Category Archives: Death of a Parent

Pink and White Roses

My father and I were having a conversation yesterday about Mother’s Day and possible restaurants we might take mine to dinner. One of the things we decided was to purchase two dozen pink roses.

At first, he said he wanted to get red. Red, to me, always seems to show up at funerals and since I’ve been to way too many of them, I don’t feel comfortable giving red roses to anyone for anything.

My favorite happens to be pink…always has been, always will be. Soft pink roses seem just right. Not too harsh like red, not too bridal like white.

Anyway, he told me about how when he was growing up in New York City in the 1940 and 50s, on Mother’s Day a woman would wear either a white rose, signifying her mother had died, or a pink rose, signifying her mother was alive.

I had never heard that story and it really seems such a nice way to honor your mother whether she was still among us, or has passed on.

So, for me, I have the pleasure of still wearing a pink rose, but today, my heart and compassion goes out to all those who would be wearing a white rose.

And maybe there should be another color, perhaps purple or lavender, befitting the Foundation for Grieving Children, Inc., for those mothers who have buried children. The other side of motherhood is not just honoring our mothers, but mothers who can no longer be honored by children who have left us too soon.

Whether pink, or white and purple, we remember today all the wonderful things that mothers bring to our lives. But especially the fact that life itself began because of them.

Happy Mother’s Day.

Bittersweet Day for Princes William and Harry

I couldn’t help but think about these two fine young men during the last few months leading up to this royal wedding day. How bittersweet this time must have been for them. I’m sure memories of their beloved mother, Princess Diana, must have come flooding back.

It is so natural and normal on milestone days like today, Prince William and Catherine Middleton’s wedding day, that he and his brother, Prince Harry, would have envisioned what today and the months leading up to today, could have been like had their mother been alive to enjoy it all with them.

Once you’ve lost a loved one, especially as a young person, you go through life thinking ‘what if’. What if they were here to lend advice, counsel and comfort. What if Diana could have been a wonderful friend to Kate. What if she had helped me plan this day.

Even after a loved one have passed many, many years ago, on special days like this we tend to reminisce and picture what it could have been like and melancholy feelings can arise. And often do.

Congratulations to the future King and Queen, the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge. Perfect name, don’t you think? So…does this make us nearly related?

Arizona Memorial Service or Pep Rally for Students

I was horrified last night when I watched what the University of Arizona called a “Memorial Service” for six people murdered last weekend.

Expecting a dimly lit, reverent, quiet, respectful service remembering each of those killed and all of those struggling to survive their wounds, I instead saw a gathering of tens of thousands, primarily students, in what looked like the university’s basketball arena where these students were there more to see President Obama than to console the family members of the dead and wounded.

I really could not believe what I was seeing. Since when is a memorial service an opportunity for the crowd to cheer wildly when the President and his wife walked to their seats, or when he gave his speech. Didn’t they know this wasn’t a political rally? Didn’t they know to be respectful of the feelings of so many people who are devastated right now since their family members were murdered just days ago.

I guess my outrage is based upon whether we really have to teach people compassion any more. Do we have to teach members of the event staff that you don’t turn people’s pain into a political event? You don’t make tee-shirts and give them out at a memorial service. You don’t turn a service, which rightfully should have been held in a church or small venue for only those who were immediately involved in this tragedy, into a huge rally with cheering students.

It’s just not appropriate. It’s unkind, unthinkable, disrespectful.

Another event for the students could have be organized for a later time. This ‘service’ should have been only for those whose families were killed or wounded…period.

What bothers me the most is these families will always remember this. They are in shock. They are fragile and everything that happens in the days following a loved one’s death, is not erased. I know this.

How do you think they felt thinking they would be part of a respectful, quiet, perhaps candlelit ceremony and instead went to a political rally? How do you apologize for that.

And while the President’s words were somewhat soothing and he did a good job of taking the time to speak about each of the victims, the cheers when he spoke, to me, felt more a confirmation of the crowd’s approval of his being there, than the descriptions of the lives we lost.

Even, I believe, Mark Kelly, Congresswoman Giffords’ husband looked quite uncomfortable sitting among all these politicians.

From my perspective, the most compassionate time of the entire service was when there was a moment of silence for the victims and the choir sung a beautiful song. That was the tone which should have surrounded the entire service.

It was so obvious whoever planned this event, has never been to a memorial service or candlelight vigil for murder victims, or worse, they weren’t interested in planning it for the benefit of the victims’ families but for another agenda.

Diary of a Grieving Child

Well I finally learned how to do these videos. I’m excited to share them with you. They speak through the hearts of grieving people.

My heart’s desire was to help you better understand what the bereaved really go through after a loved one’s death – what a hurting person is really saying inside. Post a comment. I’d love to hear what you think.