From our March 2002 newsletter...
shared by Vickie Elsesser-Vu, LCSW-C
TCF, St. Mary’s County, MD Chapter
Having read Harold Kushner's book "When Bad Things Happen to Good People", in an effort to cope with the sudden death of our two year old daughter, Emilie, I was determined to have good come out of losing her. Since I was already a licensed professional counselor, the idea of a certification in trauma appealed to me since I was a survivor of trauma myself. In 1997, I became a Certified Trauma Specialist, CTS.
So it was, that after the 9-11 tragedy, I found myself well equipped to respond to the call for mental health workers to provide mental health counseling to the WTC families and victims in the New York and New Jersey areas. I felt so proud to be able to serve my country by joining the Red Cross volunteer teams to provide mental health counseling. Who better than me, with professional and personal loss experiences, to intervene with the mothers, fathers, sisters and brothers who lost a family member, to provide that compassionate hug? to give them hope that that can live through the most horrific emotional pain imaginable? to provide a reality check that most others can only imagine?
For each encounter, it felt like a surge of power and love, and in my heart, I knew it was my own little angel, Emilie Vu, reaching out. She enabled me to have the courage, and strength and the professional knowledge to assist these victims in their time of fresh grief. It is her memory that bears witness to the healing and transformation which can follow the grief journey.
I believe the world will be a better place after the tragedy at the WTC. Just imagine this example multiplied thousands of times. How will you respond to your own traumas?
From our December 2001, holiday edition newsletter...
shared by Shirley Paoule
Charles County Hospice
Bereavement Coordinator
Holidays can create feelings of dread and anxiety in those who are bereaved. The clichéd images of family togetherness and the often unrealistic expectations of a season filled with picture perfect, playful gatherings can cause tremendous stress for those who are not grieving - let alone those in the midst of the painful, isolating experience of loss. How does one celebrate the holidays when a loved one is so sorely missed? Creating new rituals and new traditions that pay tribute to the memory of the deceased is one way to survive, and perhaps even embrace, the holidays when a loved one has died. Here are some suggestions of what you can do.
* Decorate a wreath with pictures and items that were loved by the person who died and place the wreath at his or her grave.
* Wrap a favorite keepsake of the deceased of a framed picture of your loved one, and give it as a gift to another grieving family member.
* Tell the stories behind the ornaments on the Christmas tree and the role your loved one played in making those memories. Create a special ornament labeled with the name of the deceased and hang it on the tree.
* Decorate a candle and light it at meal time in memory of your loved one. If you celebrate Chanukah, recall a memory of the deceased on each of the eight nights that you light the Menorah.
* Make a book of pictures and memorabilia about the deceased to give or simply to share with one another This is a good activity for children as well.
* Make a donation to a favorite charity in the persons honor. Create a scholarship to keep the memory of the deceased alive and announce it at a holiday gathering of family and friends.
* Purchase a holiday book - perhaps a favorite of the deceased - and donate it to your local library or school. Ask your librarian to place a label in the front cover inscribed, "In memory of (your loved one's name)."
* Bring your loved one's favorite food to share at a holiday dinner. Mention their name in the blessing over the food propose a toast to their memory.
* Share anecdotes and favorite stories about the person who died. Sometimes others need permission to talk about the deceased. Let them know you would rather keep the memory of your loved one alive than pretend nothing has changed.
* Encourage grieving children to draw pictures and create gifts inspired by their memories of the deceased to give to other family members.
* Decorate and hang a cut-out star in your home with your hopes and dreams for the future. Thinking about tomorrow is part of your healing.
Then once you've remembered your loved one, make sure you remember yourself Take care of yourself Be gentle. Do what you can do - no more and no less.
If it's too hard to be in the same place where you spent holidays together with your loved me, opt for a change of scene and go somewhere new. If you can't afford a vacation, go to a restaurant - or a friend or family member's home that doesn't have painful associations with previous holidays. Although you can't erase thoughts and memories of the deceased, it may help to create a new holiday experience.
From our May 2001, Special Mother's Day edition newsletter...
by Carletta Ashby
It was Sunday, July 23rd, just a few weeks before Jason's 28th birthday and the 5th anniversary of his death. It was a lazy Sunday for me. Jim was working outside in the garage and I was dozing in my chair in front of the TV. I heard him come in and start clicking away on the computer. I tried to wake myself up, but I couldn't. It was one of those really strange sleeps. I knew I was sleeping, but I could hear the TV and I could hear the clicking. My whole body felt extremely heavy and I couldn't seem to move.
All of a sudden, Jason was standing in front of me. He was about 8 years old and I could see him very plain. I could still hear the TV and the clicking. He climbed into my lap and I could feel the weight of him sitting there. I put my arms around him and hugged him close to me. I could feel my arms around him, holding him. Then he was gone. I wanted to go back, to have him still sitting there in my lap but I couldn't bring him back.
I finally got my eyelids to open and I could see Jim sitting by the computer, clicking away. I thought about my "dream" and it gave me such a sense of peace. It may have been wishful thinking but my arms could still feel him as I hugged him and I remembered how badly my arms ached for months after he died. There was nothing wrong with them physically, they just ached and I decided they literally ached to hold him again. I thought about telling Jim about my dream, but I selfishly wanted to hold it to myself just a little while longer.
When Jason died, I believed he would somehow contact me. I knew early on that he was sending me butterflies when I needed a little pick-me-up. They would appear in some form or another and give me an excuse to smile. On special occasions, there always seemed to be a black butterfly close by. I felt so connected to him when he was alive that I was sure I would have one of those amazing experiences that left no doubt he was there with me. I've always believed the spirit never dies. One of his friends had a dream about him the night before the viewing that left her feeling he was well and happy. My husband and daughter had dreams that left them with a sense of peace and they had more dreams than I did. It made me angry and jealous. I wanted that sense of peace that my son was okay. Instead, my dreams, which were few, always ended with me asking him if he knew he was dead. It seemed like a cruel irony that his mother should have to remind him of that fact. This dream was very special and finally left me with that feeling that he is truly near so I tucked it into my memory.
About a week after I had the dream, I finally told my husband about it, but no one else. I'm always afraid people who have not experienced the death of a child will not understand how I grasp at these straws in my present life. The Monday before Jason's birthday, our daughter called to tell us she was pregnant. This news was long awaited and the best news we had received in a very long time. As soon as she told me, I told her about my dream and I wondered out loud if Jason had come to say, "I know something you don't know." More grasping and wishful thinking? Could be. So what? I figure, anything that keeps us connected with him is a gift and you shouldn't look a gift-horse in the mouth.
From our Autumn 2000 newsletter...
by Lorie Hartsig
When Junior, the National Zoo's resident ape went on his escape travels a few months ago, the story was recorded in the local papers. This was probably because he came close to hopping over his barrier and into the laps of his human observers, many of them children. The press called this "uncharacteristic behavior" and, in a side note, added that his long time mate, Pensy had recently died.
Now you and I would put all of this into proper perspective and agree, "Of course!" And then we would reflect upon our own "uncharacteristic behaviors" following the death of our beloved (grand) child (ren).
Many times these behaviors confound and confuse those close to us. How far will we go beyond our barriers? And will we return and be "ourselves" again? I was amazed at emotions I had never felt so strongly before. I thought that anger would become a permanent part of my reactions and I welcomed any kind of release from it. Confronting it and dealing with it was difficult. Sadness settled upon me like a soggy fleece and I thought that I might never shrug it off! And the apathy with which I met each day was very concerning, indeed! Junior's escapade brought all of my own "uncharacteristic behaviors" up from the not so distant past. Amusing?....a little; but more than that I wanted to shout with the children who watched him that late summer day, and encourage him to run and run, shaking off the grief and sadness of losing his beloved Pensy.
To receive a full newsletter by mail: email jhartsig@olg.com or write to TCF of St. Mary's County, P.O. Box 350, Charlotte Hall, Maryland 20622. Copyright
© 2000
Last updated November 28, 2001
by James B. Hartsig, jhartsig@olg.com