People often say that they could never cope with the death of a child—but they can!

Grieving for a child (whether an infant, teenager or an adult) is severe, complicated and long lasting (it often lasts for years and leaves the grievers fearing for their sanity—some people never reach the closure stage as in other grief circumstances).

It places extra stress on the relationship between the surviving parents and often leads to divorce.

I remember after my sister, Cindy, died, there was a time when my parents drew so far apart that they stopped communicating with one another (perhaps they were angry that the other hadn’t done more to help Cindy or they were annoyed that the other was not at the same place in grief to offer assistance to the other). They painstakingly avoided each other and when they did have to talk with one another it was with anger, negativity and annoyance. I found it hard to see them act this way so I tried to help them cope with their tremendous loss and pain and bring them closer together.

I asked both of them to join me in Cindy’s room (we were staying at Cindy’s house and our family had barely started making arrangements for her funeral, etc). While Mom sat on the edge of Cindy’s king-sized bed, Dad sat in Cindy’s wicker chair. I asked them each to face the other and take the other persons hands in their own. They complied. Then I asked them to look in each other’s eyes. That opened a floodgate of emotions that I think they just hadn’t wanted to see in the other. I prompted them to take turns talking to each other and take turns really listening to each other. After mediating for a few minutes, I quietly slipped away and softly closed the door behind me. They talked with one another for a long time and afterwards expressed to me their thanks.

Their individual grieving styles had initially made it difficult for them to support one another. As they experienced the long, hard road of grief, I watched them weave in and out of communication, vacillating between avoidance and immersion (see my previous Blog) at any given time.

But I do recall one particular moment when they were united:

It was a warm and sunny day when my family and I walked through the memorial gardens in Surrey, B.C., in search of what would become Cindy’s final resting place. It had to have a nice view and be near trees. It seemed we searched forever for the perfect spot we could all agree on. The process was very tiring for Mom, and I watched as Dad put his arm around her and led her away in privacy to comfort her. I have never forgotten that beautiful sight of them supporting each other in such a loving way and walking together and searching.

Today my father tells me, “I still can’t shake it—I’m not going to get rid of the feeling of loss [Cindy’s death].” – Yes, a bereaved parent can have an ongoing bond with their deceased “child”.

Mom remembers nothing—she has Alzheimer’s—and Dad lovingly cares for her as best he knows and can. Both are in their eighties and have been married for over 65 years and it warms my heart to see and hear Dad talk and act lovingly towards my mother (life has not been easy between them).

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My Friend
Read an excerpt now
The unsolved mystery of the death of Cindy James

If you are a couple grieving the death of your child, know that couples often have opposite grieving styles (a person’s style usually operates somewhere between avoidance and immersion):

·If one is immersed in work, the other is disorganized

·If one avoids things that trigger memories, the other dwells on them

·If one talks about their feelings, the other shows no feelings at all, and

·If one struggles to find meaning in what has happened, the other is disinterested or has a stock answer.

Even as you and your partner change styles during your grieving, this pattern of being opposite often sticks and can further isolate you from each other. But at the same time it ensures the family unit maintains a balance so it can keep functioning during grief.

This is normal!

So please be patient with each other!

Don’t tell your spouse s/he needs to move on or that s/he should be better by now—help encourage her/him find someone s/he can talk to if you aren’t at a place to listen.

It’s normal for people experiencing grief to feel distant and out of touch with other people. (I remember how alone I felt when my sister, Cindy, died – as much as I wanted to feel a connection to my family—wanted them to feel what I was feeling so they would understand me and I would not be left feeling so alone, none of us were ever psychologically at the same place at the same time because our experiences, personalities, expectations, feelings, thoughts and needs were different. Everybody was grieving in his or her own way, and according to Hospice none of it was right or wrong. It just was what it was.)

There are many different ways to grieve.

It is so necessary to be respectful of a person’s personal journey and choices of coping.

If you feel your spouse is not supporting you in the way you currently need, it helps to have a friend or counselor who takes the time to listen to you and allows you to work through whatever you are feeling and thinking.

Remember, you can “push down” or “turn off” or “deny” or “get away from” your grief for a time but it will always come back (often at inconvenient times) until it is dealt with. The grief process is natural and it will go forward better if you don’t fight it.

And if you “keep holding on” without working through the grief, you can enter prolonged and complicated grief.

Be gentle with yourself and each other.

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My Friend
Read an excerpt now
The unsolved mystery of the death of Cindy James

I’d like to think that what I’ve written will be a comfort or will help someone to not feel so alone in grief. Maybe part of my lesson in all of this is to always offer an ear to someone even when I don’t know if they need it and to sort of “check in” on people.

“How are you doing lately…really, I want to know.”

“How are you doing with all this?”

“I’m listening if you want to talk.”

On the flip side of that, I understand how healthy it is to ask others for help sometimes. It isn’t a weakness to need help.

How I wish Cindy had asked for help instead of keeping things to herself.

But a lot of people don’t know how to let themselves be helped and they don’t even know how to ask for help!

I have such a great deal of sadness thinking that I wasn’t able to help Cindy in the way she needed. And I wonder if she had told me what was really going on (if she knew), could I have helped her?

In my experience, most people enjoy helping and if you are able to be in a place to accept it, let them help! Just be honest with yourself and others.

It’s OK to need help at times!

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My Friend
Read an excerpt now
The unsolved mystery of the death of Cindy James

When I was grieving for my sister, Cindy, I was blessed to have time with wonderful people who supported me, who listened to my heartache, who cried with me and who uplifted me in some of my darkest moments.

There were countless times when I was alone with my despair and countless times when I felt totally alone in my grief (even when I was around people who cared about me and supported me).

Today I realize my social support had been a lifeline (To talk with I’d had: my sister, Marlene, a counselor, sometimes my husband (bless his heart—he had wanted us to “move on” and “be happy” but I needed to work through a lot of grief before I could do that, so I often needed to explain to him how I was feeling and ask him to be patient with me), and various friends—it had been up to me how much I shared with any of them.)

At the time I never felt I had a resistance to mourning, but now I realize I had. (I initially could not cry in public—I had mistakenly thought it was a weakness and was ashamed…or perhaps I was too frightened to “let myself go” for fear of never recovering.)

It’s so easy to enter the realm of complicated or unresolved grief with its various psychiatric syndromes (such as prolonged clinical depression) and psychosomatic syndromes (such as anxiety attacks), if you have inadequate social support or a fear of or resistance to mourning.

Adjusting to a life without Cindy took time—an awful lot of time! I had to find new ways to focus my energy and I had to restructure my social network.

With gentle urging I acknowledged my heartache by talking about what had happened to Cindy, to me and to my family (sometimes repeatedly). I expressed my feelings (Oh, what a struggle that was at first). And by remembering, I mourned.

When I was stuck I answered the following questions:

• “What do you wish you could have said to her?”
• “What do you miss the most?”
• “Where were you and what were you doing when you heard the news?”
• “What was she like?”
• “What kind of a person was she?”
• “What is the hardest thing for you?”

Eventually the bitter sadness of loss transformed into a sweet sadness or nostalgia and I was able to love again and reach out to others, touching their lives and letting them know they are not alone in loss.

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My Friend
Read an excerpt now
The unsolved mystery of the death of Cindy James

When my sister, Cindy James, died, I found it hard to believe it was a reality—I was in shock and bathed in numbness, disbelief, denial (and eventually acceptance).

When the numbness wore off I felt intense emotional pain and gut-wrenching emptiness (and it was scary) but I learned this was a natural, common, and healthy process, and it gradually diminished (but reappeared as an anniversary reaction). While in this stage of mourning I “searched” for Cindy, called out to her, cried, and eventually realized she was still with me in my heart and my remembrances of her.

I was obsessed (consumed) with thoughts and memories and felt irritable and “not myself,” at times unable to function.

I had trouble with my appetite, my sleep and my energy level.

I felt restless and lost interest in activities I had enjoyed.

I had trouble concentrating. I daydreamed and experienced confusion and forgetfulness.

I battled with guilt (Could/Should I have done more? How? What?).

And at times I even wished I were dead (I wanted to see Cindy again but I also wanted my pain to end).

I even battled with depression.

And through it all I sought the help of Hospice and counseling.

I learned I could survive Cindy’s death—not only survive her death but also eventually return to a rewarding and fulfilling life.

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My Friend
Read an excerpt now
The unsolved mystery of the death of Cindy James

During my grieving, as I took a step and experienced a specific emotion (such as anger over the injustices bestowed upon Cindy and myself), I was learning something about myself, and growing and slowly healing and moving forward. Later on I revisited that anger for further healing but with a slightly different perspective with newer insights, realizing I had to stop judging and start reining in my anger and appreciating the broader picture—to eventually work on forgiving not only my mistakes, but also what I saw as the mistakes of others, especially those of my family.

As Elbert Hubbard, American writer, publisher, artist and philosopher, who died almost 100 years ago, emphasized, I had to learn to walk calmly in my path and not judge other people because I might be condemning myself in the process. I needed to learn to move on with my life and trust other people while realizing that neither I nor anyone else is infallible.

From it all I learned to forgive mistakes—to choose to grow.

I discovered I wasn’t at the same place I had started at—I had come full circle but was at a newer, higher level. I had progressed in a spiral fashion and had grown intellectually and emotionally. When I accepted that nothing could ever bring Cindy back, I had to look to the future and try to find the greater meaning in her life and death—the ultimate lesson. It was so hard. Since I wasn’t able to take in all of the pain of grief at once, my mind let in only a little at a time. I was taking baby steps before I could walk and then eventually running when I was ready—when I was stronger.

Or, like riding a roller coaster, I went from extreme despair, sadness, emptiness, guilt, and anger into a period of feeling positive or good only to find myself back in those negative feelings again. This happened over and over and over again—only this roller coaster didn’t take me back to the beginning. I was on a journey of growth that took me as far as I was willing to go depending on how much effort and “work” I put in.

I was always learning something even if I didn’t see it at the time!

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My Friend
Read an excerpt now
The unsolved mystery of the death of Cindy James

During the processes of working through grief and writing the book, Who Killed My Sister, My Friend, I was awakened to a different level of awareness. My senses were heightened. I saw through different eyes. I was experiencing the darkness of humanity and existence yet I was opened up to the beauty around me! There were times when I was in awe and times when I was in doubt. It was so strange! I felt like I had super powers. Today I realize it was then that I learned to really live and experience life fully. Food tasted different. I questioned everything. I needed answers and fulfillment and a purpose for my life! I opened myself up to other people’s beliefs and views while I was searching. I had to look at what my spiritual/religious beliefs were and where they came from, and I reflected on my beliefs about dying, death and what happens afterwards. I read inspirational writings, meditated, prayed, wrote letters to Cindy and “talked” to her.

In my next Blog I’ll talk about how grieving is like walking on a spiral staircase.

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My Friend
Read an excerpt now
The unsolved mystery of the death of Cindy James

I know some people think they are protecting their child by not talking about a death (as happened in my family when my brother-in-law died when I was 12), but that adds to the child’s fears because they think it is so horrible it can’t be talked about.

And it is really important to let a child know that they did not cause a death (yes, many children secretly believe they did something “bad” to cause the person to “go away”) and to tell them what did. Many kids blame their thoughts or actions for the death and then they bathe themselves in guilt, anger and self-punishment.

Find out what a child is afraid of, reassure them they are loved (hugs are important), give them opportunity to express their feelings and let them know it’s natural to feel:

• Anger over being abandoned,
• Guilty as if they caused the death,
• Fear that they will lose someone else, and
• Panic at being left alone.

Sit with them and listen to them (be “really present” and available) or find someone they feel comfortable with.

Give them rituals and times to remember the person who died.

You can help them express their memories, sorrows, fears, regrets, relief/anger, and guilt, through:

• Play,
• By creating a memory book with notes and pictures about the person who died,
• By collecting home movies and tape recordings,
• By using books and stories,
• By having them make pictures, or
• By creating a memory box from a shoebox (to hold special treasures from the past).

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My Friend
Read an excerpt now
The unsolved mystery of the death of Cindy James

Children, unlike adults, grieve sporadically (they cry for a while and then they want to play—their overt sadness can appear short-lived, or they may appear indifferent, unaffected, or perhaps even callous) because it is hard for them to tolerate intense sadness or anger. They tend initially to deny and avoid experiencing the loss.

Their experience and expression of grief varies depending on many things:

• Their age,
• Their sex,
• Developmental level,
• Life experiences,
• Loss experiences,
• Personality,
• Coping style,
• Family attitudes,
• Cultural background,
• Current environment,
• Family communication and dynamics,
• Availability of support,
• Nature of the loss or death,
• Preparation for the death, and
• Their perceived relationship with the deceased.

As they age, children need to revisit grief so they can change the way they perceive death. Their grief is reflected in changes in their behavior (sleeplessness, nightmares, clinging behavior, trouble in school, anger, mischievousness, etc.).

Normal expressions of grief in children – a desire to be rocked or nursed, a request to be helped with a task they normally do alone, the desire to sleep with a parent, etc. – should be tolerated and indulged.

Often children become overly dependent on a parent or a caregiver (fearful that the other parent will die), can regress back to baby talk and mannerisms of an earlier time, or may try to avoid school and take on the role of being sick. Over time such behaviors and expressions should decrease. But if they do manifest for a prolonged time and seem intense, the child could be in complicated grief and help should be sought.

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My Friend
Read an excerpt now
The unsolved mystery of the death of Cindy James

Many children won’t show grief unless they feel protected, loved and have reassurance that their needs will be met.

Unfortunately if death is portrayed to a child as based on fantasy and sprinkled with inaccuracies such as, “Oh, it’s like she went to sleep,” this can lead to a complication of their understanding of death.

They need accurate age-appropriate information.

There were times in my volunteer work at Hospice that I had to explain to a child what death means:

The dead person’s body has stopped working and it will never again work the way it used to. The person’s body will not see or hear and won’t talk, move or breathe anymore. When a person’s body dies, the person doesn’t feel anything anymore.

You can explain that love does not die when a loved one dies. The spirit of someone you love does not die but lives in your heart and your memory. It belongs to you always and is your treasure.

In order to help a child, you need to find out what they believe about death and talk about death with them, sometimes by being the first to verbalize what the child is feeling and that you feel it too…

“I know you miss Nana very much. I really miss her so much too.”

It’s important for a child to see you express your grief on occasion—explain that people cry when they feel sad and that it’s OK.

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My Friend
Read an excerpt now
The unsolved mystery of the death of Cindy James