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The Gift of Grief
"Death takes away." That's all there is to it. But grief gives back. By experencing it, we are not simply eroded by pain. Rather, we become larger human beings, more compassionate, more aware, more able to help others, more able to help ourselves. Grief is powerful. It plunges us into the depths of sorrow and forces us to face the finiteness of life, the mightiness of death, and the meaning of our exisistance here on earth. It does more than enable us to change: it demands it. The way we change is up to us. It is possible to be forever bowed by grief. It is possible to be so afraid of one aspect of it that we become frozen in place, stuck in sorrow, riveted in resentment or remorse, unable to move on. But it is also possible to be enlarged, to find new direction, and to allow the memory of the beloved person we have lost to live on within us, not as a monument to misery but as a source of strength, love and inspiration. By acting on our grief, we can eventually find within ourselves a place of peace and purposefulness. It is my belief that all grievers, no matter how intense their pain, no matter how rough the terrain across which they must travel, can eventually find that place withintheir hearts. 
A Bereaved Parents Wish List I wish my child hadn't died. I wish I had him back. I wish you wouldn't be afraid to speak my child's name. My child lived and was very important to me. I need to hear that he was important to you also. If I cry and get emotional when you talk about my child I wish you knew that it isn't because you have hurt me. My child's death is the cause of my tears. You have talked to me about my child, and you have allowed me to share my grief. I thank you for both. I wish you wouldn't "kill" my child again by removing his pictures, artwork, or other remembrances from your home. Being a bereaved parent is not contagious, so I wish you wouldn't shy away from me. I need you now more than ever. I need diversions, so I do want to hear about you; but, I also want you to hear about me. I might be sad, and I might cry, but I wish you would let me talk about my child, my favorite topic of the day. I know you think of and pray for me often. I also know that my child's death pains you too. I wish you would let me know these things through a phone call, a card, note, or a real big hug. I wish you wouldn't expect my grief to be over in a short period of time. I wish you could understand that my grief will never be over. I will suffer the death of my child until the day I die. Grief is a long process. I am working very hard in my recovery, but I wish you could understand that that I will never fully recover. I will always miss my child, and I will always grieve that he is dead. I wish you wouldn't expect me "not to think about it" or to "be happy." Neither will happen for a very long time, so don't frustrate yourself. I don't want to have a "pity party," but I do wish you would let me grieve. I must hurt before I can heal. I wish you understood how my life has shattered. I know it is miserable for you to be around me when I am feeling miserable. Please be as patient with me as I am with you. When I say "I'm doing okay," I wish you could understand that I don't "feel" okay and that I struggle daily. I wish you knew that all of the grief reactions I'm having are very normal. Depression, anger, hopelessness and overwhelming sadness are all to be expected. So please excuse me when I'm quiet and withdrawn or irritable and cranky. Your advice to "take one day at a time" is excellent advice. However, a day is too much and too fast for me right now. I wish you could understand that I am doing good to handle one hour at a time. Please excuse me if I seem rude, certainly not my intent. Sometimes the world around me goes too fast and I need to get off. When I walk away, I wish you would let me find a quiet place to spend some time alone. I wish you understood that grief changes people. When my child died, a big part of me died with him. I am not the same person I was before my child died, and I will never be the same again. I wish very much that you could understand--understand my loss and grief, my silence and my tears, my void and my pain. BUT....I pray daily that you will never understand. 
Resolutions for Bereaved Parents/Loved Ones I will grieve as much and for as long as I feel like grieving, and that I will not let others put a time table on my grief. I will grieve in whatever way I feel like grieving, and I will ignore those who try to tell me what I should or should not be feeling and how I should or should not be behaving. I will cry whenever and wherever I feel like crying, and I will not hold back my tears just because someone else feels I should be "brave" or "getting better" or "healing by now." I will talk about my child/loved one as often as I want to, and that I will not let others turn me off just because they can't deal with their own feelings. I will not expect family and friends to know how I feel, understanding that one who has not lost a child/loved one cannot possibly know how it feels. I will not blame myself for my child/loved one's death, and I will constantly remind myself that I did the best job (of parenting) I could possibly have done. But when feelings of guilt are overwhelming, I will remind myself that this is a normal part of the grief process and it will pass. I will not be afraid or ashamed to seek professional help if I feel it is necessary. I will commune with my child/loved one at least once a day in whatever way feels comfortable and natural to me, and that I won't feel compelled to explain this communication to others or to justify or even discuss it with them. I will try to eat, sleep and excersise everyday in order to give my body strength it will need to help me cope with my grief. I will know that I am not losing my mind and I will remind myself that loss of memory, feelings, or disorientation, lack of energy and a sense of vulnerability are normal parts of the grief process. I know that I will heal, even though it will take a long time. I will let myself heal and not feel guilty about feeling better. I will remind myself that the grief process is circuitous-that is, I will not make steady upward progress. And when I find myself slipping back into the old moods of despair and depression, I will tell myself that "slipping backward" is also a normal part of the grief process and these moods, too, will pass. I will try to be happy about something for some part of everyday, knowing that at first, I may have to force myself to think cheerful thoughts so 
Links to other grief sites Zoom MISS Bereavement Transformations Meeting of Hearts GriefNet Home Page Children's Cancer Memorial Peace Love and Comfort from GriefAid Home Page - GROWW - Grief Recovery Online Heavenly Playground: where children are forever playing  
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