How to Help the Bereaved

     by Darcie Sims, Ph.D., CGC, CHT

   When someone you know is grieving the death of a loved one, you may feel helpless and not know what to say or how to help. There are many things that you can do to help ease the pain of grief. Here are a few things that will help the bereaved:

   Acknowledge the loss. Be supportive. Visit or call to say, “I care and want to help.” Say something (no RIGHT or WRONG words!)

     Use the deceased’s name. Be available. The bereaved need direct help…provide a meal, do errands, offer to baby-sit surviving children.

     Don’t minimize or depersonalize the loss. No one can know someone else feels. Do not compare or judge the loss or the reactions to it.

     Avoid clichés. Don’t minimize or depersonalize loss. Leave an invitation to talk.

   LISTEN. You do not have to talk except to say, “Tell me about your loved one.” Ask, but don’t pry. Don’t rush the grief process.  Be patient. Grief lasts far longer than anyone assumes! Share feelings, but DO NOT COMPARE losses. If you see/sense substance abuse or dependency, quietly offer support. Never use a SHOULD statement. Be responsive to the changes a grieving person experiences. Don’t make the bereaved the “office project” to cheer up. Some depression is an expected and necessary part of the journey.

  Break the ISOLATION by encouraging others to interact. Remember IMPORTANT DAYS (if known). Keep in check your impulse to GUIDE the process. BE THERE! It matters less what you say than that you say something! Your presence is the most healing gift you can give.  And continue to be there long after you think they should be “over it”. Grief takes a loooong time, and the gift of presence is timeless.

  DON’T TRY TO FIND SOMETHING POSITIVE IN THE LOSS. Don’t try to make sense of the death or find a reason. The bereaved must search for their own meanings in the death of someone they love.

  LOSS HURTS! WE ALL GRIEVE ALONE, BUT WE DO NOT HAVE TO BE ALONE AS WE GRIEVE. Help us remember our loved one. There is no such thing as "closure" when it comes to love. The only thing that closes at a funeral is the casket! You don't stop loving someone just because they died. Talk about the deceased, share your memories and let me share mine.

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     About the Author: Darcie D. Sims, Ph.D., CGC, CHT is the co-founder and president of Grief Inc., a grief management and consulting firm in Louisville, Kentucky. A bereaved parent and child, Darcie is an internationally known speaker and author of several books, including Why Are The Casseroles Always Tuna, If I Could Just See Hope, Footsteps Through the Valley and Touchstones. She presents workshops, keynotes and training programs all over the world on grief-related topics. She is known for her warmth, humor and compassionate understanding She can be contacted at Grief Inc. 9016 Taylorsville Rd. #181 Louisville, KY 40299 (502) 671-0535 or  (502) 671-0562 Fax Email at GriefInc@aol.com. Visit her website at www.GriefInc.com.

Children and the Holidays

Children are often able to separate their grief from the joy of the season. This does not mean they don't care, but that they may need to celebrate as a relief from their pain and sadness. Younger children may draw comfort from family traditions and may not want to change anything. Older children and adults may want to change everything because the memories are too painful. Children may need some extra attention at this time.

One suggestion for communicating with the members of your family are to ask some open-ended questions:

   The part I'm looking forward to the most is.....

   The part I'm not looking forward to at all is....

   To make the day still feel special to me this year, I think we should....

   This year, I don't want to...... or I still want to.....

Give each other choices. Everyone needs to be able to get involved in the activity, just sit back and watch from a distance or to go off alone.

Here's a suggestion for how you can help children. You may want to cut this out and post it on the refrigerator door for everyone:

     The Three T's

1) Touching. Tender touching says, I love you and I care. Everyone in your family needs to be touched and held. Children especially need to be hugged, held and cuddled. Strong arms feel secure when your world is falling apart. A three minute hug is a good idea.

2) Tears. Everyone needs to be able to cry and know it's OK. Your children need to know they don't have to be afraid of tears.

3) Talking. All of you need to talk. Listen to your kids. They'll have some big questions like: Did I do something to cause the death? Is this going to happen to me, or my Mom or Dad? Who is going to take care of me? Let them know they are not to blame, other people aren't likely to die and that there will always be someone to love and care for them.

Other suggestions:

        One family burns a special candle on all their special days to remember their absent child. One mother buys a poinsettia for her home as a living memorial to her son. If the thought of sending greeting cards is simply too painful when you know that some of your friends are still unaware of the death of your child, try this suggestion: enclose the funeral card inside the greeting card. People have found the response from friends is most helpful.

 If you or your family can't bear the idea of hanging a stocking, but find it equally difficult not to hang one, you might try hanging one and filling it with messages, special wishes or fresh flowers. You may want to take the stocking or the flowers to the cemetery later or press them in a keepsake book after the holiday.

Here are some suggestions if you or your family are finding it difficult to put up a tree or do any decorating: - try putting the tree, or decorations, up at different time than you usually do and letting the children, relatives, or friends decorate...invite friends over and decorate while you have cookies... buy a living tree and  plant it in your yard ... decorate small memorial trees for you children's bedrooms ...decorate a tree outdoors for the birds.

     Final thoughts:

 Don't forget that comforting discovery that many people have confirmed - the realization that when that special day arrives, it truly not as bad, by any means, as you had anticipated.

Our wish for you is that you find yourself facing the holidays without a sense of helplessness, but with a measure of hopefulness for the new year ahead.

Please know that we are thinking of you at this time of year - call us if you have any questions or concerns, or just need to talk.  HelpPhone Numbers: Art & Carol Ehde 507-283-9747, Denis & Sandy Lepkowski 605-373-9175,

Tom & Gloria Faber 605-334-4106, Jo & Darwin Winkowitsch 605-582-8615

Getting Through the Holidays

A Bereaved Parents Holiday Wish List

1. I wish my child hadn't died. I wish I had him back.

2. I wish you wouldn't be afraid to speak my child's name. My child lived and was very important to me. I need to hear that he was important to you also.

3. If I cry and get emotional when you talk about my child I wish you knew that it isn't because you have hurt me. My child's death is the cause of my tears. You have talked about my child, and you have allowed me to share my grief. I thank you for both.

4. I wish you wouldn't "kill" my child again by removing his pictures, artwork, or other remembrances from your home.

5. Being a bereaved parent is not contagious, so I wish you wouldn't shy away  from me. I need you now more than ever.

6. I need diversions, so I do want to hear about you; but, I also want you to hear  about me. I might be sad and I might cry, but I wish you would let me talk about my child, my favorite topic of the day.

7. I know that you think of and pray for me often. I also know that my child's death pains you, too. I wish you would let me know those things through a phone call, a card or note, or a real big hug.

8. I wish you wouldn't expect my grief to be over in six months. These first months are traumatic for me, but I wish you could understand that my grief will never be over. I will suffer the death of my child until the day I die.

9. I am working very hard in my recovery, but I wish you could understand that I will never fully recover. I will always miss my child, and I will always grieve that he is dead.

10. I wish you wouldn't expect me "not to think about it" or to "be happy." Neither will happen for a very long time, so don't frustrate yourself.

11. I don't want to have a "pity party," but I do wish you would let me grieve. I must hurt before I can heal.

12. I wish you understood how my life has shattered. I know it is miserable for you to be around me when I'm feeling    miserable. Please be as patient with me as I am with you.

13. When I say "I'm doing okay," I wish you could understand that I don't "feel" okay and that I struggle daily.

14. I wish you knew that all of the grief reactions I'm having are very normal. Depression, anger, hopelessness and overwhelming sadness are all to be expected. So please excuse me when I'm quiet and withdrawn or irritable and cranky.

15. Your advice to "take one day at a time" is excellent advice. However, a day is too much and too fast for me right now. I wish you could understand that I'm doing good to handle an hour at a time.

16. Please excuse me if I seem rude, certainly not my intent. Sometimes the world around me goes too fast and I need to get off. When I walk away, I wish you would let me find a quiet place to spend time alone.

17. I wish you understood that grief changes people. When my child died, a big part of me died with him. I am not the same person I was before my child died, and I will never be that person again.

18. I wish very much that you could understand; understand my loss and my grief, my silence and my tears, my void and my pain. BUT I pray daily that you will never understand.

     This was adapted it from a newsletter from the Candlelighters Childhood

     Cancer Foundation-Fall, 1988 as well as the books referenced by Therese

     Rando and Missy Lowery. It was put together by the Staff on 3B and in the

Oncology Clinic November 1999 - British Columbia Children's Hospital.

Ways to thaw, Survive and Find Hope

By Darcie D. Sims, P. D.

·         Brush your teeth, every morning. No matter what else happens, do that and you are on your way. Just keeping a routine is a way to counteract the craziness. It is a “responsible, adult” thing to do and is a start. Just do it. Your dentist, mother and everyone you encounter will be glad you did.

• Take out the trash. Just get it out of the house. Someday you can try getting it out on the right day.
• Be realistic. It will hurt, but don’t try to block bad moments. Be ready for them. Let those hurting moments come, deal with them and let them go.
• Take care of yourself physically. Eat right. Exercise (or at least watch someone else). If nothing else, jog your memory.
• Leave the word “ought” out of this holiday season. Work at lifting depression. Take responsibility for yourself. We cannot wait for someone else to wrap up some joy and give it to us. We have to do that for ourselves. Think of things you enjoy and give yourself a treat occasionally.
• By a gift. Buy a gift for yourself. Wrap it, but don’t hide it! Just when you think you are going “off the deep end”, open it up and enjoy. While you are buying a gift for yourself, buy one for your loved one as well. Wrap it up and give it away to someone who might not otherwise have a gift. Pass on the love you shared together and it can never die.
• Breathe. In and out, in and out. It’s that simple and that hard. Some days just breathing is all you can manage. Other days it’s a bit easier, so relax and enjoy those moments when you can remember your loved one’s life instead of focusing only on the death.
• Hang the stockings; place a wreath on the grave. Do whatever feels right for you and your family.
• Make a snow angel. Get outside. Catch snowflakes. Build a sand castle. Take a memory walk.
• Put something that reminds you of your loved one in your pocket and every time you need a hug, just pat your pocket and recall the loving connection between you. I carry a rock with me always, to remind me of the steadiness, security and sturdiness of his love. I’ve carved the word HOPE on that rock so I won’t forget what hope is all about.  Hope isn’t a place or a thing. Hope isn’t the absence of pain, or sadness or sorrow.  Hope is possibility. Hope is the memory of love given and received.

Surviving really isn’t too hard. Living can be. No matter how crazy the world or out of “snyc” you feel, don’t lose the treasure of your loved one’s presence in your life. You don’t have to say good-bye. You don’t stop loving someone just because he died.

Claim your grief and your unique way of surviving. Do whatever it takes to remember the life of your loved one, not just the death.

Each footprint is unique, each hurt is different, and each snowflake the only one ever created. Your love is real, just as is your pain. But leave the regrets behind in the slush. Bring the joy of loving with you into this holiday season. Let its memory light your world. Our loved ones died, but we did not lose them.

Time and space become meaningless for us. The bonds between us are too strong to let death sever the ties. So light a candle and whisper a thank you for the moments you traveled together. Our arms may be empty, but the heart is full. And every time you see a snowflake or just imagine one, remember to cherish its unique design and pattern… and to cherish your unique footprint through grief.