As I left my local Chick-Fil-A today carrying my favorite Ice Dream with chocolate syrup, whipped cream, and, yes a cherry – way too good – I stopped in my tracks as my eye diverted to the cover of Continue reading Immigrant Found Guilty in 2001 Chandra Levy Murder
Category Archives: Death of a Child
I’m Still Here!
“A number of years ago my sister was killed and I’m the only child left in the family. My parents are still grieving and I find myself screaming, ‘But I’m still here’. What’s wrong with this picture?” Tony in New York
Tony, the picture you describe in not only accurate, but common. And while it may be distressful to hear that, I would recommend you take comfort in this one fact – you are not alone.
Many young people, and even not so young people, who have experienced the death of a sibling, seem to feel invisible in their parents’ eyes even years later. It seems as if no one told them they still have a living, breathing, active, loving child or children.
One of the most, if not the most, devastating event that can occur for a parent, is the loss of a child. I can tell you from my experience with my former husband that it will change a person forever.
But it is important that you connect with your parents and let them know how being in their own little world is affecting you.
I know you’d probably want to scream out all the injustices you have felt since your sister was killed, but a better way is to simply send them a note. Don’t blame; chances are they have been oblivious to your needs. Instead, tell them how you feel. Let them know you love them and want to be closer to them. You’d like a way to start talking out loud again about your family situation.
Welcome them to start by writing back. Often times is you write or email, it is less confrontational and, obviously, can’t escalate to blame, name calling, or hurt feelings.
Once you’ve both written out how you feel and how her death has affected you, you can move toward asking for what it is that would correct your feelings of isolation within the family unit.
Death of a Child…Age is Unimportant
Greetings!
As I read some of the recent posts to the Grieving Hearts group, it will always be true that no matter when a family loses a child they feel deep sadness for the inability to have seen that child grow beyond the years of their death.
It doesn’t matter whether they were an infant, a teenager, or a 42 year old. It only matters that for their family they won’t have the joy of seeing what they would have done with their life, all the experiences they would have had from that point on and the person they would have become later in life.
When an infant dies the entire cycle of life is considered. All the pleasure of raising that child, watching them grow into a fine young man or woman. Seeing them graduate high school and college. Perhaps seeing them marry and birth children of their own.
Yet when it’s a 42 or even 52 year old child to an older parent, that parent deals with all the additional years they would have had with their child. They also think of how they counted on their child to take care of them in the latter stages of their life.
Regardless of the number of missing years that a parent no longer has the privilege of experiencing, the pain is still great and the hole in the heart still remains. But over time, as grieving and anquish subside, there is a place where it turns to celebration and gratitude for one’s life, however long they happen to be with us.
How It All Began
About a half hour ago my printer spontaneously circled as if to print a document, but none had been requested. Whenever something like this occurs, being so in tune to spiritual happenings, I sat back to wonder what this was about.
After asking out loud for clarity, it occurred to me that on this day thirty-six years ago I lost the first person who ever meant anything to me. The first person who had made such an impact on my life and who, unknowingly, would usher me into this field of study and my profession.
At the tender age of 12, while he was 15, the nephew of my neighbor and I became close friends and he ultimately became the first ‘crush’ I experienced. And while Paul and I were looked upon as ‘forbidden’ because of the differences of our age, he was such a wonderful guy and friend who I cared for deeply.
We’d play Iron Butterfly’s songs and scream the lyrics across the room, help me babysit little ones, watch him study the guitar and try to master difficult songs, taught me wonderful dance steps and just had lots of fun laughing at his funny jokes. And like teenagers do, we stayed on the phone much too long and wrote silly letters to each other.
As fate would have it, he and his family moved away and we became penpals back then. Both he and I went on to meet other wonderful people, but his life would forever impact mine a few years later.
On this day, April 14, 1974 Paul was hit broadside and killed by a drunk driver at the tender age of 19 while pulling out of his driveway. I knew he died in the late afternoon, but when the printer circled at 4:35pm something made me believe it could have been just then.
So I sat back in my chair and just had this simple conversation with him as if his spirit was surrounding me at this very moment. And even all these years later, I filled up with tears because I can still see him in the coffin and how paralyzed I was sitting on the sofa in the funeral home looking at a person who had meant so much to me and it was not registering as to how he could possibly be dead at 19.
Over the years I have wondered how his family had been and what all became of them. I can only imagine how it affected his parents whom I didn’t get to see again.
But this little sign I believe he sent to me today had in its own way comforted me and reminded me that not only has he not forgotten me, but that no matter where we go in life, the people we love and have lost will always shown themselves to us. Their spirits live on.
This lovely, simple confirmation and remembrance today, for me, though bittersweet, reassures me that there is something after this life which we will all reach. And one day we will be greeted by all those who went on before us and when that happens what a heavenly party we’ll have!
Jett Travolta – Death of a Young Son and Brother
No one will ever convince me there is a magical formula for healing from the death of a child.
Regardless of whether it was anticipated or not, there is a struggle to understand it. Parents don’t expect to outlive their children. It’s just the way it is.
When someone so full of life is taken from his family at the tender age of 16, we wonder how something like this could happen. How could such an accident occur; how could he die so young.
One of the most difficult challenges about children dying is there are few answers. It just doesn’t make any sense. We can’t get our heads wrapped around the tragedy regardless how it occurred.
I chose this particular photo of Jett because I just loved his tender expression. From the little I have learned from the news reports, it is clear his parents John and Kelly, and his sister, Ella, loved him dearly and completely.
Everyone should know that level of love in their lives. Everyone should be part of such a dynamic family who, even with their celebrity, seemed to really understand and know that family was the priority.
I send my condolences to the Travolta and Preston family today and also hugs to Jett’s sister, Ella, whom I’m sure misses her big brother very much.
May your family be comforted by the many families worldwide who send their love and concern.
And may you know in your hearts, which is obvious for all to see, that Jett moves on now knowing he was deeply, amazingly and demonstratively loved by you in a way that few of us will ever experience.
Blessings…
