“I was only 6-years-old when my father died of a heart attack,” remembers Tony, now 35. “Being so young, I couldn’t comprehend the idea of never seeing my dad again. I was an emotional basket case, and those feelings only got worse around the holidays—especially Father’s Day.”

…

“My father died a few weeks ago as a result of a tragic accident,” shares Meagan. “He was 55 years old and left behind my mom and my brother and I. When we were at my mother’s house after all of this happened, I remember her saying to herself, ‘What do we do about Father’s Day?’ Ever since I heard her say that, I’ve been wondering the same thing…what do we do?”

…

“When my husband died, nothing prepared my six children, or me, for the loss,” Says Marie. “Through a haze of grief I heard my children plead with me, ‘Stop crying, mama.’ But I couldn’t stop the tears. And my pain was made worse by seeing them suffer. I felt so inept as a mother. I wanted them to be children and not be faced with such worries and fears and pain. I wanted us to be a family again. Today we talk about my husband often. We laugh at inside jokes. We share memories…”

Go ahead and celebrate Father’s Day like you normally would. Your father/husband would want you to celebrate his life, not constantly mourn his death.

Sit together and talk about the good times you all shared with him—the times you laughed, the stories he told, the special things you did together…

Father’s Day is about fathers and what they do for their children and families. It’s a time to honor men that are fathers.

He would want you all to have happiness. A special day like this is really all about family and being together, spending the special day together and just celebrating and enjoying life.

You could do something special; maybe plant a tree in his memory…

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
Read an excerpt now
TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James

They stood against the kitchen counter, the little boy and his mom, talking. She was making sugar-cookie dough. He was picking out the cookie cutters and candies he would use. He had flour on his hair and nose…and on his furrowed brow.

“Remember the last time we did this?” he asked.

Yes, she did. It was around Christmas, and she’d had a million and one things to do and had been short-tempered. She had chastised him for standing too close to the edge of the chair (as he was doing now). The house had smelled of pinecone… and cinnamon and lemon from the spiced apple juice that was simmering on the stove beside them.

“It was Christmas,” he said intently looking in her face, “and Dad was alive.”

Her hands froze, rolling pin in mid air. The color drained from her face as she sucked in a breath.

“We made Santa cookies and Christmas tree cookies and angel cookies…Dad’s favorite with these green sprinkles…” he chatted excitedly.

She wanted to scream, but not at him…at herself for not being able to deal with ‘life before He died’, and ‘life after’.

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
Read an excerpt now
TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James

Time has taken me from you,
Although not very far.
I’ll be watching through the sunshine
And through the brightest star.

I’ll be watching all of you,
From the heavens up above.
So take good care of each other
And carry all my love.

If you’re ever wondering
If I’m there, here’s where you start.
Take a look inside yourself…
Look deep within your heart.

I’ll always be your sister,
Your child, or your best friend.
So anytime you need me,
Close your eyes I’m back again.

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
Read an excerpt now
TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James

“Happy Birthday” means much more
Than have a happy day.
Within these words lie lots of things
I never got to say.
It means “I love you” first of all,
Then “Thanks” for all you’ve done.
It means you mean a lot to me…
May peace be yours my chum.

But most of all, I guess it means
That I am thinking of
Your happiness on this, your day,
With peacefulness and love.

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
Read an excerpt now
TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James

Last Night

I stood by your bed last night; I came to have a peep.
I could see that you were crying you found it hard to sleep.
I whined to you softly as you brushed away a tear,
“It’s me, I haven’t left you, I’m well, I’m fine, I’m here.”
I was close to you at breakfast, I watched you pour the tea,
You were thinking of the many times, your hands reached down to me.
I was with you at the shops today; your arms were getting sore.
I longed to take your parcels, I wish I could do more.
I was with you at my grave today; you tend it with such care.
I want to re-assure you, that I’m not lying there.
I walked with you towards the house, as you fumbled for your key.
I gently put my paw on you; I smiled and said, “it’s me.”
You looked so very tired, and sank into a chair.
I tried so hard to let you know, that I was standing there.
It’s possible for me, to be so near you everyday.
To say to you with certainty, “I never went away.”
You sat there very quietly, then smiled, I think you knew…
in the stillness of that evening, I was very close to you.
The day is over… I smile and watch you yawning
and say “good-night, God bless, I’ll see you in the morning.”
And when the time is right for you to cross the brief divide,
I’ll rush across to greet you and we’ll stand, side by side.
I have so many things to show you, there is so much for you to see.
Be patient, live your journey out…then come home to be with me.

(Author unknown)

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
Read an excerpt now
TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James

I was 19 and living in Calgary when my mom phoned that July afternoon.

Her voice trembled then trailed off…my best friend, Chuckie, had just died of the cancer she had been fighting for over a year…she was just 18…a month after high school graduation.

I felt like I had stepped outside of myself as I screamed and begged for it not to be true. The rest of that summer was a blur as a painful reality set in.

Chuckie was a beautiful, free spirit—a combination of Avril Lavigne and Madonna—a true original. We were kindred spirits.

When I was told Chuckie had cancer, I didn’t know what to say or how to be. I stayed away that last year because I was scared and didn’t want to say something wrong. Before moving to Calgary that May, I stopped in to say goodbye. She saw beyond my awkwardness and understood why I hadn’t been around. Her forgiving nature was a trait that transcended her own pain.

…

I recall a dream I had a few years ago. I was at my mom’s house and someone knocked on the door. When I opened it, I found myself looking down but yet couldn’t explain why. I saw a person’s pair of shoes that were those floral sneakers without the laces, just like Chuckie wore. As my eyes went up, this person’s outfit changed, becoming more mature as I neared her face.

It was Chuckie.

Her hair was not wild and fun like I remember, but soft, curly, angelic. I was consumed with an overwhelming sense of calm. She smiled her knowing smile and then I woke up.

I was never visited by her before that time, and haven’t been since.

– Helen Bobbitt –

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
Read an excerpt now
TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James

Your sleep patterns often change when you grieve—While some people sleep more, most people will have trouble sleeping.

The day after first hearing my sister Cindy was missing, I made my first entry in my journal:

“I’m worried sick about Cindy and I had a hard time sleeping.”

Then when Cindy’s body was found (June 8, 1989) and I saw it on TV (before being notified from family about the discovery), I went into deep shock. I felt immobilized and wondered if this was all a bad dream. Despite offers from people to be with me, I slept at home by myself that night and cried most of it. I couldn’t seem to turn off my brain. It was impossible to sleep. My sleeping pattern had been disrupted and I wondered if I would now suffer from insomnia. The next night I cried again and by morning was exhausted.

And by the time I went to the funeral home to say goodbye to Cindy’s body, I wondered if I was dreaming—an experience I shared with my siblings. (We knew that what was happening was real, but it still did not feel real. It felt like we were a part of a really bad movie!) We went through the motions of living but it was like we were somebody else. What a funny feeling. We couldn’t remember sleeping, because it seemed we had no dreams. Was this the dream?

When you grieve, your mind tries to “work through” tough feelings and concerns so you may experience vivid dreams or nightmares.

It helps if you try to go to bed and get up at the same time every day and don’t use your bedroom for napping. Also, keep the room warm but not cold or hot.

And because the yearning for your loved one is so great, it isn’t uncommon to experience daydreaming and hallucinations.

I know people who have tried to contact the deceased.

And I know people who have experienced a “visit” from their loved one. In my next Blog I’ll share one story of such a visit…

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
Read an excerpt now
TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James

You are missed and you are so deeply loved.

We feel blessed for having had you with us for such a short time…you taught us much in your life and death.

Rest well.

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
Read an excerpt now
TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James

For five minutes at the beginning of your day, and five minutes toward the end, sit quietly in a quiet place. With eyes closed, imagine that a radiant light extends from your heart, outward to fill the room. Then imagine that the people in your life walk into the room one by one, then on their way into their own respective lives.

Throughout the day, whenever you are able, upon encountering another individual, stranger or not, silently and briefly bring awareness to your heart and imagine that its radiance extends outward to encompass them.

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
Read an excerpt now
TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James

Support groups are wonderful places to give and receive.

As a group member you feel less helpless when others understand the depth and complexities of what you are feeling. When you feel understood by others you knock down the barriers between yourself and the outside world. The experience of trusting and being trusted are fostered. As you support each other in listening to your own inner voices and expressions of confusion, anger, sadness and guilt, you come to know your own inner truths.

And you learn information about renewing your hope in the future.

Support groups are not a cure for grief but rather an opportunity for focusing on grief work—a safe place to mourn, with others walking alongside you.

There are many Internet grief support groups that offer tribute pages and poetry and links to resources, including websites for bereaved pet lovers, general grief, suicide, homicide/murder, death of a child, military, MADD, for adult children who have experienced death of a parent….

Good luck finding the support you seek.

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
Read an excerpt now
TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James