This is an article link that Danielle sent me. An example of what one can do with one's story.
http://www.canadianliving.com/health/mind_and_spirit/personal_essay_in_the_stillness_of_my_heart.php
While I'm at it, I might as well confess that I also had an article published two years ago in Mothering Magazine. Here it is--
http://www.mothering.com/articles/body_soul/grief_trauma/charlottes-grace.html
ALSO--
This is a very touching (it will make you cry) thing off of MSNBC on NILMDTS
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/22425001/vp/23481435#23481435
Bereaved Parent's Wish List
Bereaved Parents Wish List
1. I wish my child hadn't died. I wish I had her back.
2. I wish you wouldn't be afraid to speak my child's name. My child was, and is, very important to me. I need to hear that she was important to you also.
3. 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 about my child, and you have allowed me to share my grief. I thank you for both.
4. I wish you wouldn't "kill" my child again by removing her pictures or other remembrances from your home. Please help keep her memory alive.
5. Being a bereaved parent is not contagious, so I wish you wouldn't shy away from me. I need you now more than ever.
6. 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.
7. I know that 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 those things through a phone call, a card or note, or a real big hug.
8. I wish you wouldn't expect my grief to be over in six months or even a year. These first months are traumatic for me, but 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.
9. I am working very hard in my recovery, but I wish you could understand that I will never fully recover. I will always miss my child, and I will always grieve that she is dead.
10. 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.11. 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.
12. I wish you understood how my life has shattered. I know it is miserable for you to be around me when I'm feeling miserable. Please be as patient with me as I am with you.
13. When I say "I'm doing okay," I wish you could understand that I don't "feel" okay and that I struggle daily.
14. 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.
15. 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'm doing good to handle an hour at a time.
16. 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 time alone.
17. I wish you understood that grief changes people. When my child died, a big part of me died with her. I am not the same person I was before my child died, and I will never be that person again.
18. I wish very much that you could understand; understand my loss and my grief, my silence and my tears, my void and my pain. BUT I pray daily that you will never understand.
(Author Unknown)
1. I wish my child hadn't died. I wish I had her back.
2. I wish you wouldn't be afraid to speak my child's name. My child was, and is, very important to me. I need to hear that she was important to you also.
3. 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 about my child, and you have allowed me to share my grief. I thank you for both.
4. I wish you wouldn't "kill" my child again by removing her pictures or other remembrances from your home. Please help keep her memory alive.
5. Being a bereaved parent is not contagious, so I wish you wouldn't shy away from me. I need you now more than ever.
6. 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.
7. I know that 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 those things through a phone call, a card or note, or a real big hug.
8. I wish you wouldn't expect my grief to be over in six months or even a year. These first months are traumatic for me, but 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.
9. I am working very hard in my recovery, but I wish you could understand that I will never fully recover. I will always miss my child, and I will always grieve that she is dead.
10. 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.11. 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.
12. I wish you understood how my life has shattered. I know it is miserable for you to be around me when I'm feeling miserable. Please be as patient with me as I am with you.
13. When I say "I'm doing okay," I wish you could understand that I don't "feel" okay and that I struggle daily.
14. 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.
15. 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'm doing good to handle an hour at a time.
16. 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 time alone.
17. I wish you understood that grief changes people. When my child died, a big part of me died with her. I am not the same person I was before my child died, and I will never be that person again.
18. I wish very much that you could understand; understand my loss and my grief, my silence and my tears, my void and my pain. BUT I pray daily that you will never understand.
(Author Unknown)
The Thing Is
The Thing Is
To love life, to love it even
When you have no stomach for it
And everything you’ve held dear
Crumbles like burnt paper in your hands,
Your throat filled with the silt of it.
When grief wrists with you, its tropical heat
Thickening the air, heavy as water
More fit for gills than lungs’
When grief weights you like your own flesh
Only more of it, an obesity of grief,
You think, how can a body withstand this?Then you hold life like a face
Between your palms, a plain face,
No charming smile, no violet eyes,
And you say , yes, I will take you,
I will love you again.
This is such beauty, crafted by Ellen Bass, and it always brings to me a surge of energy, validating all that I have been through.
To love life, to love it even
When you have no stomach for it
And everything you’ve held dear
Crumbles like burnt paper in your hands,
Your throat filled with the silt of it.
When grief wrists with you, its tropical heat
Thickening the air, heavy as water
More fit for gills than lungs’
When grief weights you like your own flesh
Only more of it, an obesity of grief,
You think, how can a body withstand this?Then you hold life like a face
Between your palms, a plain face,
No charming smile, no violet eyes,
And you say , yes, I will take you,
I will love you again.
This is such beauty, crafted by Ellen Bass, and it always brings to me a surge of energy, validating all that I have been through.
Directions to our Room
The Hospital is located at 30 Locust St, Northampton Massachusetts.
Conference Room D: To get to this room, go in the main entrance with the revolving door, down the big hall and to the right of the big stairs. Follow the hall back, and follow signs to the cafeteria or cafe. You will start to actually enter the cafeteria and will see Conference Room D on the left
Conference Room D: To get to this room, go in the main entrance with the revolving door, down the big hall and to the right of the big stairs. Follow the hall back, and follow signs to the cafeteria or cafe. You will start to actually enter the cafeteria and will see Conference Room D on the left
EMPTY ARMS WESTERN MASSACHUSETTS
Welcome to this new site, created for the members and potential members of our Empty Arms Group which is run out of Northampton, Massachusetts. I am the director of the group, having founded it eighteen months ago, and it has always been my ambition to have some kind of internet site to accompany the group. Time has been my enemy in creating this, but hopefully once I have an address and site I will pick away at adding books, online resources, and links to great writing. I also hope to use this site as a way to keep people informed of group events, to share photographs of those events, and to always have a way to find directions to our conference rooms at CDH and the date and time of the next meeting. So... off to work on the sidebars!
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