Tag: Books

There are certain truisms in life. One of them is that it goes against the natural order of things to bury one’s child. However, as bereaved mothers we can no longer believe in natural order. Our comfortable, secure lives, our innocence, all were shattered with the deaths of our children. Now our reality is upside down, inside out and far removed from what we thought it would be.
– Beyond Tears 

Nine Bereaved Moms Share Their Stories

Beyond Tears contains the stories of nine bereaved mothers. They have similar backgrounds, each losing a child that was a teen or young adult. They met at Compassionate Friends and became close. They have moved along their grief journey to a point of healing they share in this book.

They call people that have never experienced the loss of a child “civilians.” I thought that was sort of funny.

Like probably all of us that have found new friends because we’ve joined the Grieving Parents Club, they express this sentiment:

We are the closest of fiends. We share the deepest intimacies of our lives. We wish we had never met.

At the very least we wish we had met under different circumstances.

The ladies share their thoughts and experiences of losing their children. Chapters deal with the first year, finding help, redefining our existence, coping and dealing with all those special days – birthdays, holidays and anniversaries.

They also touch on a subject you don’t see much about in a chapter titled, “Intimacy.”

The anquish of losing a child pollutes every close relationship. It seeks to destroy our ties to our spouses, to our remaining children, to our parents, to cherished friends, to everyone close to us. Each tie is torn to shreds and brutally examined under a high-powered microscope before it can be pieced back together.

In some cases the pieces will never again mesh and the bond will break. Those relationships that survive will be forever changed because we are changed. We are never the same people we were before the death. The person we become has to learn anew to love and live with those we loved and lived with before, or perhaps to go a seperate way.

The death becomes a giant black hole in our midst.

The death of our children is so totally all consuming. “Civilians” as the ladies call them, don’t understand this, even though they try. They become impatient with us and we with them.

This book, like all the others on grieving I’ve read, illustrate how different we all are. What works for one grieving parent doesn’t for another. What happens quickly for one may take years for someone else.

This difference in grieving styles is a major stress factor between husband and wife.

The Ladies Share the Podium

This book is about the experiences of nine moms, and eight of the ten chapters are about their experiences.

But they let the dads have one chapter.

And yes, men are different than women. We’re not as public with feelings. But we have them. We can share them, but I know for me, it doesn’t come naturally.

I found a blog post by a fellow grieving dad once, where I and several other dads shared our thoughts with one another. We supported each other. But that only lasted for a short time, then we all just sort of faded away.

All that sharing takes a lot out of you. It requires energy. It’s also a constant reminder of the deep down sadness we feel. There are enough reminders of that.

Anyway, in chapter nine the dad’s get their say.

The last chapter is one I’m really glad to see. In chapter ten the “Siblings Speak.” The adult children left behind share their experience.

This is something I worry about. Our daughter Sarah lost her baby brother when we lost our son. In a way she also lost her parents, because our grief was so consuming.

She’s an amazing young woman and very detail oriented. We leaned on her a lot to get Richard’s funeral planned. I’m sure that wasn’t fair to her, but she didn’t complain.

I wonder how this has all been for her. We don’t talk about it. I’m not sure how to even bring it up, and I don’t think she would be real comfortable talking to me about it. But I worry about her.

I think Beyond Tears is worth reading. I found a lot of stories I can relate to. Through these stories I also learned there is hope. It will always be a struggle, but if we keep moving forward, just one step at a time, we will eventually find a life worth living – different yes, but a life still.

Beyond Tears: Living After Losing a Child, Revised Edition

 

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)

Dealing with the loss of a child is exhausting. After reading On Grief and Grieving by Elizabeth Kubler-Ross and David Kessler I understand why. Grieving is hard work.

I never knew there was so much to deal with.

First the authors outline five stages of grief:

• Denial
• Anger
• Bargaining
• Depression
• Acceptance

I think that last one is misnamed. I would call it Resignation. I may have to resign myself to the reality of Richard’s death, but I’ll never accept it. It’s unacceptable – I just can’t do anything about it.

Unfortunately this list isn’t a follow-the-dots pathway to healing. We are all different. We grieve differently. These are just general guidelines of what to expect.

Then there are what the book calls the “Inner World of Grief.” This section of the book goes through the many different things we grieve for when we lose someone. This shows why grieving is so hard – it’s just so complex.

The section on regrets hit home for me. There are the obvious regrets of not doing something to prevent Richard’s death. Of not seeing the signs. But there is also the regret of what will be missed.

I didn’t just love Richard, I also liked him. I enjoyed being around him. If I had been his peer instead of his parent, I’m certain we’d have been pals. I was looking forward to that time when our parent – child relationship could change to a friendship. That transformation had in fact already begun. I was looking forward to going to ballgames with him, and maybe doing a business venture with him.

That lost future is a big grieving area for me.

The book also covers the “Outer World of Grief.” About dealing with the rest of the world while we deal with the pain. About anniversaries, holidays, health changes and more.

The authors then cover some specific circumstances such as death and children, suicide, sudden death and others.

It’s a detailed look at grief. It covers a lot of ground and I’m sure many of the topics will bring you insight.

The biggest lesson I’ve taken from the book is to not look for the easy out. There isn’t one. We have to find our own path, and we’ll stumble and fall many times along the way. Our society doesn’t support grieving people very well. We all think a person should “be over it” in a few months. We won’t.

Reading this book could help you deal with that.