once filled with laugh-ter and song. It is the nature of love and of 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. by Helen Steiner Rice

We Need Not Walk Alone

5

The Uninvited

I did not seek Grief’s walk with me.

I would have done without it.

My lot a happier one would be.

There is no doubt about it.

But she said, “Come! You cannot choose!

I'm ever near, beside you.

When you love much what you now lose,

I'll fiercely rage inside you!

My anger, guilt and deep despair

Will most severely test you.

At first you'll find no comfort there

Even though you try your best to.

In time you'll know me very well,

Although you'll wish I'd vanish.

About my anguish you will tell

Which you can never banish.

But time alone, as we sojourn,

Will bring a healing measure,

And to your mind there will return

Those memories you treasure.

So walk with me, learn from me there,

How you may succor others,

For I’ll enable you to care

For new found sisters, brothers.

You will more understanding be,

That comes to grievers only,

Who walk the valley dark with me

And learn the depths of lonely.

So grow with me as walk we must,

Let tears flow from your eyes, Sir.

In time you'll learn again to trust.

Though sad, you will be wiser.”

I walked with Grief; it had to be.

I could not spurn her chiding.

For once my life knew tragedy

I could not stay in hiding.

And just as Grief told me above,

I from my loss did rally,

And from that walk there came a love

For those now in the valley.

Let Grief complete her walk in you,

Be not ashamed, nor fight it.

Your loss is very great, ‘tis true,

And grief will never right it.

But you will see, as time goes by,

A peace within, and more too,

For spite of pain you can't deny,

Death won't be victor o'er you!

Robert F. Gloor,

Tuscaloosa, Alabama TCF

Who Are The Compassionate Friends? ~ by Dana Rogers ~

When I lost my son four and a half years ago in a drown-

ing accident, my world caved in on me and my family. I

was crippled with grief and saw no hope. How could we

go on living with this pain and without our son? Who

would understand the depth of our loss and the extent

of our pain? "Family" took on a different meaning. Ours

had a void that would never be filled. The fabric of our

lives took on another thread, “a black one.” It would be

woven into the rest of our lives.

The Galveston Chapter of The Compassionate Friends

reached out to me soon after the accident. I ignored

their cards, newsletters, and literature. I told myself that

I was not one of them. They were sad people who all had

one thing in common. They had lost a child. I felt that

acknowledging them would mean that I accepted my

son's death. I couldn't. It wasn't real. It was a nightmare

that would surely end. The Compassionate Friends con-

tinued to reach out to me. After several months I saw a

need to help raise funds for TCF's local Children's Memo-

rial Garden. This was going to be a huge endeavor that

required the work of many to see this dream become a

reality. I poured myself into this project. I could do this

for my son. His life meant something and so did his

death.

No one wants to be a part of this all-inclusive group. But

where else do we belong? Because of our common

thread, we do understand, we are compassionate and

very supportive. When the seasoned members reach out

to the newly bereaved, their desperation is evident in

that they are lost, alone, and afraid. "We Need Not Walk

Alone" is more than our motto. It is also our mission. We

reach out to those who need us and help the ones who

have found us.

I find myself very involved with the Galveston Chapter

now as I realize what it means to the newly bereaved to

see that life does go on. They are all looking for hope

and small pockets of peace. This is what they find when

they reach out to TCF.

The Compassionate Friends is a national nonprofit or-

ganization, but despite substantial public awareness ef-

forts, is not as widely known as we'd like because no one

wants to think they will ever need our support. Unfortu-

nately, when a family is faced with the unthinkable, they

may be too wounded to seek us out. However, our 620

U.S Chapters have been quietly reaching out to and help-

ing families deal with their grief since each was estab-

lished, usually growing from only a few members to sev-

eral hundred or more. One of our goals is to help fami-

lies find a way to go on without their children, and an-

other, just as important, is to "Remember Our Children."

6

There's Help — The Power In Talking

One of the most valuable things you can do is talk it out with a good listener. We now know that the stress level of bereaved people can be cut in half when they talk about the death to someone who does not judge or advise them.

Having someone as a backboard to hear your thoughts bounced

off is the greatest gift you can receive. Too often, everyone wants to make you feel better; so they try to advise rather than listen.

Remember, repeating your story is healthy. Talking about your loved one, the illness and/or death, works like a sponge. Each time you talk, a little more of the pain is squeezed out and the need to talk about the incident becomes less. It's as if your story is being framed within your mind. Soon you can hang it on the wall. You'll always

have it there to look at whenever you want, but you no longer have to carry the whole thing around with you and be burdened and

controlled by the past.

There will be times when no one is around to listen. You'll need to do something different. Talk into a tape recorder. Keep a journal to

write down your thoughts and feelings. Buy a journal just for this purpose. Select a color that you like and write when there's no one

around and you need to talk. Talk out loud as you write if it makes you feel better.

Write a letter to your loved one who died. This can be a very powerful process. Share your thoughts and feelings. Pour them out on paper. You may feel emotionally drained afterwards. If so, nurture

yourself. Examples: wrap yourself in a blanket and take a nap,

watch a movie, or hold and/or pet the family pet. You may even find it helpful to write a letter back from the person who died.

Others have found that just talking aloud or into a tape recorder was helpful. Some stand in front of the mirror to talk. As a friend once said to me, "Don't worry about talking out loud to yourself. It's

good to have a conversation with an intelligent person."

However you do it, remember: "Talking it out is one of the best medicines of all."

While some people won't want to listen to you, you'll also find they

can say some really stupid things. Offer them suggestions for kinder, more compassionate words they can use with bereaved people. It

will help them to help you and others more effectively because some people really want to help, but just do not know how.

You will also find others who understand when you go to a support group. You will meet other mourners with similar feelings and problems. They can provide tremendous emotional affirmation. Why not come to the next meeting? This group of bereaved parents listens, even to those who say nothing. Come, listen, share if you want to, receive love and compassion. You do not have to walk alone. Come walk with us.

by Kelly Osmont, MSW

“Hope for the Day”

(from SilentGrief.com)

When we are grieving a loss, we often feel like giving

up on everything. We’re wiped out—exhausted. We

feel like we’re empty and nothing at all can begin to

fill us back up. It’s all we can do to stare at the

clock and make it through another hour.

During those first months following a loss, it’s so

important to take time to adjust to the new place

where we’ve been forced to live. We’re on new turf

and nothing looks, feels, or smells familiar. And, it

takes time to adjust, time to get a feel for what life

is minus the one that we loved so much.

It’s important to know that you’re going to feel this

way for a while. It’s important to give yourself time

to work through all of the different emotions of

grieving. It’s even important to recognize when it’s

time to let go a bit. At first that might sound harsh.

But, in reality it’s not. Letting go is a form of hope.

Letting go says that I now understand what has

happened, and it’s time for me to find a new normal.

I’ll never, ever forget the one I love so much, but I

must begin to live again or I will stay stuck in a very

dangerous place called denial.

It’s so hard to break loose of those feelings of

aloneness, guilt, fear, emptiness, and fatigue. It’s

hard to look for hope in a place where everything

seems so dark and devoid of hope. But we can, and

we must. We don’t have to look down the long road

of years without our loved one. All we have to focus

on is today. Right now is what we have. And, with a

bit of hope, you can take one tiny step forward in

this journey called grief. Reach out. Touch a life with

your smile. Fill your lungs with the fresh air and be

thankful. Watch the glory of a new sunrise, and know

that this day was made just for you! Hope will carry

you through!

“Hope is finding the blue in the sky that once

looked so black!”

~ Clara Hinton

7 Lovingly Lifted from TCF We Need Not Walk Alone Summer 2011

(continued on page 10)

8

(continued on page 10)

Lovingly Lifted from TCF We Need Not Walk Alone Summer 2011

9

(continued on page 10)

Lovingly Lifted from TCF We Need Not Walk Alone Summer 2011

10 Lovingly Lifted from TCF We Need Not Walk Alone Summer 2011

Forgiving: A Process, continued from page 9

Two Levels of Grief, continued from page 8

Proactive Grieving, continued from page 7

12

Chapter Leader: Gwynn Winstead...787-0176

Bereavement Letters: Mara Lewis...481-2787 (e-mail: mlewisnc@gmail.com)

Program Chairman Lisa Hamilton...747-1794 (e-mail: lisahamilton6@aol.com)

Treasurer: Gary Yurcak...847-1780 (e-mail: gyurcak@bellsouth.net)

Newsletter Editor

& Membership Info: Pattie Griffin...829-1982 (e-mail: pattie.grif@gmail.com)

Remembrance Cards: Mary Lou Clarkson...501-7769 (e-mail: mlcwhc@aol.com)

Sue Mellott...266-7103 (e-mail: suemellott@yahoo.com)

Website: www.TCFWake.com (email: dennisr711@gmail.com)

National Office Information: P.O. Box 3696, Oak Brook, IL 60522-3696 Toll-Free: 877-969-0010 / Ph: 630-990-0010 Website: www.compassionatefriends.org Email: nationaloffice@compassionatefriends.org

The Compassionate Friends, Inc. Wake County Chapter PO Box 6602 Raleigh, NC 27628-6602

THE COMPASSIONATE FRIENDS, INC. Wake County Chapter PO Box 6602 Raleigh, NC 27628-6602