The death of a child – grown or otherwise – carries a burden of grieving for a parent which exceeds all human boundaries of comprehension or understanding at the time of its happening, and involves enduring a grieving and healing path unique among the losses to be experienced by mankind.

In this Part 4 and its following fifth post to this site I share the ongoing story of grieving the death of a grown child – in poetic form – and allow you the readers to experience its journey through grief to find healing. It’s a prayer of my heart that you will be touched and encouraged by its ever growing message of hope as you read all five parts of the story these poems tell.

Her name was Leila Gray (Brennan), a 26 year old helicopter pilot at the time of her death, and she was my own beloved daughter.

This was a poem written in still dreaded anticipation of the third anniversary of her death due once again to arrive the following day – a landmark day on which I would finally allow myself to remember and experience its full effects for the first time, in order to be able to give outlet to those deep feelings of grief still trapped within me.

Anniversary Memories

I’m feeling the bite of the pain again
and the emotions that memories bring;
Of a daughter who died just three years ago
and the songs that her spirit would sing.

Anniversary times are tough at best,
When worlds will again collide;
To bring back the news of the fateful day
That she flew her last gallant ride.

A spirit so strong and so full of life
Should not have been snuffed out so young;
That’s the cry of my father’s heart
For her songs that remain unsung.

The death of a child – grown or otherwise – carries a burden of grieving for a parent which exceeds all human boundaries of comprehension or understanding at the time of its happening, and involves enduring a grieving and healing path unique among the losses to be experienced by mankind.

In this last of the series Part 5 post to this site I share the final segment of grieving the death of a grown child – in poetic form – and allow you the readers to experience its journey through grief to find healing. It’s been a prayer of my heart that you’ve been touched and encouraged by their ever growing message of hope as you read all five parts of the story these poems have told.

Her name was Leila Gray (Brennan), a 26 year old helicopter pilot at the time of her death, and she was my own beloved daughter.

This was my poem of decision, written in the realization that it was time for the ‘rubber to hit the road’ of my future life in a meaningful way – finally – despite the fact that I was still a healing dad. I knew I was on a journey of healing, but felt the compelling force of these questions within me of…”where do I go from here, and how do I get there?” I needed to know their answers.

This was the poetically written step that made the difference for me – my first reaching out towards the Integration (Mending the Heart)* cycle of grief – the one that would ultimately lead me to the healing of journey’s end, and the beginning of the newly reintegrated life waiting there.

I Choose It Now

I don’t know where the road will lead; I just know it’s still up a hill.
I think I’ve finally found a healing creed; but it’s all controlled by my Will.

So will I let it lead me right; or maybe take another wrong turn?
I know I’m tired of this long, long fight; and the hurt of its awful burn.

I’ve got more choices to make this day, and for all of the ones yet to come.
With my heart out front I’m feeling the Way; and I’m hoping I’ll be healing some.

A chopper flies by way up in the air; and my breath still stutters to a stop.
I can’t help but see her then in His care; yet my soul harvests pain as a crop.

There’s a hole in my life that I can’t fill in; there’s no patch that’ll cover the wound.
To say it’s not true would be a mortal sin; so the notes of my song still aren’t tuned.

In today’s world of rapid change on all fronts the integrity of family units has not been exempt from the effects of those changes. This has resulted in ever greater numbers of broken relationships, divorces, separations and new children, partners and spouses being added to the mixed equations of their family lives.

This has also resulted in a growing number of mixed-status families who have to learn to deal with their loss, grief and bereavement in whole new ways as they struggle to cope with their individual grieving within those changes to their life structures.

Often this mixed-status is the cause of great differences in emotional impact from a death within such fragmented families, resulting in additional feelings of hurt to add to the crushing load of grief affecting those members more closely related to or aligned with the one who has died.

It’s not uncommon for resentments to build up under these kinds of conditions, and left unchecked or unattended to these can lead to estrangements and another family breakup, a negative perpetuation of the cycles of change, and the experience of even greater loss than has already been suffered.

My wife came home from the office last week with a discovery from among her filing which has brought me much comfort as the still healing father, son, brother and friend that I am.

The simple beauty and imagery of these words has cast a new and profoundly peaceful outlook on the journey of all those whom I’ve lost throughout my life to dying…and eased my pain.

Whether you’ve seen this before or not, read it for yourself and take hold of the comfort and easing of pain it offers you as well in the beauty of its perspective…

Dying

I am standing at the seashore.

A ship spreads her sail to the morning breeze and starts for the ocean.

She is an object of beauty, and I stand watching her until at last she fades on the horizon. Someone at my side says, “She is gone”.

Gone? Gone where? Gone from my sight, that is all – The loss of sight is in me, not in her.

And just then, at the moment when someone says “She is gone”

There are others who are watching her coming. Other voices take up the glad shout, “There she comes!”

And that, my friend, is dying.

(An adaptation of a poem written by George W. Meek)

With Love and Understanding,

Ken Matthies

HeartSpun Posts from the Crucible of Experience

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How often in the midst of your loss, grief and bereavement have you found yourself feeling as though you were about to drown in sorrow, not knowing what direction to reach out for in order to find the safety of something to hang on to and not go completely under from the pain of it all?

Sometimes Mother Nature provides us with examples of her events that parallel our own real life experiences of loss of a loved one, examples that in their own way we can not only see and learn from, but can also take a huge measure of comfort, strength and healing from.

Because if you notice, Mother Nature always restores and heals the land she has laid waste to with her catastrophic events – maybe just as a way to show us mortals that we too will eventually find restoration and healing from the pain of our individual devastation.

I’m seeing an example of her handiwork in my own geographical back yard this year – and can’t help comparing its inevitable progress to my own journey of healing from loss, grief and bereavement. Perhaps you’ll be able to identify with and find help from this example yourself.

The huge area of interconnected lakes I live among is under flood warning conditions this summer resulting from the melt waters of a huge winter snow pack, as well as unusually high rainfall levels and the global warming effects of melting mountain glaciers. Some homes built too close to these lakes have already been filled with the floodwaters, and the owners are facing grievous loss.

I’ll understand if you’re wondering what a grief buddy* could possibly have to do with the tail rotor of a Bell 206 helicopter…or what lesson of healing value could be found in either one of those subjects.

Bear with me here, and see for yourself the values of healing from loss, grief and bereavement to be found in both.

Almost five years after the sudden death of my helicopter pilot daughter in a crash I found myself reading another book about grief, this one entitled Understanding Your Grief – Ten Essential Touchstones for Finding Hope and Healing Your Heart by Dr. Alan Wolfelt. It’s a really good book for a bereaved parent to be reading, no matter how far down the pike you’ve come since your loss happened.

It was in this book that I first came across the term grief buddy* under the category of Caring for your Social Self. It refers to the fact that although no one else can grieve the death you’ve experienced just like you do, you’re not alone because there are fellow travelers along the road of grief who’ve had similar experiences…someone who is also mourning a death and needs a companion in grief right now.