A Stillborn Baby and the Fathers in Her Life

By Monica Novak -

When I was a child, I prided myself on making the best homemade cards to show my parents how important they were to me.  Father’s Day was probably the Big Kahuna of cardmaking for me because in the eyes of this little girl, Daddy was king.  He was the one whose side I sat by for all those workbench projects, eagerly waiting to hand over a tool.  And he was the one whose shoulder I cried on during the disappointments and heartbreaks of life.  Somehow, Dad was always able to make it feel better and bring a smile to my face.

But 1995 would demand something different from all the fathers in my life.  Just one day after a large family Father’s Day celebration which included my husband, Al-the father of our 2-year-old and another baby due that same week-my father, Terry, and my grandfather, “Papa”, our daughter Miranda was delivered stillborn, suddenly throwing the order of life upside down.  How would these men respond to something so tragic and so completely out of their control?

In the hours surrounding the news of our baby’s in-utero death and her delivery, Al and I clung to each other sobbing and saying goodbye to Miranda.  I had never seen him cry before and have never seen him cry since her memorial service held four days later.  Although I carried her for nine months, I knew he loved her just as deeply as I did, writing this poem for Alex, our 2-year-old daughter, (something I had never known him to do) as one of the ways he struggled to come to terms with what was happening.

Usually when I walk into a room, everyone calls my name and wants to play.

            Not today.

            Everyone is sad.

Why is everyone so sad?

Did everyone get an “owie”?

            Or maybe they have to go to bed early.

            Now, that is sad.

Mommy is in a funny bed and will not hold me.

            She’s not talking very loud.

            She’s sad.

                        Why is everyone so sad?

I woke up today at Grandma & Grandpa’s house.

            That was nice, but why am I here?

            They’re sad.

Why is everyone so sad?

Daddy holds me extra tight and kisses me a lot.

            His tears fall into my hair.

            He is sad.

Why is everyone so sad?

Mommy’s tummy is not big anymore.

            Where’s the baby she said was in there?

            Now I’m sad.

I guess it’s okay to be sad.

My father and mother were there with me in the hospital at a critical moment as I made the difficult decision to ask for Miranda’s body to be brought to me again.  “I really miss her.  I didn’t get to spend enough time with her,” I cried.  “Why don’t you call Candy to bring her up?” Dad said.  “This might be your last chance.  We’ll be here with you.”

A few minutes later, nurse Candy came in pushing a bassinet.  Trembling, I watched the small round figure move towards me, wrapped in a receiving blanket and wearing a tiny white hat with a pink ball on top, just like the one Alex wore the day she was born.  She warned me that Miranda was still cold, but would warm up a bit.  She carefully picked her up, laid her in my arms and then slipped out of the room. 

“Oh, my poor baby.  Why couldn’t you have held on a little longer?” I asked her, rocking back and forth.  My mom and dad sat on each side of my bed, wrapping their arms around me and Miranda.  “It hurts so much,” I cried out loud.  My dad hugged me tighter.  “I wish I could take the hurt away, but I can’t, so I’ll just cry with you,” he said in my ear.

My Papa, always a source of upliftment and joy, was there for me at the memorial service with a smile on his face, one of his special hugs, and a twinkle in his blue eyes.  After the service, as we walked down the stairs and headed for our cars, I was unaware that my 89-year-old grandfather had walked out behind me, crying uncontrollably.  I had never seen Papa cry and I suppose he wanted to keep it that way.

Papa was a veteran of this thing called death.  His mother died when he was six, he lived through the Great Depression, countless wars, and at his age, had buried enough family and friends to fill a cemetery; attending a funeral was a weekly event for him, yet here he was sobbing for a little baby girl he’d never laid eyes on.

Miranda would be turning fourteen this June 20^th, one day before Father’s Day.  Through the years, these three fathers haven’t talked about her as much as I, my daughters, and the women in my life have, but I know they hold her in their hearts.

Every year when we would sing Happy Birthday to Miranda with our three daughters, I never really knew what Al was thinking or feeling as his face intently watched the girls, but suspected he was silently communing with his fourth daughter who never got to call him Daddy or make him a Father’s Day card.

Then, a few years ago I came across a copy of a letter Al had written to a group of men he had just befriended on a Christian men’s retreat.  He talked about losing his daughter Miranda, and how he never doubted that God was with him during that time, and that somehow he kept his faith.  He felt that he was being called to be a strong-willed man who could offer comfort to others in need.  I think he was, in his own way, acknowledging that Miranda had helped her Dad to grow and realize what he was capable of.

Sometime shortly after Miranda’s death, my dad put together a framed copy of a quote he had read in When Hello Means Goodbye, the booklet I was given in the hospital.  Amidst the photos on his desk of all his grandkids sits a black 8×10 framed print that reads:

Miranda Blair Novak

June 20^th 1995

Hold Close These Moments For We Shall Always Live By Remembering

He later told me that he realized early on he could not let this little girl get out of his mind and has looked at her name every day for fourteen years.  Just this weekend it occurred to him to ask me for her picture so his collection of the grandkid photos would be complete.

Two years after Miranda died, my Papa made his transition from this life.  Since then, several spiritual teachers have told me and my mother on separate occasions that they see a man fitting the description of my Papa holding hands with a young brown-haired girl wearing a dress.  My mother has had the same dream about Papa and Miranda.  And in both the visions and the dreams, the two are smiling and dancing joyfully.

Though Miranda’s physical presence was here for but a moment, the spirit of a daughter, granddaughter, and great-granddaughter lives on in the hearts of the dads who love her, and through them makes this world a better place.

Portions of this article were excerpted from The Good Grief Club: A True Story About the Power of Friendship and French Toast.

Monica Novak is the author of The Good Grief Club, a memoir about her friendships with six other women that carried them through the ups and downs of grief following the loss of their babies in miscarriage, stillbirth, and infant death.  She also serves as editor of Open to Hope’s Pregnancy and Infant Loss page at www.opentohopepregnancyloss.com .  For more information about her book, and for pregnancy loss and infant death resources, please visit her website at www.thegoodgriefclub.com or e-mail her at monica@thegoodgriefclub.com.

Suggestions for a Well-Deserved Mother’s and Father’s Day

By Cathi Lammert -

Often times Mother’s Day and Father’s Day are two of the most difficult days for bereaved parents. Some have told me that these days are so painful that they are not able to even acknowledge it for their own mom or dad, and they celebrate with their parents on a different day. Over the years, parents have looked at me with tear-filled eyes and asked me “Am I really a parent if my baby is not here with me?”

I equate parenthood with love; the greatest kind of love. Does love stop when a baby dies? Of course not! You will always be your child/ren’s parent. No one can take this role away from you.

You may question whether you have the right to celebrate or be remembered on these days, but a parent’s love needs to be acknowledged and celebrated. If you can’t imagine joining the rest of the world in the typical activities of celebration, do something different or not at all. But also know, that even without your precious baby in your arms, you are parents and parenthood can be celebrated as you choose. Whatever you choose to do on these days, know that it is okay if it feels right to you.

The following suggestions are some ways to celebrate your parenthood on these difficult days:

* Acknowledge that you are parents.

* Be gentle with yourselves. Do only what you can handle. 

*Acknowledge that this day could be difficult and determine how you can comfortably spend the day.

*Alert yourself to the most difficult challenges of the day, such as attention given to moms and dads at church. Some parents have talked to their clergy about the importance of recognizing all parents at these celebrations.

*Family gatherings may make you feel uncomfortable. Discuss this with your family and let them know that you appreciate their love and support, but that you may not be able to attend or manage your composure throughout the entire day. Assure them that these feelings will not be forever.

*Plan ahead. Waiting until the last minute can cause frustration and hurt feelings.

*Share with family and friends how they can help make your day a special one. Sometimes they need specific suggestions, such as sending you a card, flowers, or a donation to Share or another favorite charity in your baby’s name.

*Treat yourselves to a special gift, an outing, or flowers. Send each other cards for these special days.

*Remember your baby by lighting a candle, placing a rose on the alter or dinner table, or planting a tree or bush.

It is important to tell others what you need. Do not assume that everyone will be aware of how you are feeling on these days. Being aware in advance that certain situations may be difficult, such as family gatherings or church services, allows you the opportunity to plan accordingly. If you’ve been asked to do something that makes you uncomfortable, listen to your heart. For some, spending the day in bed with the covers pulled up, or on the couch watching movies, might be the right thing. Be sensitive to your own feelings and needs, and above all, know that you are parents.

Cathi Lammert, R.N., is Executive Director of the National Office of SHARE Pregnancy and Infant Loss Support, Inc. www.nationalshare.org.  As a bereaved parent, Cathi combines her personal experience with her education and professional background as an obstetrical nurse. Her son, Christopher Michael lived just 4 days and died due to Hydrops Fetalis, a complication of Rh sensitization.  Cathi was a guest on the radio show Healing the Grieving Heart with Dr. Gloria & Dr. Heidi Horsley, to discuss Finding Help and Hope After Pregnancy Loss.  To hear Cathi being interviewed on this show, click on the following link:  www.voiceamericapd.com/health/010157/horsley011509.mp3  For more information, you can e-mail Cathi at:  clammert@nationalshare.org

Mother’s Day Flowers

By Beth Seyda -

It was back in 1998 that I was finally eligible to celebrate my first Mother’s Day.  Our first child, Dylan, had been born in the fall of 1997 after many years of fertility issues.  But when that May holiday came around, one that I had longed to be a part of, it was a bitter-sweet day.  Yes, I was a mother, but now without a child.  Our sweet baby lived for only two weeks in the neonatal intensive care unit and died peacefully in our arms. 

I struggled that first Mother’s Day - I wanted to celebrate, I had been so happy being a mom to Dylan while I was pregnant with him and during his brief life.  I wanted to honor our mother-son relationship, even though the pain from the loss was still palpable. 

I recalled how others had supported us and what I found comforting.  Family and friends had given us numerous plants, bushes, and flowers in memory of Dylan which were growing outside in our front and back yards.  It’s an understatement that I do not have a green thumb, so I welcomed the beautiful daffodils, crocus, azalea and butterfly bushes that were now blooming.  I loved being outdoors and admiring Mother Nature’s miracles.  With Dylan’s birth and death occurring only weeks from each other, being reminded of the circle of life connected with me.

So, on my first Mother’s Day I started what has become an annual ritual: planting flowers (usually hardy geraniums) in clay pots that adorn our back deck.  Getting my hands into the dirt and helping these flowers take root and thrive continue to be healing as I reflect upon how Dylan nourished my soul and helped me become a mom. 

There were many tears as I planted flowers those first Mother’s Days.  But it always brought me such joy to see the fruits of my labors as the spring unfolded into summer and fall, and as I watched hummingbirds gather nectar from these flowers. 

Now, many years later and mother to 7-year old Tyler, this Mother’s Day I will once again be out on our deck planting flowers - proudly and gratefully remembering all our children. 

Beth Seyda’s life was transformed in 1997 with the birth and death of her critically ill newborn son, Dylan.  She combines her 25+ years of professional experience in consumer research with her personal experience as Co-Founder and Executive Director of Compassionate Passages, Inc. The mission of her non-profit organization is to give a voice to pediatric patients and their families through advocacy, education, and research with the goal of improving pediatric end-of-life care and providing support to dying children and their families.  Compassionate Passages donates the book Empty Cradle, Broken Heart: Surviving the Death of Your Baby to bereaved families. 

Beth lives in Chapel Hill, N.C., with her husband, Mark, and their 7-year old son, Tyler.  To learn more about Beth’s non-profit organization, go to: www.compassionatepassages.org

How Will You Remember Your Loved One?

by Carol O’Dell -

We avoid thinking about or dealing with death at every turn. Even caregivers who are caring for their aging parents try not to think about the inevitable end. Cancer, Alzheimer’s, heart disease, stroke, diabetes, combined with age will eventually claim the lives of those we love. And sadly, by not fully anticipating and participating in this momentous event, we’re left scared, in doubt, and not knowing how to die-or be with someone we love when the time comes.

Who will teach us? How will we learn?

I recently interviewed Rachel, a young mother in my community who experienced a tragedy-she lost her two year old little boy, Tyler, in a swimming pool accident.

As I sat with Rachel and listened to her story, I immediately sensed she had wisdom and insight well beyond her years. She’s handled grief with grace, forgiveness, and determination. My own worries seemed insignificant.

Rachel’s story got me to thinking. How will we remember our loved ones? What memorial, statue, headstone or story will honor those who have touched our lives?

While I have nothing against cremation, sometimes people need a place to go-it’s important to create a sanctuary or sorts-a place to be, to pray, to think and meditate. A place to remember.

My Daddy is buried in Atlanta, and so this Father’s Day, I’ve had to create a new place for “us” to meet and talk.

I like to spend a few minutes catching up with my daddy about my life. I have a bench overlooking a lake in my backyard. He would have liked it here. He loved to sit outside and talk. That’s where I’m headed this Sunday.

I’m including an article I recently wrote about Rachel and a place of remembrance for all those who have lost someone they love. As you read her remarkable story, I’m sure you’ll agree-we can all learn from her-how to love, and how to hope again.

Angels Among Us

There’s an angel on Amelia Island. The childlike face lifts toward the sky, arms outstretched as though holding something invisible, and bronzed wings gleam against the stark Florida sun. The inscription at the bottom of the statue reads, “Angel of Hope.” It is encircled by a short brick wall and eight benches for seating with a loved one’s name on each one. I found this “Angel of Hope” one afternoon on a photography/bike trek around the island.

I stopped to take a picture and began to read the inscription on the back of the statue: “The Christmas Box Angel,” and I thought of Richard Paul Evans’ book, The Christmas Box, about a woman who mourns the loss of her child and finds comfort at the base of an angel monument.

At the base of the angel I read, “For all the children” and began to put it together-the benches, the names, the stones lined up at the base, the bouquet of flowers indicating someone had been here. 

This angel is a place of remembrance for families who have lost a child. It’s a sacred gift given by other bereaved parents and is available to anyone who would like to come, sit, and remember. 

I thought of Tyler, a purely sweet loving laid-back two-year old with beautiful big brown eyes, the son of Rachel and Patrick Pennewell. I remembered the day I found out Tyler had suffered a swimming pool accident.

Rachel, his mother told me, “Tyler was our angel. He had a purpose in being here. Sometimes I would just look at him. He was such a calm, knowing soul, and I’d wonder, you know something, don’t you? Some things he understood here on earth.”

After Tyler’s passing, Rachel and Patrick found the community of Nassau to be their angels who sustained them in those early weeks and months when shock turned to grief. 

“I’ll never be able to thank the people at our church and in our community for all they did. How can I ever show them what this meant to us?”

Rachel said it’s so important for bereaved parents to find ways to give back because, “What else can we do? You don’t stop being a parent. You have to find a way to give, and in that giving, your child lives on.”

I asked Rachel how she got to a place of peace.

“Tyler’s life completely transformed the way I saw myself, and that lives on today. He brought such peace into my life, from the moment of conception on; it was as if he had a mission. Patrick and I now have a second child, Hannah, Tyler’s little sister. I promise, Tyler helped pick her out. In so many ways, he’s still with us. He’ll always be with us.”

As I stand in this circle and read the names on each of the benches that surround this angel, I wonder who each one of them are, what their stories are, because it’s our stories that connect us-not the how did-he-die stories-but the deeper question: how did he live?

This Amelia angel creates a circle of hope; the hope and belief that each child’s life, no matter how short of a time they spent on earth, is a gift. If you look closely at the angel’s right wing, you will see the word “hope.”

The golden moments in the stream of life rush past us

 and we see nothing but sand;

the angels come to visit us,

and we only know them when they are gone. 

                                                                                                          ~George Elliot

Christmas Box Angels are erected in more than 25 other communities around the world.  http://www.richardpaulevans.com/statue.html

If you’d like to view a photograph of this statue, it’s posted on my website at http://home.comcast.net/~cdodell/ (www.mothering-mother.com) on the Caregiving Tips page.

~Carol D. O’Dell

Author of Mothering Mother: A Daughter’s Humorous and Heartbreaking Memoir available on Amazon

www.mothering-mother.com

New Year Offers a Chance to Start Fresh

By Mary Jane Hurley Brant – When we have lost someone we love we want to feel some hope again. I have faith in the healing process and I welcome 2009 with open arms and yes, hope for healing, too. But I’m not just hoping. I’ve done my homework too. I’ve reflected back on the previous year and absorbed the lessons that it had to offer.  Mythological history offers us advice in that regard.  For example, look at Janus, the Roman god of beginnings. He had a psychological mind-set that allowed him to look both backwards and forwards at the same time. Can we do that after loss?  Yes, we absolutely can; we can take the information learned from the previous year of living with loss, integrate it to become more conscious, and subsequently grow and evolve in body, mind and spirit. Let me offer you, my friends, some ways to greet 2009 with renewed compassion and hope after loss for your body, your mind and your spirit. For Your Body ~ First let’s have a definition of compassion. It is simply an awareness of ours or another’s suffering and the willingness to work toward alleviating it. Have you treated your body with compassion?  If in the previous year you starved yourself or feed yourself more salt, sugar, fat and alcohol than your body needed, you have an opportunity to rectify that now.  I like to ask myself, compassionately, “What are you really hungry for MJ; what are you really starving for?”  If it’s love, I seek loving people to connect with: those people who are affectionate in speech, touch and behavior.  If I’m hungry for laughter, I seek funny, witty people so I can laugh and play, too.  If I need intellectual food, I find those others who also enjoy that source of nourishment. Also ask yourself if you are giving your body the proper rest it needs to repair and rejuvenate, particularly when you have suffered the loss of someone that you love.  Be mindful of overworking your body; it is your temple. For Your Mind~ Have you treated your mind with compassion?  When others ask you to do something that you don’t want to do, how often do you say “yes,” then feel resentful afterward?  How about if you always say “no” no matter what someone asks of you, and then wonder why no one calls you anymore? After a loss, this is particularly important to pay attention to. Compassion for your mind is opening up your thinking to new ways of being, new ways of responding to others. This is where the Janus looking back helps because if you were raised with many restrictions, you may fall into saying no more often than responding yes.  On the other hand, those raised to please everyone often automatically respond with a yes response which will eventually burn you out and your body is already tired after you have experienced a loss. Also, when you have lost a loved one, or your job, or your health, or your closest relationship, or the loss of the life you thought that you would have, this time of year can be more painful and lonely. Now is the right time to extend the hand of compassion to your beautiful mind by touching it with the words of sages and saints, the biographies of inspirational people, the Bible, the Torah, the Koran, the Bhagavad-Gita, and the Buddha-Dharma. Or consider watching programs and movies about those souls who have met overwhelming adversary and treated that imposter no different than they would treat a friend. For Your Spirit~ Have you treated your spirit with compassion?  Reflect now, for in this New Year your spirit is searching more overtly for answers so indulge your seeker self.  Walk a labyrinth, a beautiful figuration and a sacred pathway.  As you walk, pray, breathe, meditate. When we have had a loss, we need to ask ourselves what loving or knowing this other person gave to us.  That’s reflective; that’s looking back.  In this way you will be as Janus and this thoughtful exercise will enable you to look toward your future with some hope.  I regard everyone and every situation in my life as a teacher - positive or negative.  It has helped me to learn what to be and what not to be in this regard.  It has shown me that most people do the best that they can given their experiences, their genes, their consciousness, and their personal gifts.  It has also taught me the value of being grateful for everything that I have. So as 2009 begins, remember Janus!  Remember to look backward because it will assist you in looking forward and bring deeper meaning to your life. It will absolutely give you another chance to begin anew and make every day matter. Mary Jane Hurley Brant, M.S.,CGP is a practicing psychotherapist for 29 years available in person or by telephone.  Her book, When Every Day Matters: A Mother’s Memoir on Love, Loss and Life (Simple Abundance Press, Oct. 2008) is available at her website www.WhenEveryDayMatters.com or on http://www.Amazon.com This article first appeared on http://www.opentohope.com

How to Survive the Holidays - Tips For Grievers

By Sandy Clendenen - The holidays can be a very difficult time for those who are grieving. The holidays are all about spending time with family and friends. The holidays are all about traditions such as special meals or special trips or special gifting rituals or special gatherings. I remember my first holiday season after I lost my husband. I went away to be with family, but it felt like I was in the wrong place. I felt so conflicted that I actually developed a bad cold. With senses numb from sneezing and coughing, the days somehow seemed more manageable. I think many grievers become overwhelmed with conflicting feelings during the holidays. Questions arise about how to best cope during this festive season when you are not feeling festive. TIPS: 1) Be honest with yourself. Your loved one is gone physically. Acknowledge that no matter what you do, things won’t be the same. I believe that this acknowledgment can really help alleviate confusion and frustration. 2) Decide to take control of your participation in holiday events. Ask yourself if you want to continue with previous traditions. And if you do, be clear about the reasons you want to continue with these traditions. You have lost your loved one. You had no control over that, but you do have control over how you choose to spend your holiday. 3) Consider volunteering at a shelter or soup kitchen. Sometimes a few hours spent helping others can really help alleviate feelings of sadness and loss. 4) Consider some different holiday options. If you have always stayed home, go visit a friend or take a road trip or go hiking. While the holidays can be a difficult time for grievers, they can also be a time to really review what is important in your life. Writing about your feelings can be a very informative and empowering experience. If you don’t already journal, pick up a blank notebook at your office supply store and just begin writing about your feelings regarding the holidays and holiday traditions. Writing causes thinking. Your inner wisdom will guide you as you allow the writing process to unfold. As you become clearer about your feelings you will begin to feel a sense of inner empowerment. This feeling of empowerment is one of the transformative gifts that can unfold through the grieving process. Consider your options. As you begin to discover your options and realize that you do have choices, the holidays can afford you the opportunity to see more deeply into your own identity as a griever, but also as someone who is moving through and beyond your grief. Sandy Clendenen provides resources and services to empower widows who are feeling stuck in their grief to move beyond grief and into the new life they deserve to live. For more information, please go to http://movebeyondgrief.com or http://howtohealgrief.com Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/?expert=Sandy_Clendenen

Five Tips For Grievers During the Holidays

By Jane Galbraith — The first Christmas without my mother was agony. Actually the month before was probably worse than the day itself. Because my mother had been sick between December 6 and January 11, I relived the whole month, which included Christmas and New Year’s Day. I tried to do things that I had done with my mother in hopes of making everything ”all right”. But of course, it would never be the same. Grief causes physical and emotional pain. Baby Boomers have come to expect instant pain relief in this fast paced society. Unfortunately, Baby Boomers will be facing this chapter in their lives in a culture that does not give grief the respect or validation it deserves. Grief is an emotion that our society does not want to discuss. We have been inundated with expressions such as “get on with life” and “closure” and “getting back to normal”. None of these expressions or attitudes helps the grief stricken. The holidays create even more pain to those grieving. They are a painful reminder of those who are no longer in our lives on a daily basis. What should be a festive and happy time does not feel like it for the grief stricken. There is an enormous amount of pressure to act “normal” during these holiday times. This seems like an insurmountable task at this time. It is exhausting. Here are some things that may help you get through these difficult situations: Give yourself permission to feel whatever it is you feel. If journaling or using a support group or special person generally helps, then make sure you take advantage of them during holiday times. Keep up any traditions that the deceased person started and you can continue. It helps you feel you are honouring the deceased. Try to establish new traditions that make you and your family feel good about the holiday or include activities you enjoy. Talk about your loved one with friends and family and encourage them to share favorite stories with you. Take care of yourself during this stressful time. Anything that makes you feel better should be done. This could be a long walk, massage, listening to music and getting enough sleep. Holidays are a difficult time but there are ways to get through them without hiding from the pain. Even though the holidays may not be as celebratory as last year, the days pass and you do survive!!! Jane Galbraith, BScN, R.N., is the author of “Baby Boomers Face Grief - Survival andRecovery”. Her work in the community health field included dealing with palliative clients and their bereaved families and has also assisted facilitating grief support groups. She speaks to many organizations about the subject. Her book is available through the author directly at jane.galbraith@sympatico.ca or www.amazon.ca. More information about the book can be found at www.trafford.com/05-2319. © 2008 Jane Galbraith

Managing Holiday Grief & Loss

By Mary Jane Hurley Brant, M.S.,CGP -  The holidays have arrived. Normally they are a time for family fun and celebration but when you are grieving the loss of someone who has died, the season is different: it is painful.  Grieving is a long process. It takes time to heal the loss of a loved one. When we are grieving we can feel completely overwhelmed with sadness; overwhelmed with missing the beloved person who has gone and we long for them. We think we will not survive. So we ask ourself, "How can I make it through these days?" Here are some thoughts that have helped me. Maybe they can help you. For Your Body ~ Rest - Your body has experienced loss. It is exhausted. Take a nap when you can. Walk in the sunshine every day, even 15 minutes will help to elevate endorphins. Take some baths instead of quick showers. Eat nourishing foods like a delicious soup and a slice of warm whole grained bread. Limit your sugar, caffeine and alcohol; they affect mood. Drink generous quantities of water; it restores energy. Get a back massage; it lessens the stress lodged in our muscles. Get and give as many hugs as you can; touch heals. Stroke your pet; it calms the body. Pray, meditate, breathe deeply, practice yoga, and exercise; it brings you home to yourself. For Your Mind ~ Start a new tradition - If you don't have small children to attend to, simplify the decorations - an aromatic wreath on your front door and bakery purchased cookies are more than enough. Keep these days simple and peaceful: if you always prepared a big sit-down meal, have a little brunch instead. Carve out some time for yourself such as an overnight to the beach or the mountains with your prayers, your journal, your favorite inspirational books and your music. I browse the shelves of our local library; it is calming for me. If being around other people helps, seek them; people like to be asked for help; it makes them feel useful when they don't know how to help. Watch any movie that makes you laugh; you need to help your process along. Lastly, find a person to share your sorrow with whether a friend, a spouse, a minister, a priest, a rabbi, a clergyman, or a counselor. For Your Spirit ~ First, give compassion to yourself. Remind yourself that you did a good job loving the departed person and trust they are now safe and free. Second, be around those people whom you love and who love you; they will soothe your weary soul. But remember, you are vulnerable now and a remark from an insensitive person will injure you as never before. Attend church, or synagogue, or temple and pray for the departed, for yourself and your family. Pray for peace, pray for faith, pray for grace, pray for forgiveness. Have a small ritual that not only acknowledges the continued spiritual presence of the deceased but a ritual that you know would make them happy, too. An idea to celebrate the person that you have lost during the season would be to get every member of the family together and bake their favorite cake, pie or cookies then sit down with tea or hot chocolate or cold milk and share happy holiday memories. Maybe family photos or mementos could be brought out. Tears may come but let them; they open up the gates for laughter and hope. In our family we talk about our Katie with our three precious grandchildren so that they have a chance to know her through our remembrances. She is their Aunt Katie in heaven with God now. Katie loved the magic that children bring and she would love how we have opened our hearts to this chapter in our lives. When we remember that no one's spirit ever dies we will feel the light of confidence and direction shift in our souls to remember that our loved one is always with us as we are with them. And yes, we acknowledge that our life is not the same without them and we know that we will miss them forever. But we are grateful, so very grateful for having had the great blessing of them in our lives. We will honor our deceased by loving those still in our life and by making every day matter. Mary Jane Hurley Brant www.WhenEveryDayMatters.com Author of When Every Day Matters: A Mother's Memoir on Love, Loss and Life Simple Abundance Press, Oct. 1, 2008