Grieving Parent

Category: Comforting Thoughts

  • The Story Behind “Precious Child”

    The Story Behind “Precious Child”

    While searching for information about the Worldwide Candle Lighting I stumbled upon the song “Precious Child.” Or maybe I should say I was grabbed by the song. It really had a strong affect on me.

    Because this song had such a strong affect on me, I went searching for the artist. “Precious Child was written and performed by Karen Taylor-Good. While at her website I left a message on her guestbook.

    Well, I was surprised the other day to find a message from Karen in my email box.

    Karen wrote a very nice note. She told me the story of how she came to write this powerful song.

    I asked her to let me post that message here and she gave her permission.

    Here is her note to me:

    Dear Joe,
    I want to thank you so much for taking the time to write to me about “Precious Child”.

    I read many of the entries on your website….and want to tell you how very sorry I am about the loss of your son, Richard. He sounds like an amazing young man.

    I’ve only witnessed what it’s like to be a bereaved parent from the sidelines….my nephew Paul was murdered when he was 21, and I watched my sister go through that tremendous grief. I know that only those of you who’ve been through it can understand it, or have any idea what it’s like.

    Bonnie, my sister, became involved with the Compassionate Friends, and was helping them plan their meeting in Nashville several years ago. She asked me if I would come and sing something.

    We both wondered what I would sing….we thought about my song “How Can I Help You Say Goodbye”, but although it’s about loss, it’s pretty “mother” specific. I asked her to give me a few days to see if anything came.

    I was up at the Waffle House the next morning, with my husband Dennis. In the middle of breakfast, I started hearing the song……..in all of the 500+ songs that I’ve written, this has NEVER happened before…or since.

    I asked Dennis to please stop talking,

    I grabbed a pen from our waitress, a waffle house napkin, and I wrote down the song…..using numbers for the notes….the whole thing just came.

    I recorded it a week later, and we passed it by her “committee”…..who wondered if I had used the words “precious child” too many times…..and a couple of other nit-picky things that I said….”nope…not changing it” to……….but then, they asked if I would change this line….to account for the many varying beliefs of all the parents who might hear the song:

    What I HEARD and what I wrote down was:
    ……God knows I want to see you, feel you, touch you….and I KNOW there’s a heaven and some day I will again………

    This is not particularly my belief….I have no real, set religious beliefs….I’m open to many ideas….not so open to many others…..but this is what I heard.

    They asked me to please change it….so I did….to “MAYBE there’s a heaven….”

    Just thought it was important to share that with you, dear Joe….not that it could possibly make your grief any less.

    I am honored that the song is speaking to your heart. I know that I was simply used as an instrument to get it out to you, and to my sister, and to other bereaved parents.

    My love to you and your family….
    Karen

    Having talked to Karen a few times now via email, I find that she is not only very talented, but a generous and nice lady as well.

    Thanks Karen.

  • Our First Candle Lighting Ceremony

    Our First Candle Lighting Ceremony

    Tonight we went to the Compassionate Friends Worldwide Candle Lighting at Frankfort, KY.

    This is a memorial service for the parents, family and friends of our lost children. We honor the memory of our child with music, poems, a slide show and a candle lighting service. This event happens in each time zone all over the world. Sort of the grieving parent version of doing the wave as candles are lit in sequence around the world.

    I went fully intending to not cry.

    Yeah, yeah… I know all about how it’s OK for men to cry – that real men cry and all that stuff. And I don’t apologize for shedding tears for Richard. I miss him tremendously. But I don’t like crying in front of a bunch of people. People I’ve never met. Even when many of them are also shedding tears.

    So I wasn’t going to cry.

    But there was one problem. The song Precious Child.

    I stumbled onto Precious Child yesterday while checking the Compassionate Friends website for info on the Candle Lighting. That song is used in the video they had on the site.

    Precious Child grabbed my heart. Hard. The lyrics are all the thoughts and feelings I’ve had for the last 6 months, but didn’t have the talent to express out loud.

    And it made the tears flow.

    So I had to find out who did that song. I searched and found the website of the artist – Karen Taylor-Good. And I downloaded the song.  And I played it. And tears streamed down. And I played it more. And cried more.

    I was sure this tune would be part of the Candle Lighting, so if I was going to avoid the public display of tears I would need to become immune to it’s powerful effect on my heart. I needed a vaccine for Precious Child.

    So I played it over and over and over. I listened to it at least 100 times. Probably more.

    I know this sounds compulsive and it probably is. But that’s how I’ve always been. I hear a song that touches me for some reason and I have to hear it over and over. Sometime for hours.

    And I listened to Precious Child. And listened.

    I like to sing along. But I could never get through singing Precious Child without getting choked up.

    And so we went to the Candle Lighting. And sure enough, it was featured during the program. But it wasn’t the recorded version by Karen Taylor-Good. It was to be performed by Kathy Casey. So maybe there was hope for me. Maybe Kathy Casey wouldn’t do such a good job, and I’d be able to control myself.

    But as soon as she opened her mouth I knew I was toast. She sang beautifully.

    And the tears welled in my eyes. And they rolled down my checks and fell into Debbie’s hair.

    And the tears flowed when Richard’s picture showed on the screen. And during the Candle Lighting part of the service.

    There were a lot of people there. And most of the pictures showed young people, like Richard. Young people that were loved and are greatly missed.

    And we are not alone. But I wish we were.

  • Richard’s Fruit Salad

    Richard’s Fruit Salad

    The holiday season has arrived. And for us that means family gatherings.

    My siblings, our children and our dogs meet at “The Farm” – my dad’s place.

    The Farm is 153 acres of rolling hills surrounded by creaks. There are ponds for fishing and plenty of woods to explore. The kind of place you can let the kids and the dogs go free. Where they can let their spirits soar. The kind of place you can reconnect your soul to the universe.

    There is a also the house. It’s always been big. But since mom died in 2000 my dad has been expanding it. I guess that’s his way of dealing with grief. It could now serve as a small hotel. Heated with wood stoves, it’s the perfect place for a nice nap after a big holiday meal. Spots on the two couches in front of the stove fill quickly after dinner.

    And speaking of big meals.

    Our family gatherings include plenty of food. Dad usually provides a turkey and at Christmas a ham. Each of us kids bring several dishes as well. From appetizers and snacks to salads and casseroles to desserts, there is something to eat the entire time you’re there.

    Over the years each of our families has taken certain dishes as their assignments – bringing them every year.

    One of our “assigned” dishes has been fruit salad. I usually get the job of cutting up the fruit. This is an assortment of apples, white and red grapes, bananas and mandarin oranges. Debbie then mixes all these together in a big bowl and stirs in some salad dressing.  We might add some pecan pieces if we have any in the house.

    It tastes good. But it doesn’t age very well. Something about that mix of fruit, salad dressing and time doesn’t work. As the day wears on it sort of liquefies and darkens. It gets ugly. Still tastes good, but no one wants it.

    Richard used to complain about it.

    Last year Richard told us he’d make the fruit salad. In addition to the our usual ingredients he added pineapple, kiwi and strawberries. Instead of salad dressing he squeezed the juice from two fresh lemons and poured that over the fruit and mixed it together.

    It was good. It was pretty. And it stayed pretty. People liked it.

    So we assigned Richard the role of fruit salad chef for all future family gatherings.

    This past Thanksgiving we had to do the fruit salad again. We tried to use Richards recipe.  It turned out pretty good.

    But it was missing an important ingredient.

  • Thanksgiving – Our First Big Holiday

    Thanksgiving – Our First Big Holiday

    It’s Thanksgiving Day here in the USA. Time to give thanks to our maker for all the good things he has given us.

    It has also been six months since Richard died.

    So you probably think we won’t find anything to be thankful for. After all it’s hard to be thankful for grief, pain and a huge part of our life missing.

    It takes more work to find it, but yes, there is much to be thankful for.

    I’m grateful for my great family and friends. All the love and support they’ve given us has been pulling us through this process. It still hurts, but I can’t image what it would be like without them.

    I’m grateful to have my beautiful daughter and the grand-dog home with us for this holiday. She’s a very special young lady.

    I give thanks everyday for the wonderful memories. They make us realize how much we’ve lost, but they remind us of what we had. And it was special.

    And this one may make you think I’ve gone completely off the deep end. I’m thankful this hurts so very much.

    No, I don’t enjoy the pain. It’s nearly unbearable.

    But this pain is so intense because we had so much love and fun with Richard. He was a treat. We had a special relationship his whole life. I wouldn’t change much.

    Of course there are somethings I’d like to have been able to do. Richard did shot put and discus in high school. Because I work second shift I wasn’t able to be at all those week night contests. I would love to have been there for every one.

    And I missed most of his weekend camping trips with his Scout Troop because I had to work most weekends. But those weekend work days made it possible to send him to a great high school. He loved St X, and the teachers and programs helped make Richard into the fine young man he became. So I owe them my gratitude too. And his Scout Leaders led him to Eagle Scout. More to be thankful for.

    But we still had a lot of fun together. He never became the surly disrespectful person so many teens turn into.

    I’m grateful we had our kids. They taught me what love is all about. They made me a totally different – and much improved – person than what I was so many years ago. And Richard was a huge part of that.

    So yes, finding reasons for thanks is a hard thing. It takes work.

    About a year before Richard’s death, an employee of one of our on-site vendors lost his entire family in an auto accident. His wife and three kids gone. My friend Kathy, who hasn’t had children yet, asked me, “If you knew you would lose them early like that, would it be worth so much pain? Would you still want to have them?”

    I told her I thought I would, but because I’d never had to face that kind of pain and couldn’t really imagine what it must be like, I didn’t know for sure.

    I now live that pain. I know the answer.

    Yes I’d gladly have him again.

    He was worth it.

  • Strange Dream

    Strange Dream

    I haven’t had a dream since Richard died. At least not one I remembered.

    Until last night.

    In my dream I was checking out Facebook.

    And Facebook said, “Richard Mudd commented on…”

    A couple of times.

    Don’t remember whose Facebook posts he commented on. Not sure I even recognized the names.  Seeing Richard making comments sort of shocked me, you know?

    The dream went away before I could read the comments. So I don’t know what he said.

    Strange.

    Does this mean anything? If so what?

    I don’t know.

    I’m still waiting for Richard to accept my Facebook friend request.

    If he can leave comments, surely he can do that.