ASK DR. BAUGHAN                                                         December 2, 1999

THE LENGTH OF GRIEF

In this second of a three-part series on grief, I will share the perspective of someone currently still working through the stages of grief.  Lisa Huntress lost a child to Sudden Infant Death Syndrome earlier this year.  She wanted to share the following thoughts and feelings not only to facilitate her healing, but to help others through the grieving process - those feeling grief, and those close to the grief-stricken.

SURVIVING THE DEATH OF MY CHILD   by Lisa Huntress

  When asked, “How long do they think it will take you to get over this?” I was awestruck.  My heart felt as if it had been dropped to my feet.  Was I doing this wrong?  Is there a time limit on my grief?

  Like an oak tree that is hundreds of years old, grief has many branches.  A very strong tree, with branches that break, but there’s another one for you to grab hold of.  This tree has been a very big part of my life since February 28, 1999.

  That was the day my daughter died.  She was 2 months and 26 days old.  My child was taken from my arms.  I will never get to hold that physical part of her again.  Her softness, her weight, her wiggle, her peacefulness.  She is still in my arms, but only in my memories.  I can close my eyes and remember what she felt like.  She gave me such beautiful memories.  These memories are all mine. They cannot be taken away from me.

  However, when I open my eyes, reality is waiting for me.  She is still gone.  I am left with the daily heartache, the longing to hold, to touch, to smell, to hear her cry.  Some days these needs are so strong, I feel as if I will be taken over with my grief.  Then there’s a branch to catch me.

  As the wind blows, it rustles my tree’s many branches.  Some days the wind blows so fiercely, it seems as if those branches couldn’t possibly hold up.  Then there are days that there is not even a breeze,  Days when I feel the strength of the tree that holds all the branches.

  There is no greater love than the labor of love.  A parent is not supposed to outlive their children.  When a child dies, the loss is so great, mere words cannot begin to tell the tale.  So, to answer that question, I don’t think I will ever “get over” the death of my daughter.  She will always be with me, in my heart and in my memories.  I will get on with my life and learn how to live without her physically.

  STEPHANIE ANN HUNTRESS

      12/02/98 to 02/28/99

I want to thank Lisa for her courage in sharing these difficult feelings.  She highlights a key issue in grief - the difference between “getting over it” and “getting on with her life.”  How can a caring relative, friend or colleague tell whether someone is still working through grief and when they are stuck?  To emphasize a point from last week, LISTEN TO THEM.  Do they describe different aspects or stages of their sadness and loss?  Next, watch what they do as much as what they say.  Are they becoming more and more withdrawn and isolated?  Are they less and less willing to talk?  Or are they resuming some of the activities of life in work and social interaction, even if there are good days and bad days, with three steps forward and two steps back?  Are there flare-ups of grief at fairly predictable times - anniversaries, birthdays, Mother’s Day?  Are they seeking help with their grief from family, friends, ministers, therapists, etc.  There is no time limit to grief.  We cannot expect a person to not “feel sad” anymore.  We can expect that the loss needs to be honored with respect and sorrow from time to time.  That’s why we have a Memorial Day.  A time to reflect on how fragile life is can help us appreciate how precious it is.