We need to talk...

I've spent the better part of the last several weeks writing.  Blog posts, Facebook posts, and Twitter posts on multiple sites and pages I manage.  I've also spent a good deal of time reading and commenting on the posts of others.  This post and it's subject matter have been swimming in my head for several weeks.

The crux of it is, we need to talk.  There needs to be a conversation that not only starts, but continues. It's already started, but the focus is not where it needs to be.  Perhaps I can help shift to focus to where it should be.  Where it needs to be.

The Conversation
Most of the conversation the past few weeks has revolved around two things.  Child Safety and kids dying.  Two things I am clearly passionate about, and for me, have been part of my conversations for the past ten years.  It wasn't my choice to have these passions.  It was born of circumstance. Circumstances that are now part of the fabric of who I am, what I do, and why I write.

Oddly, it seems many people don't understand how these two things go together.  Or, perhaps more accurately, they do understand, but they don't want to think about it.  They don't want it thrown in their face. Especially at a time when they are having a good time, gathered with friends and family, and expecting to be entertained by both by the people around them and what they are watching on TV.

Yes, I'm referring to the Superbowl and the highly controversial Nationwide ad for Make Safe Happen.  I've written about it before and you can refer to that post for my feelings on the ad itself.

Having read many comments on many social media, news, and blog sites, I am saddened.  Not just because so many people did not *get* the message, but the actual reason they did not get the message or outright refused to get the message, even when it was explained to them.  DEATH SCARES THE S*IT OUT OF PEOPLE.  Especially when it's about kids.

Death:  Don't Wanna Even...
Am I wrong?  Does the thought of a loved one dying, especially suddenly and unexpectedly, scare the pants off you?  You don't want to think about it do you?  You certainly don't want to think about what it would be like to get that phone call, that visit to your door from an officer, or the doctor and the social worker at the door of your loved one's hospital room.  So many people refuse to create wills, health care proxies or power of attorney documents because they just don't want to think about death. Or think they can put it off until "later" and then, when death comes, later turns out to be tomorrow...

You fear your spouse having a heart attack or being in a fatal car accident.  You know your loved one with cancer is fighting for their life but you don't want to consider they might not win, even if they have. You absolutely don't want to ever have to go to a child's wake or funeral because it's just too hard to even think about, let alone have it be for YOUR CHILD.

So what do you do instead?  You get pissed off when someone else confronts you with it.  Especially if they confront you with it out of nowhere, when you were not expecting it.  Even worse, if it's a time when you are gathered with friends and family in celebration.

Guess what.  That's the point.  That's what it's like for thousands of people every single day.  Their perfectly happy lives are shattered when a loved one suddenly and unexpectedly dies.  Death, like that ad, doesn't come when you are "ready" for it. It does not always come with a warning.  It comes when it damn well pleases.  Sometimes you can prepare for it, sometimes you cannot. Sometimes there are things you can do to prevent it, sometimes there are not. There is no good time for a loved one to die. None.

There was no better time to air that Nationwide ad.  Why?  A huge audience, full of parents.  Who is their target audience?  Parents.  What was their goal?  Education and yes, maybe even shock value. They wanted to get your attention, and they did.  The message, preventable accidents are the # 1 cause of death to children and a kid can die just this fast, and when they do, this is how it feels.  Don't like it?  MAKE SAFE HAPPEN.  It was that simple.

Misplaced Emotions or No Idea What to do with Them?
Of course people got pissed off.  How dare Nationwide make me confront a subject I'm not comfortable with?  How dare they do it when *I* am having a good time?  How dare they not warn me they were going to "kill" my Superbowl buzz by killing a kid?  They (you?) didn't want their happy family and friends feel good party "ruined."  I get it.

Neither did I.  On December 18th, 2004 I was supposed to be wrapping Christmas gifts and making cookies and crafts with my kids.  Instead, I woke up to find my daughter crushed beneath her dresser. I spent half the day at hospitals.  I came home with a box of her hand and foot prints and a lock of her hair. And overwhelming guilt. She went to the morgue. I didn't want Christmas ruined in 2004 (and for the rest of my life) when instead, I had to bury my daughter who died from a preventable tip-over accident 3 days before Christmas.  I COULD HAVE PREVENTED HER DEATH!

Your Superbowl party might have been brought down by a commercial.  My entire life came crashing down around me when my daughter died from a preventable accident.  One I could have prevented, had I known of the danger.  Had I believed the danger.  Had I known the statistics.  If only... Their goal was to educate you so you don't ever have to know what it's like to be me. Get it?  That ad, might have saved my daughter's life if I'd seen it ten years ago.

Despite my pain, despite the trigger, I loved the ad.  Why?  IT CAN SAVE LIVES!  It can prevent you from ever having to feel the pain I do.  The pain millions of parents feel every year.  The pain of losing a child to something you could have prevented. I already live with the pain of losing a child. An ad is not going to change that. If only it were that easy...

So I'm sorry your SuperBowl viewing experience was ruined for a few minutes.  Really.  But guess what?  You then went back to your eating, drinking, laughing, and regularly scheduled life.  My "regular" life is nothing like it was supposed to be.  I'm sorry, but get over it.

Must Know Info: Grief is a Journey and it Lasts a Lifetime
You know, it's also interesting to me how many bereaved parents were outraged.  They slammed Nationwide for being insensitive to bereaved parents.  That bereaved parents were triggered by the commercial and it should not have been shown during the Superbowl.  That showing an ad that depicted a child dying was in poor taste. They were angry they were watching with the bereaved siblings of the child that died, and they siblings may have also been upset by the trigger.  Or fellow bereaved family members who took offense to their escapist Superbowl viewing being hijacked by a commercial that reminded them of their loss.

Look, I get it. I am a bereaved parent.  I know the spot was a trigger.  I know it blindsided people whether they had ever lost a child or not.  Grief is forever.  Triggers happen.  They suck.  I hate them as much as the next person.  I knew what was coming and I still cried when it aired. It was powerful and compelling. Nationwide did not deliberately try to upset bereaved parents.  Parents who did not lose a child to a preventable accident may have also missed the point of the ad, because of their own grief.  That's understandable. Would there have been a "good" or "better" time to air that ad?  If it triggered you then, it would have triggered you whenever you happened to see it.  Perhaps you'd have been less likely to see it if it were not aired during the Superbowl.

Many of us prefer to be alone in our grief, or when triggered unexpectedly, but what about the benefit of having the support of others in our grief?  What about taking advantage of having friends and family around to support each other, have a conversation, and help us work through our grief? Especially when something like this happens?  That was the gift inside of this commercial for families who are bereaved for any reason, but especially the loss of a child.  The opportunity to start or continue the conversation about death and grief. Of course if your loss was recent, this is often harder to do and I am sensitive to that.  Really, I am.

Even if you had not ever lost a child, if you didn't like the ad during the Superbowl, you would not have liked it any better during your favorite reality, sitcom, or drama show, either.

The Truth
Let's be real and honest here. Your objection to the ad was not *really* that it aired during the Superbowl. It was that it involved the death of a child and it made you uncomfortable.  That discomfort was likely amplified by the fact you were probably in a social environment, and with other people who were equally uncomfortable with a serious subject like the death of a child.  You probably did not have much experience discussing death and/or are uncomfortable with it, or even if you did, you might have felt peer pressure to go along with the crowd and their reaction.  Chances are you stuffed whatever emotion the ad dredged up in you, or, impulsively blamed Nationwide for YOUR discomfort with the death of a child (and likely completely missing the point of the ad), and went back to the party and the game.

I was watching with my two sons, who are obviously bereaved siblings.  We talked about it right after it aired.  They were not upset by it.  They *got* it.  Once they understood the reason the ad was made that way, and what it was really about, they were able to see the benefit.  They were proud their sister is helping to save lives through Meghan's Hope and my involvement with the Nationwide Make Safe Happen campaign.

Why were my kids not upset?  Probably largely because we *do* talk about death in this house.  We talk about how Meggie died, why she died, and what we can do to prevent it from happening to others. I don't shelter them from death, I never have and I never will.  Even when they were 3 and 6 the day she died, they were involved in all of it in an age-appropriate way. We are an open, honest, real family. We talk about triggers and that it can be upsetting when things remind us of her and the way she died. We talked about how others might not feel the same way we do and why.  I want my kids to understand and be comfortable talking about death.

While talking about triggers, what about the 911 ad?  How do you think victims of domestic violence felt about that ad?  Don't you think it was a trigger for them?  What about people who lost children to cancers or other illness and their reaction to the St. Jude commercial?  What about alcoholics and people who lost loved ones to drunk driving and all the beer commercials?  Triggers can happen to anyone, anywhere, anytime and for any reason. Yes, for those who have lost a loved one and especially a child they may be more intense, but there are other kinds of losses that cause just as strong of a grief reaction.

To a point, we can only relate to what we know and what we believe to be true.  When it comes to grief, everyone does it differently.  Everyone brings to any discussion their personal, cultural, religious and spiritual beliefs along with their personal life experience.

The Power of Choice 
Yet we always have a choice.  We can choose to be pissed off and self-absorbed about our personal feelings about anything, in this case the Nationwide ad, and the fact they used a child that died from a preventable accident to educate parents that preventable accidents are the #1 cause of death to children. That their kids could be at risk.  Really. Not someone else's kids. THEIR kids.

Nationwide made it real. Reality, when it involves death, makes most of us uncomfortable.

Instead of getting the message.  Instead of going to the makesafehappen website or checking out the app to see what it was all about, people lashed out against Nationwide for "killing a kid during the Superbowl."  They chose to place blame on Nationwide for how it made them feel.  Nationwide did not "make" you feel or do anything.  That's all you.  They created an emotional, compelling, PSA. How you chose to react to it was all you. Really, we need to start owning our feelings, understanding them, and stop blaming others, no matter what it is we feel. The only person responsible for how you feel is you.

Let me say that again.  The only person responsible for how you feel is you.

I propose it was much less about how people felt about the commercial itself and a whole lot more about how death-averse we are as a society.  People missed both messages embedded in that commercial.  In doing so, they missed both an opportunity to learn more about preventable accidents and making kids safer and they missed the opportunity to have a real, honest, and important conversation about death, dying, and grief.

The Conversation Begging to be Had
Here is the thing.  Death is part of life.  We are all going to die.  We all know that, but no one seems to want to actually acknowledge it until they have no choice.  Yes, we would love to believe that we will all live long, happy, healthy and full lives and die of old age when we are damn good and ready to.

Except life doesn't always work that way.

People die.  Some after living long, fulfilling, wonderful lives. Some before they are born.  Some die of horrible diseases they did not ask for or deserve. Some die in car accidents or plane crashes that were no fault of their own.  Some will have a heart attack or stroke with no risk factors or warning signs.  Some die trying to save the lives of others like the members of our armed forces or first responders.  Some are horribly murdered.  Some commit suicide.  Some die in an accident that may have been preventable.  Sometimes the victims of these accidents are kids.

There is never a good time to lose someone we love.  When kids die, it hits us especially hard.  Even if we don't know them. Why?  Kids are not supposed to die. Certainly not before their parents.  Of course not everything that takes the life of a child can be prevented.  But many accidents can be prevented. Why would you not want to do everything you can to protect children so they have every opportunity to live long, happy, and healthy lives?

Nationwide started a conversation.  They want to educate people that accidents are the #1 cause of death to children.  They want to teach parents and those who care for children what the dangers are and how to make their homes and their children safer.  It's that simple.  It's that important.  They provided a wonderful resource and information in the Make Safe Happen website and app.  They want to save the lives of children.

I want to take it one step further.  Let's also let it be a catalyst for talking about death, dying, and grief.  Let's learn how to support others who have lost someone they love.  Let's learn how to support someone who is dying and those who love them.  Let's talk to our families about what would be important to us when we are facing the end of life or after we die.  I've tried to start this conversation, at least with regard to understanding and supporting bereaved parents, with my book Out of the Darkness.  

What you can do
I ask of you two things.

First, If you've not yet done so, please visit the Make Safe Happen Website and download the app or, if you don't have young children in your life, share it with someone who does.

Second, make a date on your calendar to talk to your spouse, significant other, children, family members and/or friends about what would be important to you if you were dying.  What you'd want after you die for services.  Create a health care proxy, power of attorney, and will if you've not done so already.  Don't wait for a health crisis, or for when you get older, or allow it to be put off over and over again.  Do it now.  It will make everything so much easier when death does come knocking for everyone involved.

Be the change.

Thank you.

Meghan’s Hope and Nationwide are partners in the Make Safe Happen campaign. While all opinions expressed here are my own, I have received compensation from Nationwide for promotion of their Make Safe Happen campaign materially or financially.

Self-publishing: Was it worth it?

So, now that I've come down off the high of holding my very own book in my hands, I've had a chance to reflect on what it took to get to that point.  For those of you who may be aspiring writers, friends and family wondering what the hell I've been doing for the past 18 months, or for those who just want to know what it took to make this dream a reality, read on!

I had been toying with the idea of writing a book for years.  Fifteen years ago I had gone as far as writing a proposal for a book about twin pregnancy and birth.  Then, the same week that I was actively seeking an agent, my 3-year old daughter died, suddenly and unexpectedly.  If you follow this blog, you know all about Meghan and what has happened in the ten years since that day.  Needless to say, my focus shifted.  That venture.  That dream.  That part of my life, dropped off the radar. 

After I started writing to Meggie a few weeks after she died, I pondered turning some of my "letters" into a book.  But how?

No matter.  Grieving got in the way. Life got in the way.  Collateral losses got in the way.  There was no energy.  No time.  But the desire was still there, waaaaay in the back of my mind but ever present in my heart. 

For the past several years, I have had the idea to write a book for bereaved parents.  Then, I began to wonder if I could write a book that served two purposes.  Both a book for the bereaved and those who support them, but also part memoir, as supporting "evidence" for the self-help portion of the book.  

It was a daunting task.  Not so much the writing part, but the logistics of it.  I worked nearly full time between all my jobs.  I had two boys to raise who played soccer almost every night and weekend.  I managed Meghan's Hope in my "free" time, a time consuming but voluntary labor of love.  With what little was left, I fostered relationships with family and friends.  I don't sleep much as it is... when the hell would I find time to write?

Two years ago I wrote the blog post that was a call to action and cry heard around the world.  It was called Be With Me.  Just for Today.  Perhaps, if you've been here before, you've read it.  It went viral. The thousands of comments and messages I received was astounding and overwhelming.  I wanted to raise awareness about the dangers of furniture and TV tip-overs.  Which I did, and I was thrilled. That has evolved in ways I only dreamed of and will write more about that soon.  

What I didn't expect from that blog post, were the hundreds of messages from other bereaved parents, who in reading it, reached out to me to thank me for sharing what it's like to be a bereaved parent publicly.  To tell me they felt the same way and thought they were the only ones.  That they were frustrated their family and friends kept telling them to get over it and move on.  That other people did not understand what it was like to lose a child.  How it hurts so much and for so long... forever.  My grief keeping and sharing encouraged them to do the same. We all helped each other to heal.

In talking to other bereaved parents, they encouraged me to write more about it.  I found myself having similar conversations with many different people about child loss and coping.  What to say to bereaved parents.  What not to say.  How to tell your family how you feel.  What to do if they don't get it.  Where to find help when they feel so alone.  

Then, I found, through my work as a home care physical therapist, there are a tremendous number of bereaved elderly, who lost their own children.  Some as babies, some as teenagers, some just last year and yet their pain is no different, no less than had it happened yesterday to their only child born still. Then I started to get referrals to talk to other bereaved parents.  As a lay mentor.  When I mentioned my plans for a book they all said, "Yes, oh please... that would be so helpful... I can't wait to read it"

Thoughts of a non-fiction book, part self-help, part memoir, began to swim around in my head again. It was daunting to consider actually undertaking writing a book!  

I received one unsolicited publishing offer as a result of my blog post. I researched the company, which was a hybrid "self-publishing" and part traditional publishing company.  They were offering me a discount of $1500 (that I would pay them) to publish it. They sent me a contract.  I didn't like the terms.  They could not be changed.  I said thank you but no thank you.  

I sought out information with another popular self-publishing company, who gave my ego all kinds of stroking and would be more than thrilled to publish my book for anywhere from $1500-6000 depending on what services I wanted.  They were more pushy, doing the car salesman thing of "let me talk to my manager to see if I can get you a better price".  I don't play that game.  After doing further research, I also rejected that offer.  Interestingly, the sales person sent me the vibe that I did the right thing.  Not with her words at all, it's just the energetic feeling I got from her tone of voice and my intuition.  Validation, I guess. 

It seemed to me self-publishing should not cost thousands of dollars and then the publisher still has control of pretty much everything and royalties amount to about $1.20 per book sold if you are lucky. It's pretty hard to recoup the initial expense, let alone make money, especially when you add in your own marketing costs since they don't do that for you!  This book was too important and too personal to give up control of content, the cover, the price... anything to someone who knew nothing of the content or the intended audience.  Such emotional and delicate subject matter with such a niche audience.  No, this was my baby... about my baby. 

I also talked to one traditional small publisher.  No cost to me up front but they still got most of the money from the sales, which is more appropriate than the other offers, but again, I was not willing to give up creative control for this particular book.  They dealt in books close to my target audience, but still with small reach.  I was close to taking this offer though, just because the pressure for editing and cover and all of that would be off. 

Finally, after literally months of research and soul-searching, I decided to truly self-publish.  I chose CreateSpace, which is an Amazon affiliate.  I did this after days and weeks  and months of reading and researching different options out there.  My head was spinning! You know what it costs to truly self-publish?  Nothing!  Well, except time, which you probably have to devote more to when pursuing this route.  

There are other costs that are worth factoring in, like finding an editor and perhaps a cover designer. Still, it's a hell of a lot less expensive and you retain full rights, creative control, and will see a much higher royalty payment per book sold as a result. You choose the size of your book, the font, the title, the content, the price, everything.  Great! So now I had a plan! 

The challenge was in finding the time to do it.  Writing can be time consuming.  Writing about something so emotional and personal requires uninterrupted time. Research also had to be done.  

There are actually courses out there that teach you how to write.  How to write a book proposal.  How to market.  How to find an agent.  There are also a plethora of books out there.  There are courses on how to meet media and sell your story.  How to write a bio.  It goes on and on. They all cost money. They may or may not help you.  It depends what you need and where you can access that information. I purchased a few.  To be honest, I have read nor watched many of them.  A colossal waste of money.  

I took the NaNoWriMo challenge in November of 2013 (National Novel Writing Month) and wrote the bulk of the book then.  November-December and the summer months are the only relative "down" time I have with the soccer schedule of my boys.

Then I took a break.  I got back to it in the spring and over the summer.  I began to look for an editor. I asked friends and family and other bereaved parents to read it for me to give feedback on content and flow.  Of those that even agreed to do it, only one actually read the entire book and provided the feedback. The others either couldn't get through it or didn't have the time.  Most didn't even take me up on the offer.  I get it.  People are busy.  The subject matter is very emotional.  I was sad more people didn't follow through.  It made me wonder if anyone would really buy it.  

I plowed on.  I found an editor.  I finished the first draft.  I began incorporating the line edits. It is very tedious and time consuming work.  It took months of on again, off again editing and re-editing. Then I read it again.  And edited it, again.  Rinse. Lather. Repeat.  Over and over and over.  I understand now why a good book editor can cost a few thousand dollars.

It got to the point where I couldn't get the distance I needed to do the developmental editing anymore, let alone find the few and random punctuation and grammatical or spelling/word choice errors.  I again asked if people would be willing to give it a quick read for feedback.  Crickets.  

I was on my own. 

I formatted it for CreateSpace.  Formatting errors then needed to be corrected and it also made for previously missed errors in punctuation and grammar easier to spot.  Great!  More tedious line editing.  I did have the support and assistance of my tech savvy husband, which was a Godsend!

Next began a process of uploading the file to CreateSpace for approval.  Their return of the proof was usually less than 24 hours, which was great.  You could order a digital proof, which was free and immediately available, or you could order a printed proof of the book, which took about 5 business days expedited delivery.  It's a print on demand system, so overnight or 2 day delivery really isn't an option. Cost of author copies depends on the size of the book and number of pages.  You had to pay for a printed proof.  

I ordered one printed proof for the first print ready upload, just to see the cover for real.  It looked blurry in the PDF proof.  It actually wasn't in the printed version. You can do both the printed and the digital PDF proof, which I did. So, in the meantime, other errors were found once I received the PDF print ready proof, so then I had to go back and change the original formatted word doc and re-upload it (you can't edit in their PDF proof reader). I did this 3 or 4 times before I finally hit the wall and let it go. 

Then there is the cover design.  I am blessed and fortunate to have generous friends.  Two edited it for me, one line edits only, the other both line and developmental editing.  My friend Steve, who is an amazing photographer and Photoshop guru, helped me with the cover design.  No, scratch that.  He did the entire cover design.  I just gave him my vision, he found some pictures, I chose one.  I gave him the words, he did the rest.  It's amazing.  He kicks all kinds of cover design ass.  For payment, he has requested a nice dinner with our respective significant others.  Done and done.  If you want to see his photos, check him out at this Flickr site https://www.flickr.com/photos/sdowen/

Once you approve the print ready proof in CreateSpace it's locked and cannot be changed.  It is immediately available for purchase in the CreateSpace store.  It took 3 days before my book was available on Amazon.

The author gets a higher royalty, almost double, from the CreateSpace store than they do from Amazon sales because Amazon takes 40%.  Still, it's far less than what most traditional or so called "Self" publishing houses take. Amazon is probably where the vast majority of books are sold today. It's where I buy all mine.  So having my book in a brick and mortar bookstore was not necessary for me. I also didn't want the hassle of trying to sell the books on my own Website, as that adds cost, the need for a sales tax permit, shipping cost determination and challenges, and a lot of trips to the post office. I'd also have to keep an inventory, which has it's own logistical challenges.

Is the book perfect?  No.  I'm sure there are a few grammatical errors I missed. 

Is the content perfect?  No.  I did the best I could.  If I had written about everything I wanted to and with the level of detail I would have liked, the book would be too heavy and too expensive to manage! There is some repetition, but it's intentional because of the way the book was written.  It's designed to read like a conversation between the reader and I in a down to earth, person to person manner.  it's also written so any chapter could stand alone.  Not everyone will read it in order.  Not everyone will read the entire book.  Not everyone will like it.  Not everyone will understand it's purpose, although I tried to make it clear from the cover copy and introduction and in my marketing efforts.

I'm sure with some distance and a re-read in a few months, along with feedback from readers, I will be able to see it with fresh eyes and update it if need be.  Therein lies another beautiful thing about self-publishing.

I can always revise it!  It just means while I am going through the process of revising the content, the book is unavailable for sale since it's also unavailable for printing.  It means potential lost sales for a few days.  

Once you have published your book with CreateSpace, you have the option of converting the files to the Kindle Publishing Platform or KDP (Kindle Direct Publishing).  Turns out the conversion of the Word file did not prove easy.  The formatting got all messed up.  It had to be reformatted for Kindle, which proved to be no easy task.  Thankfully, my husband is savvy because I could not have figured it out easily, if at all.  He converted it to a mobi file, wrote some HTML code to make the table of contents work the way it ideally should in a mobile device or e-reader, and an entire day of reformatting later...  it's 90% compatible with the most popular Kindle reading apps.  It looks different in every device.  What a royal PIA!  There is really no way to get it perfect for all of them so far as I can tell.  

So, after almost 2 years since I began this process, and a very concentrated last 2 months with all kinds of glitches at the end, I am a published author.  Had I known about all the formatting inconsistencies, challenges of cover design, and the likely need for multiple revisions and 24 hr lags between proof returns digitally, I'd have factored that in.  I was on a self-imposed publishing deadline, which was a good thing, because otherwise it might never have gotten done!  

The beauty of self-publishing is the only deadline is your own!  You do need to plan ahead though as editing can take a few months for your editor and then you have to incorporate all those edits which can take weeks if not longer, depending on how much time you have to devote to it.  You also have to plan for cover design, which can also be quite time consuming unless you have mad Photoshop skilz.

You could hire someone to design a cover, but that will also take a month or two and add cost that must be factored in.  How long it takes you to write is all up to you.  Obviously, if I were not also working, being a mom, and managing an educational awareness campaign, I could have done the writing a lot faster and the same is true for editing.  Then, of course, a good few weeks should be budged for unexpected glitches at the end like Kindle formatting.  If you don't have the skills to understand and do the formatting, you may need to hire someone to do the conversion for you, and that adds more time and expense.

Do I regret any of it?  Absolutely not.  While I was honored and thrilled to be offered 3 different publishing contracts, I knew in my heart of hearts, this was meant to be a truly self-published book. My goal is not to sell a million copies, although that would be nice, to know all those people are getting the information and support they need after suffering the worst loss ever.    The reality is this is a book no wants to ever have to buy.  It's a niche audience.  It's a book hundreds of people need every single day as newly bereaved parents, and one hundreds of thousands could use because they know someone who is a bereaved parent or are one themselves who has never been offered the support and guidance or even permission to grieve.

If this book helps but one person in their journey out of the darkness of grief, then it was worth every single second.  

If you'd like to learn more, visit http://www.outofthedarknessgriefsupport.com/

A Letter to Meggie on her 10th Angelversary

Dear Meggie,

As I sit in your bedroom on this, the 10th anniversary of your death, I find myself thinking not only of your short three years here on earth, but wondering what you would be like today, had the unthinkable not happened.  Who would you be?  What would you have become?  You would be a teenager now!

Your twin brother is thirteen.  He is growing like the proverbial weed.  Ky-ole is over 6 feet and already a junior in high school!  How tall would you be now?  What would you look like? What would your voice sound like?  Would your eyes still hold that same wisdom? Would the boys be chasing you or would you be chasing them?  Never mind, I already know the answer to that one...

I gaze at the little lock of hair tied with a pink ribbon the nurses gave us the day you died. I can’t help but wonder, would your hair be long or would you prefer a pixie cut?  You never were one for keeping the “pretties” in for very long.  I wonder if your hair would still be that beautiful golden blonde or if it would have darkened like both of your brothers’ hair did.  

Would you be a girly-girl or more of a casual tomboy?  You liked to dress up but you also liked to be naked just as much!  You loved both your Tinker Bell jammies and your dinosaur jammies.  Your grandmothers would have kept you well supplied with girly clothes whether you liked it or not!

As I glance at the finger paintings and drawings you made, I can’t help but wonder, would you have been an artist?  You loved to paint!  You were very crafty.  Your hand and foot prints look so tiny now.  

I remember how active and busy you were. Would you be a dancer, gymnast, or soccer player like your brothers are?  I bet you’d have done all three of them!   Or, maybe you’d have done something entirely different.  My money is on gymnast.   

Would you still have a love of kitties, all things pink and sparkly, and Tinker Bell, or, would your tastes have changed?  Would you still be silly and playful?  I hope so.  I bet you would be.  Bampy would make sure you didn’t lose that!

Would you enjoy running 5k’s with your mother in silly costumes or would you roll your eyes in embarrassment like the boys do now? You always did run fast!  I probably wouldn’t be able to keep up with you.  I can’t keep up with your brothers, either.  

What would dinner time be like if you were here?  Would the family dynamic be significantly different?  Would you still like Veggie Booty?  Does anyone else even eat Veggie Booty?

If you continued to command attention the way you used to, I’m sure it would be different! You would have had your big brothers both wrapped around your little finger!  I bet there would be a lot more arguments about which movie we watch or what game we play.  Your brothers would have learned so much more about dealing with girls… and young women.  No doubt, you’d have set them straight and kept them in line.  They would have been fiercely protective of you, too.

I wonder if it would have been a Frozen Christmas this year…  Maybe we all would have gone to the Village for Christmas.  Auntie T would have totally sucked you in to glow with the show ears at Disney World!  Grammie and Bampy probably would have spent an arm and a leg to take you to the Bippidi Boppity Boutique so you could be a princess.  We would have had matching Tinker Bell wings and wands!  :-)

Speaking of Christmas, I know the joy of the season would be back if you were still with us. So much of the joy and sparkle of the season died with you.  It’s been such a struggle to get it back.  I try, but it’s so hard.  I know you send love and light every year, and occasionally throw down an angel or an ornament just to let us know your playful side is still with us.  Still, we miss you so much it hurts.  It literally hurts.

Instead of holding a photograph of you for the big family picture, I wish I was holding you.  

It’s so hard to believe it’s been ten years Meggie.  There are so many things I thought we’d share together that we’ve already missed.  The double birthday celebrations and parties for you and Ry. The first days of school and the last days of school.  Holidays and birthdays and gatherings with friends.  Family vacations and summer day trips.  The dance recitals and sporting events we never got the chance to share.  Trips to Disney.

And now, all I have to look forward to are more milestones without you. I won’t ever get to celebrate the rites of passage into womanhood with you.  I’ll never have the opportunity to teach you to drive.  I won’t get to see you grow into the amazingly beautiful and bright woman I know you would have been.  I won’t see you graduate, get married, or have your own children.  There will be no mother daughter mani-pedis, or girls only shopping trips.  No prom, no first dates, no bridal or baby showers… I’ll never be the mother of the bride.   

Instead, I spend all of these transitional moments missing you.  Every holiday.  Every milestone your brothers reach.  Every milestone I reach.  Every milestone you should have reached.  Every Mother’s Day. Every day.  Wondering who you would be at each of them. How it would be different if you were still here with us.  Feeling the pain of your absence.

I am alone in my pain of missing you, because it, like you, is invisible.  At least most of the time.  Others can’t see it, or don’t understand it, so they don’t acknowledge it.  

When Ry gets his learner’s permit I will cry.  When he graduates, I will cry.  When he goes to his first formal dance, I will cry.  When he marries, I will cry.  When your brothers achieve all of their milestones, I will cry.  Tears of happiness for him.  Tears of sadness for me, because there is forever one, where two should always have been.  

How will Ry feel?  Will he miss sharing these moments with his twin sister?  Does he wonder what it would be like if you were still his best friend?  His telepathic partner in mischief?  What would your twinship be like now?  Would you still insist “Ry Ry did it?”  He’d probably deny it now… I think he’d catch on eventually.

How will Kyle feel?  Does he ever think about what life would be like now with his “baby” sister?  How it would be different?  

The world will forever see I have 2 boys where 2 boys and a beautiful little girl should have been. Some will know what is missing.  Most will not.  I will always know. I will always miss you.  It will always hurt.

All I can do now is hope that wherever you are, you are at peace.  You are happy.  You are free.  You are flying with the angels.  I hope your wings are sparkly!  I hope you can feel the love we hold in our hearts for you here.  We can feel the love you send us. Keep it coming!  

You always wanted to fly high in the sky…

Happy 10th Angelversary my sweet baby girl.  May your wings help you soar high and free.  

Kiss.

Hug.

Snuggle.

Love,

Mommy

Who wants my shoes?

It's that day again.  The first day of school!  I don't know about your house, but it was a first day of school miracle here.  With two boys, one in 6th grade and one in 10th, the fact they woke up ON THEIR OWN, were not only downstairs and ready before they had to be (with everything they needed, even), but ate breakfast and got out the door on time, without nagging, left me both flabbergasted and tickled pink at the same time.  It made the hassle of shopping, organizing and trying to get them to participate in preparation quite rewarding at 6:30 this am.  If only it could last all the school year...

Speaking of pink, this day is never an easy one.   As I watched my youngest head off to the bus stop, so independent and SO excited to be in middle school, I couldn't help but wonder, as I always do on the first day of school, what it would've been like if his twin sister was racing him to the bus stop.  That's the way it was supposed to be, you know.  With her pretty new back to school dress and platinum blonde hair in a ponytail with a pink bow.  Giggling as they shared yet another exciting adventure together.  I was supposed to be back to school shopping for girly things.  The clothes, the shoes, the backpack, the school accessories, the dance or gymnastic outfits.  We were supposed to get our toes painted together and get her hair cut.  I was supposed to hug my three babies and send them off for another year to learn and grown.  She was supposed to come home with her brother, telling me all about her middle school adventures and what sports or clubs she wanted to try out for or join.  I was supposed to get a hug and kiss from my twins, my son and my daughter.

Instead, my boys got on the bus and I drove to the cemetery.  To visit my daughter's grave.  There is pink there, among the trinkets and tributes left for her.  There is no backpack.  No new shoes.  No pretty new clothes.  No pink hair pretties. Dreams of watching her dance and jump and play died nearly 9 years ago when she did.  I sat there.  I stared at her headstone.  I felt guilty I've neglected the flowers the past few weeks and they've died in the heat.  I saw the resilient roses on the rose bush and smiled.  There will be pink!  She always was persistent...

I felt a heaviness in my heart.  I asked, to no one in particular, why?  Why was I robbed of the joy of raising a daughter?  Why were my boys robbed of their sister?  Why was it MY little girl and not yours? Why do I have to wear these shoes?  They are ugly and tight and they hurt like hell.  I will never, ever be able to get them off.  When everyone is posting back to school photos and complaining about something or other, I am sitting at my daughter's grave site.  Alone.  Alone with my sadness.  My guilt.  The pain of what could have been but will never be.  I won't ever get another hug from her.  I'll never run my hands through her silky hair. We won't ever giggle over the power of pixie dust.  I just have to keep putting one foot in front of the other, walking further away from the last time I held her.  Heard her voice.  Smelled her scent.  Snuggled her.

I sigh.  Tears spring to my eyes.  For some reason, I'm always surprised by how easy it is, if I let myself just stop for a moment, to feel the pain.  As years go by, you get good at keeping it under the surface so you can function and live life.  Yet it's always there.  Just like those shoes.  They seem to pinch a lot harder on these trigger days.  Perhaps it's because on these days, the pain of her loss swells, making the walk that much more painful.

I'd give anything to give away my shoes.  The truth is, none of you want them.  I don't blame you.  The trade is not a fair one.  It's not even one I'd wish upon my greatest enemy (if I had one).  It's my path to walk.  I accept it.  I have no choice.  That doesn't mean I don't feel the pinch of my too tight, ugly and permanent shoes.  It doesn't mean I don't want to give them away.

It just means I want you to remember, I'm not alone.  There are thousands of other parents who wear this style of shoe and who feel this pain.  They may not say anything about it, but they may be cranky.  They may not call you back.  They may cut you off in traffic.  They may yell or overreact.  It's because they are hurting. Please remember them.  Me.  Us.  We have many days like this every year.

So please, don't make fun of our shoes.  Walk with us in them.  Just for a moment.  You are lucky.  You can always take them off...

A is for Angels

A.  I must resist the urge to recite from one of my favorite Dr. Seuss books, "Big A, little A, what begins with A?" Come on, admit it, you did the same thing, right?

Today's inaugural post in the A to Z metaphysical challenge is about angels.  What better "A" word could their be in the realm of spirit?

Interestingly, the concept of angels seems to evoke a range of emotion and belief.  There are those that simply don't believe in angels at all.  There are others who believe they exist but on a plane that we cannot access.  Some believe they are beautiful, loving and good.  Some see them and talk to them.  Some receive and give message from them.  Some believe our deceased loved ones become angels.  Others believe if you claim to 'talk' to them, hear or see them, you are lying, crazy or delusional or perhaps even evil.

Angel comes from the Greek word aggelos, which means messenger.  There are many mentions of angels in the Bible and of their creation. To attempt to engage in a comprehensive discussion would result in a novel of my own.  Thus, I offer a definition and a tidbit of personal experience as food for thought.

By definition, according to dictionary.com

an·gel

  [eyn-juhl] 

noun

1.

one of a class of spiritual beings; a celestial attendant of God. In medieval angelology, angels constituted the lowest of the nine celestial orders (seraphim, cherubim, thrones, dominations, ordominions, virtues, powers, principalities or princedoms, archangels, and angels).

2.

a conventional representation of such a being, in human form, with wings, usually in white robes.

3.

a messenger, especially of God.

4.

a person who performs a mission of God or acts as if sent by God: an angel of mercy.

5.

a person having qualities generally attributed to an angel, as beauty, purity, or kindliness.

6.

a person whose actions and thoughts are consistently virtuous.

7.

an attendant or guardian spirit.

8.

a deceased person whose soul is regarded as having been accepted into heaven.

9.

a person who provides financial backing for some undertaking, as a play, political campaign, orbusiness venture: A group of angels entered the mix, providing George the leverage he needed to take thestartup company in a new direction. Angels seek deals that they can exit in less than a decade.

10.

an English gold coin issued from 1470 to 1634, varying in value from 6s. 8d. to 10s. and bearing on itsobverse a figure of the archangel Michael killing a dragon.

11.

Slang. an image on a radar screen caused by a low-flying object, as a bird.

What is your concept of an angel?  Have you ever had an experience with one?  Do you fall into the group of people who believe or people who do not? Maybe you just are not sure?  It doesn't matter really, you believe what you believe and that's OK, because it resonates with you.

I have had personal experience with angels.  Probably many times without acknowledging it, especially as a child.  My most profound experience was the day Meghan died.  It was not an experience I asked for, was looking for or even ever wanted, even when in the middle of it.  It was vivid, real and powerful.  Even a bit frightening, though not in a scary sense, just in a "holy s*it, did that really just happen!?" sense.

Are you skeptical of that?  If I hadn't experienced it myself, I wouldn't have believed me, either!  There was absolutely no mistake I had a conversation with two energetic beings, while outside of my physical body myself, that exuded love and light.  It was a telepathic and energetic conversation, not a verbal one.  I *knew* them yet I couldn't tell you who they were.  They were familiar.  I knew why they were there.  I received information, I reacted with human emotion but I *understood* on a soul level what was being said to me, what was happening and why.  I *had* to listen, even though the human part of me wanted to get back in my body and convince myself it was all a crazy dream.  It wasn't.  I know for a fact it wasn't.  It was a powerful experience that left me with both a sense of peace and understanding as much as it left me feeling confused, angry on some level and doubting the entire experience.  It sent me on a spiritual journey of growth and self-discovery that has led me to this moment in time.

My personal belief is that there are angels in the spirit realm.  They are not 'people'.  They are not our deceased loved ones.  Any reference I make to Meghan being an angel is not a literal one.  It is more an appealing to conventional beliefs one.  She is not a true angel.  She is simply a spirit being now.

Angels exude an energy of purity, love and light.  That doesn't mean they always have 'good' news for you.  It just means their purpose is to guide you toward your greatest good, your life's purpose.  To remind you why you are living this earthly life and what your lessons are or could be. You must ask for their guidance, they don't  force things upon you.  You must listen for and to the answer.  You can choose to ignore it, follow the guidance or something in between.  They are not judgmental.  They are messengers of spirit.  Guides along the path of enlightenment.  They encourage you to reject ego and listen to your inner wisdom, your higher self, your soul.  To do that which is right action.  The choice, is yours.

Do they have a negative counterpart?  Sure.  There is balance to everything.  I'm sure there exist 'fallen angels' or those whose energy is lower, darker and lead us to listen to our ego rather than our higher selves and our heart.  Some would say the 'devil' energy. Satan.  You know, those folks who say it's Heaven or Hell.

We always have free will.  We can ask and choose what guidance we want, what we choose to receive and how we choose to use it or not.  We can choose to listen to the negative energy, to bring it into our lives and to put it out to the Universe.  It's not ideal or healthy, but it's a valid choice and many people choose it. Or we can choose love, light, positive energy and focus on the greater good.  Ah, being human has so many perks...

After being interested in understanding the angels and archangels for quite some time, I've been strongly guided that now is the time to follow that calling. I don't know why now is the time, but it is. I've been nurturing my relationship with spirit and the angelic realm.  I am called to using oracle cards as a divination tool.  Both to learn about the angels and to ask for their guidance in my journey in this life.  I've dabbled in playing with the angel cards for years.  I suddenly and quite unexpectedly found myself taking two courses in Angel Oracle and Angel Tarot card reading in the past few weeks.  Completely spontaneously and with great passion.  It was time.  It literally just happened.  I was guided to do it and I did.  Without hesitation.  It feels like the right thing to do.  It didn't  before.  It absolutely does now.  It always fascinates me when that happens.  It's meant to be a tool to share with others.  A way to advance my life's purpose. To be my best self.

I am still learning about the angels and all they have to offer us through their lessons and messages.  I am growing confidence. I am guided to leave this post with a reading.  I ask, what do the angels want my readers to know?

I chose Doreen Virtues Angel Therapy Deck.  The card I drew is called "God Box".

This comes up often.  I think it is something everyone can and should do regardless of personal spiritual or religious belief.  It is a lesson in awareness.  Of letting go.  Of recognizing that which is not serving you for your greater good.

The message is to put your worries and fears in a safe place and let them go.  Ask for help from God or whatever higher power you believe in.  Write them down, make a list and then place it in a special box, burn the list, bury it, place it in  the freezer or otherwise symbolically dissolve those worries and fears away.

Replace them instead with positive affirmations.  What you do want to bring into your life?  What or whom are your prayers for? Focus on manifesting what you want, not what you are afraid of or do not want.  Let go and let love.

Namaste.

Coping with the death of a child and supporting their parents

What happens in the "My Child is Dead" club should be known by everyone in the Universe.  This is not fight club.  This is I can't believe I'm living this nightmare club.

The club shouldn't be a secret.  It shouldn't be hush-hush.  It should be talked about, shared, supported and know across the land. We are hurting.  We need love.  Understanding.  Non-judgmental and unconditional support.  We need to be listened to, not told what to do or how to feel.  We need time.  We need tissues.  We don't need to eat, sleep, 'get over it' or 'move on'.  We don't need to hear how much better off they are, how it was somehow for the best or at least they didn't suffer or are no longer suffering.  WE are suffering.  WE are hurt.  WE need to walk our own road, at our own pace, in our own way. WE will never, ever be the same.  We are not bad, stupid or neglectful parents (though depending on the circumstances of our child's death, some say we are.  I don't have to tell you how painful THAT is).  We are parents who loved our children and now they are gone.  Time may heal, but it doesn't cure.

Joining a club is typically a positive experience, one made voluntarily and with great enthusiasm for the subject. Not so with our club. We are a unique group.  We are the club no one ever wants to belong to.  We are the person you never want to be.  We are the person some of you can't handle being around, because we 'bring you down'.  Because YOU can't deal with our pain.  We have no choice. We are parents who've had to bury our own children.  We didn't expect to join this club and we are beyond pissed that we had no choice but to become a part of it.

To the members of the club who have reached out to me in comments on my blog post about Meghan's Angel day, on her Facebook page and through her Web site, I most sincerely, lovingly and with an open but heavy heart welcome you to the club.  I've heard from so many of you who are also members.  Far more than I ever expected.  Some, very recently have lost your children.  You've lost your unborn babies, infants, toddlers, teenagers or adult children.  They've been lost to cancer, accidents, suicide and medical illness.  None of us ever expected it would happen to us.  Yet here we are.

All of you have commented that in reading my words, you realized you were not alone.  You realized you had similar feelings and experiences  you felt the pain, the guilt and the anger.  Some of you have never shared with anyone how you felt or feel, especially beyond your spouse.  It helped to validate how you felt and that you were not alone. That you were not 'broken'.  You've all done the same for me.  We are bonded in our grief and our love of our children.  Our experiences are different, yet similar.  We walk this road together in spirit.  I've tried to answer you all individually, I'm so sorry if I haven't.  I've read all of your words and said prayers for your children and your families.

This post is for both those who have lost children and those who support them in their loss.  We cannot bring our children back to us in body.  What we can do is honor our feelings, remember them and the joy they brought to our lives, preserve their memory and love them always.  Many of those who lost children or grandchildren, especially recently, have asked how I coped.  Does it ever get better or easier?  Is it a life sentence of guilt, pain and depression?  Will my marriage survive? How am I going to do this?  I hope to help answer some of those questions for you here.

Disclaimer:  This is going to be a long post. Very long.  Although about the loss of a child, much of what I say here is appropriate for any loss of a loved one.

Of course, I can only speak for what I found helpful and that which worked for me.  Know you will find your own ways of coping, processing and integrating your child's death into the rest of your life.  It is my distinct hope that in sharing what I've done the past 8 years to keep Meg's spirit alive in our family, the growth and change her death catalyzed in me and how I've gone through the stages of grief it will help you who is reading this.  Either in your own journey in living your life with a spirit child or in your role supporting a loved one who is.  Please take from this only that which resonates with you and leave the rest.

You already know about my experience of Meghan's Angel Day and how I honor her memory and remember her death ever year.  If you are new here, read my post from December 18th.  You already know about how Meghan's Hope began, what it is and why I devote so much time and energy to educating others about the dangers of furniture tip-over and child safety.  It is how I continue to mother her.  It is how I honor her life and her death.  It is perhaps, her purpose in my life and yours.  In her death, in sharing her story, she has saved thousands of  lives, at least I hope so.  That brings me some peace.  It doesn't lessen the pain of her loss any.

So, what is the experience of losing a child like?  It's a living hell.  You've not known pain until you've held your dead child.  Until you've seen their tiny lifeless body in a casket.  Until you've attended their funeral, buried them and came home without them.  You can never, ever know what it's like unless you've experienced it.  Don't ever pretend to *know* what it's like.  Don't ever say you understand how that person feels unless you've lost a child yourself.  Even then, your experiences and feelings could be very different.  That which comforted you may not provide any comfort and in fact may anger another person.  Please think before you speak.  That is my first piece of advice.

Don't touch their stuff without asking first:  

The day she died, neighbors held vigil at our house.  One of them was a police officer.  He wisely told the women who, in wanting to do something to help, wanted to clean for us.  He told them not to touch anything, the house needed to be exactly as I left it.  They had no idea what or where Meghan's memory would be for me and I needed to have that part of normalcy untouched.  I am so grateful for his words.  I went to that last cup Meghan drank out of in the sink and held it, smelled it, put my lips where hers had been.  If they had washed it, that opportunity to reconnect with one of the last things she touched would have been forever lost.   In a similar story, my mom, in trying to be helpful, vacuumed Meghan's room a few days after she died.  I was pissed.  I never told her.  Sorry, mom.  She vacuumed up bits of Meghan that day.  Her hair, her skin, her smell.  The energy of where she last lay, played, died was disturbed by the vacuum.  I couldn't have known I'd feel that way.  Neither could my mother.  Let it be a lesson, parents, especially mothers need to touch, feel, smell their children.  I sniffed her shoes, her clothes, the floor.  Anyway I could connect with her, I tried.  I still do.

Many people are unsure what to do with their child's room and 'stuff'.  Nothing, until you are ready.  Some people have kept their child's room exactly the way it was left the day they died for decades.  Others tweak it over time.  After about a year, we took Meg's day bed down.  We moved her dresser and I moved my scrapbook and beading supplies into her room.  It's now 'our' space.  Some of her toys are still there and other little bits of her.  Pictures she drew, a box she painted, her hair pretties.  Other things I've packed away and ritualistically go through periodically.  That was what resonated with me.  The windows still bear her finger prints.  The lamp that was on her dresser still has the creased lampshade from when it fell the day she died.  It's a blend of her life, her death and my love for her.  A place for me to be with her, to channel creativity, to meditate to just *be* with her, for it was the last place she was alive in our home and for me, it's sacred.

Don't hound them about eating:

I lost 20 pounds in the two weeks after Meghan died.  I had no appetite.  Everyone told me I *had* to eat.  Fuck that I told them.  I ate enough to survive.  Every person who told me to eat only pissed me off more.  I picked at egg nog, sweets, and pasta.  My go to comfort foods.  I did greatly appreciate the non-stop food train that came to our house for weeks after she died.  That is so helpful. I, nor anyone else in my family, had to worry about cooking or cleaning for weeks.  I'd eat a small bit.  Food arrived, fully prepared, often hot, the containers it arrived in were either disposable or left on the porch the next day to be quietly picked up.  What a Godsend.  Do that.  For weeks, if not months.  There are great services out there like Lostsa Helping Hands and Meal Train to help organize it.  Eventually, I began to eat more.  I slowly regained the weight, but it took years.  I was not overweight to begin with but I was not anorexic.  I just ate a lot less.  I had no appetite.  Depression will do that to you.

Some people will have the opposite reaction.  They'll eat non stop and gain weight.  We all cope differently.  For a time, it's to be expected.  Be sure you get regular health care check ups in that first year.

Sleep may be elusive or all you want to do:

I couldn't sleep.  I later learned I had PTSD.  Every little noise I had to investigate, because I never heard the dresser fall.  I checked on my kids every half hour to be sure they were still breathing.  I'd lie in bed at night, desperate for sleep but unable to.  I closed my eyes and relived everything about her death.  I'd pull the car over frequently to be sure the kids were breathing when driving.  I was afraid to cross railroad tracks. I lived in constant fear of something happening to one of my other kids.  Several people suggested sleeping pills.  I was petrified to do that.  I already had tremendous guilt about not waking up and saving Meghan, the thought of chemically knocking myself out and potentially not hearing something that could save one of my other children was unbearable.  Besides, I don't tolerate medicine in general and I avoid it unless necessary.  It may be very helpful and appropriate for others, it just didn't resonate with me.

How do you prepare for their wake, funeral and burial?

This is really a matter of personal and religious preference.  Some people will choose cremation and a memorial.  Meghan was baptized Catholic.  We chose a one session wake, funeral mass and public commitment ceremony/burial at the cemetery in our town.

We were told to call the local funeral home in town to make arrangements. I called the afternoon she died.  They already knew about her death and were expecting my call. I swear the woman I spoke to was crying as I spoke with her.  We met the next day.  They asked that I bring clothes for Meghan and a blanket of hers.  I chose her favorite outfit.  Pink, sparkly pants with big flowers on them, a pink shirt and her white fleece hoodie with a kitty on it.  Pretties for her hair and pink slippers I had gotten her for Christmas for her feet and of course, pink socks.  I brought the blanket she slept with every night, a pink, flowered fleece blanket.  See a theme here?  :-)   The director explained to us what to expect.  We decided upon calling hours and a time for her funeral.  He helped us to write her obituary.  He called the florist to meet with us that day (it was Sunday) and we arranged a time to pick out a place for her at the cemetery.  We chose a prayer card for the guests of her calling hours.  The entire experience was surreal.  He chose a casket for her.  He simply asked if it was OK if he chose, since there were not many options and he knew how difficult it would be for us to go into *that* room 24 hours after our daughter had died. The one he chose was perfect and beautiful and fit for a little blonde angel.

He called us the next day to let us know she was at the funeral home. Because her death was accidental, an autopsy was required.  So she went from the hospital to the medical examiner and back to the funeral home. He told us we could come see her whenever we wanted to.  We went early the morning of her calling hours with immediate family to see her.  This was so important.  We opted to do it in stages.  Her dad and I saw her first, laid out in the casket.  Then we invited the boys in with us.  Then our parents, siblings and friends in that order.  We took pictures of her that I later scrapbooked.  We had hours to be with her, cry, talk amongst our selves and prepare for the public viewing later that day.   We brought some of her things and pictures to display, my husband made a slide show of pictures of her and our family to be looped, we made a CD of her favorite music to be played in the sound system.  Those who came to pay their respects were probably a bit surprised to hear an array of Disney tunes and Mambo No. 5!  :-)

The calling hours were for 3 hours.  It was non-stop.  We were blown away by those who came.  We stared at her, cried, laughed a bit and comforted our friends and family more than they did us at that point I think.

Her funeral mass was as beautiful as it could be.  I've written about it before, so I won't elaborate here.  We also had it photographed.  You can see it in pictures here with a gorgeous song called 'Visitor From Heaven' Please take a few minutes to watch it, even if you are afraid it will make you cry.  It speaks volumes more than I could ever write.

Innate and mundane stuff will piss you off

You feel as if you are operating in slow motion, everything is foggy.  It's hard to feel anything other than sadness.  If you smile or laugh, you almost feel guilty.  If someone else is smiling or laughing you hate them.  How dare they be happy when you are in so much pain?

You find the mundane things you used to enjoy either don't hold the same appeal or are downright annoying now.  Seeing other children who look similar, act similar or seeing children's things your child would have liked can rip your heart right open.  I can't tell you how many times I'd have something in my hand to buy for Meghan before I realized she was dead, weeks and months after she died.  I couldn't even walk past the little girls clothing section of stores for a year without dissolving into tears and feeling like I got kicked in the gut.

I partially cope with this by purchasing trinkets for Meg's special place at the cemetery, her memorial garden at our home or buying something she'd have loved and donating it to a charity.

Trigger Days and Being Blindsided

There are certain 'trigger days' when you can expect a resurgence of emotion.  They are the difficult days.  The firsts of the first year are usually the most difficult and expected. For a while, for me, it was every Saturday.  Meghan died on a Saturday.  I was hyper-aware of days, times and how it correlated to the day and time of her death and my experiences that day.  Much like a mother remembers her birth story and the birth day of her children, she remembers their death day.  At least I did.

Then it was the 18th of every month.  She died on the 18th.  Even now.  Every 18th day of the month, I think of her angel day.  Now it's nothing more than 'another 18th' without her.  But at first, it was a marker of some kind emotionally and I was more aware and it hurt more on the 18th's.

The big ones of course are holidays, Mother and Father's day, the child's birthday and their death day.  I was surprised how much my own birthday was a trigger for me.  Then there are things like the first day of school or what *should* have been their first day of school.  Going through the milestones of your other children, without the one you lost, wondering what it would be like if they were there for this event, or their own graduations, proms and other rites of passage.  You can prepare for them in some ways, but in others you can't.  I found I dreaded them.  The anticipatory grief was almost worst than the actual grief and pain of the day.

You will be blindsided at times.  You'll think you're fine, having a good day, going about your business, even years later, and then, out of the blue, something will pull at your heartstrings.  A song, a person, something you heard, a child that looks like yours did, it could be anything, anytime and anywhere.  It's to be expected, and even now, 8 years later, it still happens once in a while.  Not nearly as much as it used to, but I expect it will happen forever. For me, a year or so ago, it was a Seventh Generation ad.  There was a little blonde girl wearing a pink shirt looking through a washing machine door.  My heart nearly stopped.  She was a ringer for Meghan! Blew my mind.  Her brother asked how it was possible she was living somewhere else doing magazine ads!

Counseling is helpful, Depression is normal for a time - Please LISTEN 

The loss of a child is up there on the life stress scale.  You have every right to be depressed and for the better part of the first year.  It's an expected grief reaction.  It's not something you get over.  There is help out there.  The Compassionate Friends is a bereavement support group especially for parents who have lost a child of any age.  They have a wonderful Web site and local chapters that offer support meetings. There is a national conference every year and a walk to remember, where walkers carry the name of your child.  This year it is in Boston.  They sponsor a candle lighting memorial around the world in memory of the children gone too soon so that 'their light will always shine' on the second Sunday of December.  I can't recommend them enough.  For parents, siblings, grandparents and friends.

Grief counseling is tremendously beneficial.  It can help you express and validate your feelings.  Help you navigate and process grief.  It's a process.  Many people find it helpful.  I did.  Sometimes, anti-depressant medication is helpful, too.  I strongly recommend it be used together with talk therapy.  Far too many primary care physicians are willing to write prescriptions without understanding why that person is requesting or needing them and without appropriate follow up.

As a friend, offer to listen.  Give them permission to call you anytime, anywhere, for any reason.  You may hear the same thing over and over.  Listen.  Only offer your opinion or advice if they ask for it, especially initially.  Hug.  Say I'm sorry.  Be there.  Offer to help by doing housework, shopping, cooking, errands.  Don't be afraid to say their child's name, ask what they are thinking or how they are feeling.  It's ok to cry, yourself.

How do you answer the question, "How many children do you have"?

It may well depend on the day, how you are feeling and who is asking.  In the first few weeks after she died, I'd just cry if anyone asked.  Avoiding human interaction was my chosen coping strategy at the time with anyone who didn't already know.  Thankfully, I'm pretty well connected with some pretty amazing people, so I had a lot of support and understanding around me.

Many people don't acknowledge to strangers that they've lost a child.  It may be too painful to say out loud or, many of us simply don't want to have to deal with the person who is asking's discomfort at our answer.  It can be emotionally exhausting to deal with the fallout of such an unexpectedly loaded question for both parties.  I think that's unfortunate.  Our children's life and death both deserve to be acknowledged.

In my professional bio, I say that I am the mother of 3.  Two boys who walk this earth with me, and a daughter who flies with the angels.  Most of the time, when asked, I say I have 3 children and leave it at that.  What if they ask a more specific question, like how old are they or are they boys or girls?  Then, I typically say I have 2 sons and a daughter.  I often elaborate on my own and say my youngest son and my daughter are twins, but she died when she was 3 and give the current ages of the boys, because, well, at that point, full disclosure is easier.  You'd be surprised how expressions change and that abruptly ends the discussion.  Some say nothing.  That hurts the most.  Some say they are sorry.  I appreciate that.  Some ask how she died.  I tell them.  They are often moved to tears.  Sometimes, it provides an opportunity for discussion about safety. Sometimes, I end up comforting them.

Some relationships will change

Death has a way of showing you who your true friends are in life.  There are those that are there for you when it's sunny, but it's those who can sit with you through the storms, through the flood of tears, the violent tornadic winds of emotion and offer you a life preserver of unconditional and non-judgmental support that are your true friends.

Family and friends will all cope differently.  Some cope by not coping at all.  They avoid contact with you.  They don't want to talk about your dead child.  They dive into their work or hobbies.  They become 'busy' and unavailable.  You may find that fundamental differences can no longer be dealt with.  Some people you were once close to may drift away and those relationships may end.  Others may become closer and stronger.  New relationships will blossom, perhaps with those who've had a similar loss or experience.

I lost some really good friends after Meghan died.  Some family members became closer, others more distant. I found some new, really amazing friends.  I am grateful for all of them and what they brought to my life in the time they were an active part of it.

People often ask me about their marriage.  Will our marriage survive?  I don't know the statistics.  I do know nationally, the divorce rate is over 50%.  Whether or not your marriage may survive may well depend on how that child died, if blame is placed on the other parent or if  there was already animosity in your relationship.  If your marriage was anything but perfect before your child died, it's going to take a lot of work and understanding to weather the storm of losing a child.  It will take open and honest communication, understanding, perhaps some individual and couples counseling and tincture of time.  Be gentle with each other.  Be honest with each other.  Talk.  It may actually make your marriage stronger.  It may not.  The general advice is not to make any drastic changes for at least a year after the loss of a child because it takes time to process the grief.

My marriage did not survive.  It's a long and personal story and not one I have the intent of ever sharing in a public forum.  Suffice it to say that our marriage was in trouble before Meghan died.  Her death certainly did not help that at all.  There were fundamental reasons why our marriage failed.  It was NOT because Meghan died.  Her death did catalyze a tremendous change in me, my beliefs and my view on life.  The decision to end my marriage was not made lightly, but it was, in the end, the best thing for all of us.

And for those who asked, I recently re-married.  I, of course, never expected to marry again.  In a twist of fate and the way the Universe works is amazing way, he was actually at Meghan's wake.  He was a friend of my sister's, although I did not know him until years later.  He had also seen her alive, a year before, at my sister's wedding.  He is now the proud step-dad of an angel.  He spoke of her in his wedding vows to me.  Not a dry eye in the house...

What about 'signs'

Yes.  I absolutely believe in signs.  This could be, and probably will be at some point, a post in and of itself.  I am highly intuitive and clairsentient and somewhat clairvoyant.  I always have been and sometimes it scares the hell out of me.  I have felt Meghan's presence, that of other deceased loved ones, and in my work the presence of the deceased loved ones of my patients when they are near death themselves.  I've been introduced to many who have crossed over by their still living loved ones in the hours and days before they themselves died.

I have only 'seen' Meghan in spirit once.  The night she died, in my grandmother's arms.  Truth be told, part of me really wants to see her in spirit and part of me is afraid.  Probably why I haven't seen her since.  Her twin used to see her all the time.  He talked to her and played with her.  He still gives me messages from her.

I've had many experiences of signs from Meghan. Details of which I'll save for another time and place, but the thing I see the most are heart clouds in the sky.  There is an album of some of my favorites on her Facebook page.  This one was at her brother's soccer game, near their birthday.

Ways to preserve the memory and creating new traditions

This is a very personal thing.  Here is a list of some of the things I have done or that people have done for me that I loved.

• A gift made of hand or foot prints.  We have the ones given to us by the ER nurses, I made reverse molds of the plaster heart hand and foot prints and gave them to family as ornaments.  Another person made a stained glass plate of her hand/foot prints for us
• Jewelry for mom:  I was given a mother and child necklace, several bracelets with Meghan's name,  a tiny tag necklace with the names of ALL my children, and lots of angel pins. My all time favorite piece is a pin made from one of her last drawings, given to me by a good friend.  We refer to it as 'potato Duncan'.   Another one of my favorite pieces is an angel wing necklace.  They are called Brooke's angel wings and Brooke is the survivor of a head injury from a furniture tip-over.  Her and her mom now make these necklaces to raise awareness and funds to pay for her medical bills.  http://www.brookesangelwings.com/
• House decor - we received lots of angels.  They are all over the house.
• Keepsake gifts. I scrapbook.  My scrapbook friends made a Tinkerbell pink picture frame of Meghan and wrote a poem inspired by a finger painting her brother had done after she died.  I'm looking at it right now.  Another friend made me a scrapbook page about Meghan and another an entire scrapbook about her. 
• Pictures - there are pictures of Meghan all over the house.  In her room.  Pictures of her with her brothers in their rooms.  I made both of her brothers a small scrapbook album of just pictures of them with their sister.
• Ornaments - every year, Santa leaves a Tinkerbell ornament in her stocking.  Her twin usually hangs it on the tree.  This year, it jumped off the tree and shattered.  Instead of getting upset, we laughed and said, "Oh, hi Meggie!  Guess you didn't like that one." 
• A memorial garden - I have one area that is a Meggie garden.  Pink roses, a butterfly bush, kitty garden statues and Tinkerbell decor abound.  
• Personalize their cemetery plot:  if your cemetery allows, make it about the child.  We chose her stone carefully.  We choose flowers in colors she'd like.  There are always kitty and Tinkerbell trinkets.  We bring new decor now and then.  Bird feeders and colorful twirly things in the summer time.  A pink tree at Christmas.  A bunny and a basket of eggs at Easter.  A kitty pumpkin at Halloween.  You get the idea.  
• Celebrate their birth day:  Meg was a twin, so we still celebrate her brother's birthday every year.  It is exquisitely painful to me on this day, probably the second hardest day of the year for me, because I see one where two should always have been. I bring her flowers and a balloon.  Every year since Meg died, we have a family cupcake picnic at the cemetery on their birthday.  We sing happy "bird" day with a suet cake.  We eat our cupcakes. We blow some pixie dust to the heavens and then we run around sill,y just like she used to, and sing "Tinkerbell all the way".  Anyone else at the cemetery that day thinks we're nuts.  We don't care.  It's about Meg, remembering and celebrating HER essence, her joy, her spunky-ness.  What better way than to emulate her?
• Gifts of honor - I received many notices of masses in Meg's honor, memorial candles with her prayer card on them, a tree planted in the Children's Forest in Israel, donations made in her memory to charitable organizations and especially to the Sterling Animal Shelter, where they received so many donations, they renovated their kitty adoption area and named it after Meghan.  
• Quilt:  I wanted to have a quilt made of some of Meghan's clothes.  Someone quickly volunteered.  Although I hated to part with that box of clothes, the gift I received in return is beautiful and now I can wrap myself in her in a way.  I can tell you what every scrap was from and what I or she loved about each item.  

•  Incorporate their life into yours:  Perhaps this is best noted as how I involved Meghan in my wedding day.  We had a chair for her.  I had a tiny picture of her on my bouquet.  We had her special candle centerpiece that we lit as we said the '5 candles' poem.  We had a memorial slide show. 
• 
• 

Perhaps the greatest gift you can give someone who has lost their child is remembering them out loud.  Say their name.  Talk about what you loved about them.  What you remember about them.  Send a card every year on their birthday, their angel day, Mother and Father's day.  Let them know you are thinking of them. That you know it's a difficult day for you, even if it's years and years later.  I promise you, their parents are already thinking of them.  To know their child was not forgotten is the best gift.

Specific to Meghan, the greatest gift I can receive now is the sharing of her story.

If you are a parent who has lost a child, the greatest gift you can give yourself is patience.  Allow yourself to feel what you feel.  Know it's a process.  Connect with those who you feel called to.  Be gentle with yourself.  Know your child's spirit and light will always live in your heart.  Let it shine!

I could write so much more, and will someday.  Hopefully this has been helpful on some level.

Wishing love, light and peace to all of those who have lost a child, a loved one or are supporting someone who has.