"To
every thing there is a season, and a time to
every purpose under the heaven. A time to be
born, and a time to die. A time to plant and
a time to pluck up that which is planted. A
time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to
break down, and a time to build up. A time to
weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn,
and a time to dance. A time to cast away stones,
and a time to gather stones together. A time
to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing.
A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to
keep, and a time to cast away. A time to rend
and a time to sew; a time to keep silence and
a time to speak. A time to love, and a time
to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace."
Ecclesiastes 3
How
can spring be in the air when it still feels
like winter in my heart? This is a question
I have asked myself many times over the years
while struggling to deal with my bereavement.
When my heart is heavy with the sadness of missing
my loved ones, it seems impossible to be surrounded
by the beauty of new buds on the trees, green
grass struggling to come to life and the first
signs of tulips pushing their tiny shoots up
through the earth. But these same signs also
provide hope.
My
journey of grief has taken me on many paths
of exploration. Spirituality and philosophy
can sometimes provide a useful framework to
understand my losses, but in times of great
despair (and especially when my faith in a higher
power is wavering under the weight of unanswered
questions), it is nature that I turn to for
comfort.
Nature's
cycle of life and death isn't a theory or a belief
- it just is. When I think of my friends and family,
who are gone, I wonder whether or not their souls
are in "heaven", as my Christian upbringing
taught me, or have their spirits been transformed
and reborn, as my Buddhist readings have taught
me. In moments of confusion and pain, what calms
my heart is the unquestionable truth that their
life and death is part of a great and ancient
cycle of nature.
That's
why in the days following September 11th, I spent
several Saturdays on my hands and knees in the
garden that I love, planting hundreds of tulips.
I needed to believe that despite how I was feeling
at the time, the uncertainty about the future
and the incredible loss to our world, that spring
would indeed come again.
I've
heard grief described best not in stages or phases
(as if there is some 12-step-like, linear process
one goes through and comes out the other end finished!),
but rather as a series of discoveries or aspects.
My wish for you this season is that you discover
some sense of peace and comfort in the familiar
and constant rhythms of nature that surround us
all.
On January
26, 2002, a group of BFO-T's staff, volunteers and board
members came together for a Day of Renewal. With the
changes and challenges of the past year, it was a time
for people who are devoted to the wellbeing of the organization
to come together and renew their commitment to BFO's
mission, programs and services.
An emotional
and productive day ended with the facilitator asking
the group to share their response to the statement "What
really matters to me is…." Here's what some
of you said:
·
Two hearts meeting to help the healing begin.
· That BFO continues to flourish as a self-help
organization.
· That someone was there for me and I need to
be there for someone else.
· To share and listen and make a difference.
· That we renew ourselves as a caring and helping
place that provides quality programs.
· That there is and always will be a safe haven
for persons whose hearts are broken through loss.
People were
also asked to complete the statement "My commitment
to this group/process is….":
·
To help the healing begin and continue.
· To be open and available.
· To share myself with you and be open to receiving
you in all of your humanity.
· To become more involved in the organization
as a whole and help it to heal and grow.
· To say YES, the next time BFO asks for my help.
Have you
been a volunteer for BFO-T in the past, but have drifted
away during the transitions of the last year? Are you
committed to the organization, but don't know how to
get involved? If you want to be a part of BFO's ongoing
renewal process, please give me a call so we can talk
about how best to put your volunteer energy to use.
Betty Ann
Rutledge, Coordinator of Volunteer Programs
416-440-0290 ext. 11, prog.bfo@axxent.ca
It has been said, "time heals
all wounds".
I do not agree. The wounds remain.
In time, the mind (protecting its sanity),
covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens.
But it is never gone.
Bereaved
Families of Ontario-Toronto would like to invite you
to participate in the dedication/ground-breaking of
The Healing Garden in the Duplex Parkette at
Yonge Street and Chatsworth. The dedication will be
held on Sunday, May 26, 2002 at 2.00p.m. at the Yonge
Street entrance.
The Healing
Garden is to provide, for any who so desire, a place
to meditate their loss[es] and for some
perhaps a place to cultivate the earth and heal their
pain. We would be pleased to have BFO members and supporters
share with us a beautiful addition to our community.
Further information
may be obtained by calling the BFO office and leaving
a message for one of the
Garden Committee members, one of whom will return your
call.
I am a mother
of 2 living in Latvia. My first child, a daughter named
Saga was born and died the 16th of March 2000. We knew
she did not have a chance to stay with us as she was
diagnosed with Thanforic Dysplasia in February that
same year. I am so grateful for the support I got from
your organization's information that I found on the
internet. There is nothing like that here in Latvia.
We went to Sweden for the delivery. I am Swedish and
I knew the care there would be better in a case like
this.
I am so grateful
for the support we got from the staff at the hospital
in Stockholm and the information I got from your organization.
It gave my husband and I a good start for our grieving.
But what helped us to move on with our lives was the
fact that I got pregnant again in August 2000. That
pregnancy was filled with worries, but then I got all
the support I could ask for here in Latvia. I also started
to train staff working at the delivery ward. I told
them about our family story. I told them how we felt
and reacted when we received Saga's diagnosis, how we
prepared for her birth and for her death and I referred
to the information I found through your organization.
Our son Lukas was born in May last year. Do I need to
tell you that it was the happiest moment of my life!
I am now
working on starting a website for parents in Latvia.
The site will have all sorts of information that parents
would find interesting and/or necessary. I would like
to use some of your information because I found it to
be excellent.
Thank you
for being there for me.
Yours sincerely,
My daughter - born of my body, entwined
with my soul - mind of her own, pushing always for
the best in all of us, bossy, loving, sharp, kind,
passionate, soft, hard, funny, direct, honest to the
point of pain, yet a sculptor of truth - bending it,
weaving it, using it to produce her vision of how
we all should be. Some people love a little - some
people love a lot - my daughter loved magnificently
- pushing, pushing for us to have everything good
and to be as wonderful as she KNEW we all were underneath.
For a while I was the mother - and she let me be -
and then she was the mother and remained so to the
end…
I was supposed to go first - this is
the proper way - but strangers in white coats hand
out their death notices - and this was the year she
received hers, - and suddenly life shifted - we no
longer trod our paths through life but became a family
in waiting - and as we waited we lightened our defences.
We learned; hesitantly at first, that grief shared
is bearable. We learned that in the midst of tears,
laughter is possible. We learned softness toward one
another and we learned how to be strong. And if we
slipped, Steevi shored us up. She insisted that we
"have a life". And we are left with her
legacy of uncompromising honesty and unflagging courage
that faces life's truths, accepts them - and gets
on with it. How can we do less? We miss her smile,
her touch, but her caring spirit resides forever in
our hearts and demands that we love and laugh together
in her memory.
Coping with terminal illness or
the death of a loved one is hard on all of us,
but it is especially difficult on a child. The
"Mommy Loves You" teddy bear and "Daddy
Loves You" teddy bear have been developed
to help a child through this difficult time.
The bear is accompanied by a 64-page handbook
that helps explain to a parent how to best handle
the grieving process with a child in simple,
clear terms.
"The "Loves You Bear"
and book, by Sally Schoellkopf, MFT, will be
of great value to families who are experiencing
overwhelming grief because of the death of a
loved one… through its insights, as well
as its crucial information and suggestions."
Suzy Yehl Marta, Founder & President RAINBOWS,
Rolling Meadows, Illinois.
Sally Schoellkopf is a Bereaved
Families of Ontario-Toronto Volunteer Facilitator
and Advisor for children's programs. "The
Loves You Bear" and book are on display
in the BFO-Toronto office if you would like
to come and have a look. Order forms are also
available from the office, however all orders
must be place through the Loves You Bear Company.
* Italian Family Support Nights are held
at the Columbus Centre at 901 Lawrence
Avenue West (Lawrence & Dufferin), signs will be placed
in the front entrance.
Please Note: Family Support Night is not appropriate for
children to attend.
This newsletter is produced
for our members and supporters. Our newsletter is available
by mail and email. We welcome submissions, please forward
to Laura Larsen (laura.larsen@bereavedfamilies.org). We reserve
the right to edit items submitted for publication.
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