Grieving Parent

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  • Review: life after the death of my son: what I’m learning – by Dennis Apple

    Review: life after the death of my son: what I’m learning – by Dennis Apple

    Several months before his death, Richard was home for the weekend and he was looking at one of my bookcases. On one shelf he spotted a stack of books about seizures and epilepsy.

    He looked at them and asked me, “Why do you have all these?”

    “Because you have that little time bomb in your head, and I thought we should find out about it. Maybe find something that can help.” I told him.

    He just sighed and shook his head at me.

    That’s just how I am. If something interests me, or bothers me, I try to learn as much as I can about it. I buy a lot of books.

    So it should be no surprise I have a large and growing collection of books about grieving and the loss of a child.

    I just finished Dennis Apple’s life after the death of my son: what i’m learning.

    I read this book faster than any other grieving book I’ve owned… except for Good Grief, which is so small it hardly counts.

    Dennis and Buelah Apple’s son Denny died on this day in 1991. I guess this review is my tribute on the 20 year anniversary of his death.

    Dennis Apple kept journals of his experiences after the death of his son. A lot of journals. In this book he shares what he went through in those early years and expands on the lessons learned. He deals candidly with it all… from the pain, the marriage issues, and his doubts about God and religion to finding his way toward healing.

    This is Super Bowl Sunday so one of the comparisons he makes is appropriate on this day. He equates learning to deal with our grief to great athletes learning to play with pain. Play with pain. I really think that’s the goal now. I think it will always be there, so we have to learn to live with it.

    Another part of his story that really hit home for me are the issues of faith. Mr. Apple is a minister and on the pastoral staff at College Church of the Nazarene in Olathe, Kansas. His son’s death made him question God. This had to be really hard for him, as religious life was such a big part of his very core.

    There are so many feel good stories in the readings and songs at church. They tell us about how God is looking over us. That he cares for us. We’re taught that if we follow him to our best ability, he’ll be looking out for us. God has our back.

    Then our kid dies. Denny Apple sounds like he was a great kid. My son Richard wasn’t a saint, but he was a good kid and a fine young man. I was very proud of him. So how could God let something so horrible happen to such good kids?

    In all my years attending Catholic schools I was told God is up there and is all seeing and knowing. He controls everything and has a reason for everything he does. I don’t believe this anymore.

    I still believe there’s a God. I just don’t think God is watching and controlling everything that happens on earth. If he was, how could such pain be allowed?

    I’ve told people that God has a lot of explaining to do. I still feel that way.

    Mr. Apple had to deal with these same doubts at the same time as he was trying to be a minister leading others to God on a daily basis. The conflicts inside had to be overpowering.

    But he made it through all that.

    His story gives us hope. The enormity of the struggles he faced are clearly told, yet he came through it with his soul intact. Like all grieving parents he will never “get over” the loss of his son. He’s just learned to play with pain and he shows there’s hope we can too.

    I highly recommend this book.

    Life After the Death of My Son: What I’m Learning (my Amazon affiliate link)

  • Legacy Memorial Websites

    Legacy Memorial Websites

    The Compassionate Friends has partnered with the people at Legacy.com to bring you a special deal on a memorial website for your lost child. You can get a 14 day free trial to try their system and you will also get a 25% discount on your first year sponsorship. That’s what they call their hosting fee.

    Here’s What You Can Do With These Tribute Sites

    • Customize the design, yet create the site in 5 minutes using Legacy.com.’s 4-step process
    • Include photos, videos, stories, and more
    • Add music
    • Invite family and friends to contribute and join in celebrating the life of a child
    • And much more

    Keep Your Child’s Memory Alive

    I think all of us traveling this grieving parent pathway want to keep our child’s memory. These memorial websites are a simple way to do that and they let you share these memories with others, and let them share their memories with you.

    I haven’t tried one of these because I already pay for this one. It looks like a nice system, and the price is pretty fair.

    Get Your FREE Trial and Discount

    To get this deal you should go to the page on The Compassionate Friends website. When you purchase a memorial site from that link TCF will get a share of the price to support their programs.

  • Good Grief by Granger Westberg

    Good Grief by Granger Westberg

    This little 64 page book is the first book about grief I added to my library.

    Joanne, wife of Deacon John Shoulta from our church handed it to me at the funeral home during the visitation. It’s so small it fit in the inside pocket of my suit jacket.

    I think I read it that night. The pages are small, so it only took about an hour.

    This little book and I got off to a bit of a rocky start. In the introduction the author starts talking about grieving over stuff like having the boss you love be replaced by one you don’t like.

    Or grieving over moving away to a new place and leaving friends behind. My kid is in a box and you’re worried about having to make new friends?

    Is that why it’s called Good Grief – because that’s what people say when they read it?

    OK I’ll be fair. The author wasn’t equating moving to a new neighborhood to having your child die. He is just pointing out we deal with grief in some form often. Much more than we realize – it’s “as natural as breathing”. Westberg says dealing with these little griefs points us in the way we’ll deal with a big one.

    Like a lot of books dealing with grief this one lists stages of grief –  ten of them in this case:

    1. We are in a state of shock.
    2. We express emotion.
    3. We feel depressed and very lonely.
    4. We may experience physical symptoms of distress.
    5. We may become panicky.
    6. We feel a sense of guilt about the loss.
    7. We are filled with anger and resentment.
    8. We resist returning.
    9. Gradually hope comes through.
    10. We struggle to affirm reality.

    The author goes on to cover each in a separate chapter.

    I don’t think I’ve ever felt lonely. Just the opposite. I usually just want to be by myself – and can’t get people to leave me alone. This is especially true at work. Just way too much “teamwork” and too many meetings there.

    I also don’t remember ever feeling panicky. Richard is dead. It’s much too late to panic now. I just feel sad.

    So all these stages don’t apply to everyone. We’re all different. But it all still fits. And it was helpful to read at least a framework for what was ahead for us.

    This may have been one of the best choices to read in those fog shrouded early days. I don’t think I could have made it through a long detailed book. I needed to know about the grief we were now forced to live. I was determined to live this grief, not hide from it. Good Grief was a valuable primer on the subject. You just have to keep an open mind on what grief is.

    Amazon Link

    Good Grief: A Constructive Approach to the Problem of Loss

  • Time to Amend FMLA

    Time to Amend FMLA

    How long do you need off work after your child dies?

    I’m sure this is different for everyone. Grieving is like that. But I’m also sure the 2 or 3 days many employers allow isn’t near enough.

    A Plan For Change

    Kelly Farley of The Grieving Dads Project just sent out this email:

    Dear Friends of the Grieving Dads Project:

    I hope this email finds you well.  I wanted to make you aware of a petition I recently started with a fellow grieving dad.  The petition is called “The Farley-Kluger Amendment to the Family Medical Leave Act of 1993 (FMLA)” .  We started this petition to bring attention to the current FMLA and the fact that it does not extend benefits to employees that have experienced the death of a child.

    I am sure most of you would agree that the death of a child is one of the worst possible experiences that anyone can endure.  However, many employers only allow for bereavement leave up to 2-3 days.  Employees are expected to use their available vacation time after the 2-3 days of bereavement leave has been expended.  If the employee exhausts both of these benefits and still requires additional time off,  the employer has grounds to terminate the employee.

    We find it unacceptable that the death of a child is not included as a protected reason to qualify for 12 weeks of unpaid leave as part of the FMLA.  If you agree with us and you live in the US, we ask you to do two things:  1) Click on the link below (or paste into your browser) and sign the e-petition and 2) Share this link with people you know in the US.

    http://www.petition2congress.com/3937/modify-family-medical-leave-act-1993/

    Let’s see if we can get someone’s attention regarding this issue.

    Peace.

    Kelly Farley (A Bereaved Father)

    Kelly has teamed up with Barry Kluger to sponsor this amendment.

    The Petition

    I’m starting to like this copy and paste thing, so here is the text of the petition:

    I, the undersigned, support The Farley-Kluger Amendment to the Family Medical Leave Act of 1993 (FMLA). This amendment will expand coverage and existing benefits to employees that have experienced the death of a child.

    I have included the following to give you a brief overview of the existing Family Medical Leave Act and its benefits:

    The FMLA applies to all public agencies, all public and private elementary and secondary schools, and companies with 50 or more employees. These employers must provide an eligible employee with up to 12 weeks of unpaid leave each year for any of the following reasons:

     for the birth and care of a newborn child;
     for placement with the employee of a child for adoption or foster care;
     to care for an immediate family member with a serious health condition;
     to take medical leave because of a serious health condition; or
     to care for an injured service member in the family

    Employees are eligible for leave if they have worked for their employer at least 12 months, at least 1,250 hours over the past 12 months, and work at a location where the company employs 50 or more employees within 75 miles.

    It is my opinion that the death of a child is one of the worst experiences that anyone can endure. I find it unacceptable that the death of a child is not included as a protected reason to qualify for the benefits that are set forth in the Family Medical Leave Act of 1993.

    As your constituent, I encourage you to give this issue serious consideration and to make the necessary modification to the Family Medical Leave Act of 1993.

    I support Kelly Farley, Founder of the Grieving Dads Project and Barry Kluger, Author and grieving father in their efforts to make this necessary change to the Family Medical Leave Act of 1993.

    Sincerely,

    Please Sign This Petition

    I think dealing with your child leaving the world is tougher than dealing with bringing them into the world. It should be covered by FMLA.

    Again, here is the link to sign the petition:

    http://www.petition2congress.com/3937/modify-family-medical-leave-act-1993/

  • How to Summit Grieving’s Everyday Mountains

    How to Summit Grieving’s Everyday Mountains

    The blog Zen Habits is one of the most popular on the Internet. The following post is an adaptation of a post called A Guide to Reaching Life’s Summits. I thought many of the points and tips in the Zen Habits post apply to the grieving parent’s journey up the mountain of pain we all face each day. The italicized block quotes are from the Zen Habits article, and my grieving parent version is below it.

    Pack light.

    I wish I took this more seriously. Every unnecessary piece of gear complicates things and detracts from the experience. Aside from the bare necessities, things do not make life better. They often cause more stress and keep you from what’s most important. The lighter your pack the better. Life is too short to be burdened with excessive possessions, emotional baggage or regrets. Positive thoughts, relationships and experiences weigh nothing at all. Pile them on and leave the rest behind. They’ll lift you to the top.

    Grieving parents are left with emotional bags to carry on their journey up the grief mountain. So many “should have done this – if only I’d have done that” kind of questions we have. Why did this happen and why didn’t we see it coming and stop it? These emotions don’t help. They create stress. You have to let them go. The truth is we don’t control this life on earth. The ultimate outcome is not in your hands. You have to forgive yourself before you can heal. Lighten up.

    Take one step at a time.

    Any major accomplishment can be broken down into a series of single steps. My pattern for the mountain was 15 steps up, 15 breaths of rest. I did that for 7 hours. If I would have only focused on the very top, frustration would have overcome me. If your summit is too intimidating, break it into smaller steps. Focus on those one by one. Eventually one step will be the one that puts you on top.

    In our computer-based rush around world, we expect results to happen fast – often in just an instant. This is not a trip to the corner store. It’s a journey. A long arduous climb up a mountain. It will take years, and we’ll probably never get to the top of the mountain. Give yourself permission to grieve, to be sad, to accept life has changed and can’t be changed back. One day at a time. One hour at a time.

    Don’t go at it alone.

    When climbing, a partner is a must. For safety, support, camaraderie, motivation and simply to share the journey. You’d be silly (and putting yourself in great danger) to go up alone. Life is meant to be experienced with others. It makes the valleys shallower and the peaks higher. Relationships magnify experiences and help you do things that prove impossible alone. Don’t leave home without your support team.

    Find some help. You need someone to talk to. We’ve found The Compassionate Friends to be a great resource. TCF is made up of other bereaved parents. They’re on the same journey. Some of them have been climbing this mountain for decades. Others are just starting out. They know how you feel and what you’re going through.  Hospice is another good organization that helps the grieving parent. Maybe you have a good church and can get help there. Maybe you need one-on-one care and need to find a professional. Just don’t try to go it alone.

    Listen to the experts.

    Halfway up, a passing guide told us if we couldn’t get to the top by 12:30 at the latest, then to turn back. Chances of late day thunderstorms were too great. As amateurs we would have had no idea. While we all ought to experience our own paths, it’s foolish not to learn from and observe the guidance of experts. Choose your life models wisely and keep them close by on your journey.

    Once again TCF is a good resource. There are also many helpful books.

    Slow down.

    As Yvon Chouinard of Patagonia says, “It’s about how you got there. Not what you’ve accomplished.” Despite what colleagues and competitors may tell you, there is no rush. Rushing on the mountain risks slipping, not acclimating to thinning air, exhaustion and possibly death. In life the biggest risk is that you miss the wonders of everyday experiences in your pursuit to the top. The top is secondary to the process.

    The grieving parents world is a swirling fog of confusion and pain. Slow down. Breath. Take time for quite time. Time to just think and center yourself. A time to find yourself again. This is a marathon not a 40 yard dash. Slow and steady is the best pace.

    Look back and take in the view.

    There’s never any guarantee that you’ll get to the top, but you always have the ability to stop, take in a deep breath, smile and enjoy the view-whether it’s miles of wilderness or two feet of fog. It’s all wonderful. Every moment of life is a new view to appreciate.

    It helps to look back. Remember when the pain was so fresh and new? How you couldn’t get through a day without crying several times? – maybe constantly? Remember how you couldn’t laugh anymore? Then gradually the tears fell less and laughter came back. Maybe you felt guilty. But life does come back. It’s different now, and not better. But gradually it gets better. Look back occasionally and notice.

    Save some energy for the trip down.

    We thought the summit was “just over that peak” half a dozen times before it actually was. Conserve energy. Things will inevitably take longer than expected. Don’t be discouraged. Budget your capital, energy and drive appropriately. Rarely is anything in life an all out sprint. Treat it like a marathon. You may need your reserves when you least expect it.

    It’s said, “A man must know his limits.” Grieving parents have to know their limits too. We all grieve differently. You have to find your way through this.

    Maybe big family gatherings are too much for you at first. Skip a few. Maybe you no longer feel like doing all the Christmas decorating that you did when your child was still here. So don’t do it. Some people we know take trips at Christmas now.

    You won’t “get over it” but you will learn to cope. Just remember you can’t do it all at once. Give yourself time. Take small steps.

    Getting to the top is optional. Getting down is mandatory.

    These are Ed Viesturs’ famous words; the first U.S. man to summit all 14 peaks above 8,000 meters with no bottled oxygen. The summit will be there tomorrow and likely so will yours. If more planning, a stronger team or more support is required, then save the summit for a time when the payout is safer and more probable. If you are outmatched, know when to turn back, only to return stronger and more savvy tomorrow. Stay objective and don’t let short-term excitement get in the way of long-term fulfillment.

    Failure is a part of the process.

    If we would have started our climb the week before, conditions would have been too grave to make it. Be ok with not reaching the summit every time. Falling short is inevitable. You will never learn more than from your failures…at anything. Embrace them.

    A daunting summit is nothing more than a challenge. A challenge is simply an opportunity in disguise. You won’t summit every one you come across, but you will become a better person with each attempt.

    There will always be another mountain. You are not meant to conquer them all. Past summits are simply preparing you for the next. With the right strategy, you’ll put the top within reach. When your summit arrives, you will be ready.

    “It is not the mountains we conquer but ourselves.” ~Sir Edmund Hillary

    Grieving isn’t pretty. There will be good days and bad. Lot’s of bad days. Feeling OK one day and completely down the next doesn’t mean you’ve failed. It’s OK to be sad, to miss your kid so bad you don’t think you can go on. You can go on. Live through the bad times, remember the good ones and keep taking one step forward.

    Original article:
    http://zenhabits.net/summit-mountains/