Author: Joe Mudd

  • Helping a Grieving Parent

    Helping a Grieving Parent

    As my shift at work was winding down that Thursday evening, I was thinking about how I would spend the vacation time I had scheduled for the next day. I was taking off on Friday to have a long weekend. My wife Debbie and I were planning to celebrate our wedding anniversary over the weekend, though our actual anniversary date had been on Wednesday. Then I got ”the call.

    It was that call all parents fear most. The one from the coroner to tell me our youngest son Richard was dead.

    Our lives changed forever in that instant.

    Instead of celebrating our anniversary we planned a funeral and went shopping for a casket, flowers and a grave plot.

    It’s now been over a year since Richard’s death. We spend a lot of time thinking back on those early days. It was all such a foggy blur. What helped us in that time? What helps now? What can you do for a grieving parent? Here are some of the things that cut through the fog and into my memory – things that made a difference.

    Give Your Time

    There is an amazing amount of planning and activity involved in having a funeral.  We had a memorial service the day before Richard’s funeral and the actual funeral service to plan.There are just so many details. Can you take on some of that work?

    • Richard’s funeral was in church. There were a lot of readings and songs that we needed to pick for the service. My sister took on the music planning role for us. It was a relief to be able to just hand that off to her.
    • One of the services offered by the funeral home we used was making a montage of pictures of Richard. This was a chance to show everyone at the memorial service Richard’s life in pictures. We had to supply the funeral home with 30 – 35 images to use. Our daughter Sarah,Hannah and Shelby two of Richard’s closest cousins, and his girl friend Ivy sat in our TV room floor going through albums and boxes of pictures. They went though hundreds of pictures. While they sorted photos they also told a lot of “Richard stories”. As hard as it is to imagine, they helped us smile, as we remembered how much fun he’d been.
    • My siblings, nephew, and nieces showed up at our house with lawn mowers and other tools and went to work in our yard mowing grass. They also cut up some broken tree limbs from a recent storm. Truth is I didn’t care if the grass was knee high at that time. But they were doing anything they could just to let us know how much they cared about Richard and us. That will always mean a lot to us.

    Give Your Talent

    Putting your own talent and personality into your gift will help it stand out in someone’s memory.

    • Gifts of food are welcome in those confusing and busy days following the death of a child. We got many, both at home and at the funeral home for the memorial service. Visitors at the memorial service were our guests a food gifts helped us feed them and make them comfortable. Of all the gifts of food, only one stands out in my mind now. Susan from our church is an artist. Rather than go to the local store and get an off the self fruit tray, she bought a large basket. She filled the basket with a large assortment of fruit, all arranged in a very striking design. It was a work of art. It was almost too pretty to eat – but it went quickly as soon as the first piece of fruit was taken from the basket.
    • I don’t remember many details from Richard’s funeral Mass. In all the blur of pain and disbelief one thing made it past the fog. The choir sang the song “In His Time.” The service was on a Monday morning – a work day, yet there were more people in the choir section that we usually see on Sundays. The verses of the song were sung solo by Chris, a regular member of the choir and Susan, the wife of the choir director, not normally a part of the choir. Neither of these two had ever sung solo before. But they stepped out of their comfort zone to do something special for us. It was beautiful. Remembering this act of compassion still chokes me up today. Is there a talent you could share with someone grieving? Can you go beyond your normal limits to let someone know you care?

    Memorials

    Parents that have lost a child don’t want them forgotten. Memorial items are important.

    • As a birthday gift for her mom, our daughter Sarah made what we call “The Richard Book.” This is a beautiful hard cover book with glossy pages of various Bible verses, remembrances and pictures of Richard. The text of the sermon Father Bill gave at Richard’s funeral and a letter I wrote for his memorial service were printed there. She spent a lot of time and thought picking the content and arranging it. She had the book made at Shutterfly.com, an online photo printing company. I’m sure other online companies offer custom made books too.
    • A nice photo montage, printed and framed would also be a great item. We have a huge one that was made by Memory Lane Montages. They partnered with our funeral home and created a masterpiece montage in less than a day. We had to have a closed casket, so this was really helpful for us and let us show our visitors what our son was all about. You can order from their website, no funeral home needed.
    • My coworker Eric called me off to the side one day at the plant. He handed me a big white box. Inside was an ornate Celtic cross (pictured above) that he had cut on the scroll saw. It was mounted on a plaque. On the back was a copy of the remembrance card from the funeral and Richard’s picture. It is hanging on the wall beside the big photo montage we had made.
    • Several of my aunts and uncles got together and bought us a nice granite bench to place in the cemetery. It has the family name cut in the back. Richard’s grave is close to my mom’s grave. We also have plots there. The bench is under a tree next to our families graves. It’s a nice place to sit when visiting. I’ve sat there and had lunch with Richard. The name on the back is visible from the road, so it helps people find our family plots. It’s a gift that will last for generations.

    Other Ideas

    There are other things you can do that will mean a lot to a bereaved parent.

    • Richard was a member of our church youth group all through high school. Kids from the group got together their “Richard stories” and pictures from some of their times together and put them into a notebook for us.
    • Remember with them. The important life dates – birth date, death date – are really hard times for grieving parents. Can you remember these dates? Send a note letting the parents know you’re thinking about them. Maybe share something you remember about their kid. They’ll never forget their child, but it will give them comfort knowing you haven’t forgotten either and you still care. This website has ideas and suggestions on how to write a heartfelt card or note.
    • Give them a call from time to time, let them know you’re thinking about them.

    Grieving for a lost child is a very long and difficult journey. It will take years. Maybe the best help is to just be there to walk that path with them over time.

    You may feel nothing you say or do can help. There isn’t anything you can do to take away the pain. But you can make dealing with the pain a little less tough. Something as simple as a hug and genuine “I’m so sorry”, maybe a shared tear really do make a difference.

  • Let’s Just Get To The Bottom Of This Hill

    Let’s Just Get To The Bottom Of This Hill

    I read many blogs that deal with Internet Marketing.  I find the subject interesting. One of my favorites is a blog called Psychotactics by Sean D’Sousa.

    In his latest newsletter Sean wasn’t talking to grieving parents, but he could have been.

    Imagine thirty thousand menacing obstacles in your path to success.
    You’re dehydrated. Hungry as hell. And wobbling like an Irishman on
    too much Guinness. Your eyes hurt, your head throbs and your will
    is all but broken. You’re not even sure you want to go on.

    Isn’t that how you’ve felt?

    I’ve heard so many parents that have lost a child say they no longer want to go on… don’t want to live anymore. In those dark days after our kids died we just can’t see any way we can deal with it.

    As in the character Frodo, in the final episode of the ‘Lord of the
    Rings-The Return of the King.’

    Terror and dismay gleam from Frodo’s big, expressive blue eyes. In
    the distance, he can see his goal. But it seems to him like he’ll
    never get there. He turns to Sam and says in a defeated tone, “Sam,
    it’s the Eye,” referring to the eye of Sauron – the enemy he must
    destroy.

    And Sam turns to Frodo in a soft, encouraging voice and says,
    “Let’s just get to the bottom of this hill, Mr.Frodo.”

    And that’s how it is.

    Just get to the bottom of this hill. Just face this day. Take one step at a time.

    Slowly, ever so slowly, you get above the fog. The darkness lets in some light. The pain becomes less intense.

    The journey isn’t an easy one. The monsters and obstacles will always be there. Face them as they come. One at a time. Take the next step.

    Just get to the bottom of this hill.

  • The Blogroll From Hell

    The Blogroll From Hell

    I’ve built a lot of websites.

    One of the most important things for a website is links. It’s the life blood of the Internet. The search engines such as Google view links from other sites as votes for that site. The more links, the more votes, and the higher a site will be in the search results.

    So I’ve added an additional feature to the sidebar of this site. I call it the Blogroll From Hell. It has links to other sites. You’ll find it towards the bottom of the right-hand sidebar.

    Trust me, you don’t want a link there.

    Sites I link to in the Blogroll From Hell are blogs and websites of other grieving parents.

    There are only a few links now. As I become aware of other such sites I’ll add them in.

    I hope there are never any new ones to add.

  • Christmas Decorating at the Cemetery

    Christmas Decorating at the Cemetery

    This past weekend Debbie and I went to the cemetery with Christmas trees.

    Once again we took small, real trees. We plan to take them and plant them somewhere later. Hopefully we’ll retrieve them before they disappear this time.

    Richard's 2010 Christmas tree.
    Richard’s 2010 Christmas tree.

    Last year Debbie made strings of cranberries to put on the trees.

    Richard liked cranberries. Not that Jello looking stuff you plop out of a can, but the real deal. He and Debbie would cook up real cranberries in our big cast iron skillet. When he was young he liked to help stir the sugary berry mix and watch the cranberries pop. I think he was the only member of the family that really cared much for them – though the real thing was much better than the canned version. We had cranberries every Christmas because Richard wanted them.

    Debbie also thought the birds would like the fresh berries.

    Well the birds didn’t pay much attention to them, and Richard didn’t reach out and pluck any of them off the tree either. So this year she decided it wasn’t worth the work. She bought some strings of red beads and put them on the trees. There are also some small balls and ribbons.

    While we were there, we met another set of grieving parents, the Longs. Their son Michael Todd Long is one of Richard’s neighbors now. He died at the age of 15. That was about 13 years ago. They were there to decorate their son’s headstone.

    The Long's decorate the top of their son's stone.
    The Long’s decorate the top of their son’s stone.

    Like us, they have parents buried close by and will join their son there some day. She told me she wasn’t in any hurry to die, but she wasn’t afraid of it either, because she knew she’d get to she her son again when it happens.

    Exactly.

  • The Lost Christmas Eve

    The Lost Christmas Eve

    It may be a long night.

    I’m sitting here listening to the Trans-Siberian Orchestra album called “The Lost Christmas Eve.” I’m on the second repeat so far. There will probably be many more. When I get in these moods, I can listen to the same music over and over for hours.

    The lost Christmas Eve… the lost Christmas spirit. It’s now our life. Christmas has gone away.

    DO ANGELS KEEP THE DREAMS WE SEEK
    WHILE OUR HEARTS LIE BLEEDING?

    I remember Richard’s first Christmas. He was 4 months old. We put him on the floor in front of the Christmas tree. He would light up brighter than the bulbs on the tree, squeal with delight, and try with all his might to wriggle to that tree.

    As he was growing up he liked to crawl up under the tree, lie on his back and just lay there looking up through the branches at the lights.

    Richard always made sure the lights on the tree were plugged in. He wouldn’t let us vary much from our Christmas traditions and rituals. He loved it.

    AND THE TIME AND THE YEARS
    AND THE TEARS AND THE COST
    AND THE HOPES AND THE DREAMS
    OF EACH CHILD THAT IS LOST

    Last year we only turned on the lights a couple of times – when we put up the tree at Thanksgiving and again at Christmas.

    So far this year the tree is still in the box.

    SOMEWHERE IN THE DARK
    BEYOND ALL THE COLD
    THERE IS A CHILD
    THAT’S PART OF MY SOUL

    And now Christmas is lost. It’s buried in an oak box, under a couple of feet of earth. And I don’t know how to find it. And I sit in the wee hours of the morning riding the music, when I should be sleeping.

    THE LURE OF A DREAM
    AND I’M AFRAID TO WALK BACK THROUGH THAT DOOR
    TO FIND THAT I’VE AWAKENED

    I feel guilty because I can’t find Christmas. I still have a beautiful daughter. A great wife. A loving and supportive family. Friends that care.

    GOT TO GET BACK TO A REASON
    GOT TO GET BACK TO A REASON I ONCE KNEW

    And I know Richard has now reached the great promise of Christmas. That same promise tells us we’ll be with him again when the time is right.

    But that’s such a hard thought to hold onto.