August 2015 - The Compassionate Friends

Welcome to The Compassionate Friends. We are sorry for the reason you are here, but are
glad that you found us. You Need Not Walk Alone, we are The Compassionate Friends.
AUGUST 2015
HOUSTON NORTHWEST CHAPTER
www.houstonnorthwesttcf.org
Cypress Creek Christian Church Community Center
6823 Cypresswood Drive, Room 20
Spring, Texas 77379
We meet the second Tuesday of each month at 7:00pm.
(Our next meeting is Tuesday, August 11th)
We are located between Stuebner-Airline and Kuykendahl, about 2 miles North of FM 1960
West. The Community Center is located behind the church, between the courthouse and
Barbara Bush Library. At the York Minster traffic light turn into the church/community center
parking lot. Follow the posted signs to our meeting room.
Chapter Leader:
David Hendricks
936-441-3840
dbhhendricks@hotmail.com
South Texas Regional Co- Coordinators:
Annette Mennan Baldwin (281-578-9118)
amennenbaldwin@hotmail.com
Debbie Rambis (812-249-5452)
dsrambis@gmail.com
Mark Rambis (812-249-0086)
merambis@gmail.com
Newsletter Editor:
Linda Brewer 936-441-3840
llbrewer67@hotmail.com
National Headquarters, TCF
P.O. Box 3696
Oakbrook, IL 60522-3696
1-876-969-0010
www.compassionatefriends.org
THE COMPASSIONATE FRIENDS
MISSION STATEMENT
When a child dies, at any age, the family suffers intense pain and may feel hopeless and
isolated. The Compassionate Friends provides highly personal comfort, hope, and support to
every family experiencing the death of a son or a daughter, a brother or a sister, or a grandchild,
and helps others better assist the grieving family.
To the Newly Bereaved
As the years pass, we see new members come into the chapter, and we try to help them with
their grief as we progress in our own. Over and over again, I have seen newly bereaved parents come to
their first meeting totally devastated and convinced that their lives are over. Through the months (and
years) I have seen them struggle and suffer and try to find meaning in their lives again. And they do!
Through all the anger, pain and tears, somehow the human spirit is able to survive and flower again in a
new life – perhaps a changed life and possibly a sadder one, but a stronger one nevertheless.
We feel so weak and crushed when our beloved children die, but I know because I have seen it
countless times in the years I’ve been involved with The Compassionate Friends that we can make it
together. When you walked through the door for the first meeting, you were frightened and nervous;
but with that step you made a statement about your life. With that first step through the door, you said
you wanted to try, you wanted to find a reason for living again, that you weren’t willing to be swallowed
by your grief. You wanted to go forward, and those first steps into The Compassionate Friends began
your journey.
The journey will be a long one, for you loved your child with all your heart and soul. When that
child died, a part of you was ripped away. It takes a long time to repair that large hole. The journey will
not always be steady or constant; there will be many setbacks. Those of us who have taken the journey
before you can assure you that, while there may be no rainbow at the other end, there is indeed “light
at the end of the tunnel.”
We want to help you as we were helped, but in the beginning and in the long run, you must help
yourself. You have to want to get better, to talk about your loss, to struggle through the grief. We will
listen, suggest, share and laugh and cry with you; and we hope, at this time next year, you’ll be several
steps along in your personal journey through grief. Then you can begin to help others.
Lighting a candle, cherishing a birth………
AUGUST BIRTHDAYS
2003-Makaylin Angel, Daughter of Jennifer Edwards
1999-Devin Wood, Son of Natalie Wood
1970-Lisa Renee Sanders, Daughter of Jim & Peggy Holland
1988-Shaun N. Finley, Son of Barbara Finley
2002-Samantha Short, Daughter of Linda Short
1988-Trace Thornton, Son of Nina Thornton
1988-Honey Khan, Son of Amra Khan
1963-Lloyd Ross (Rossi) Moore, Jr., Son of Carolyn Moore
1988-Matthew Peterson, Son of Sharon Peterson
1983-Fallon Ginther, Daughter of Lisa Ginther
1983-Travis Walden, Son of Janet Walden
1961-Terry Shannon Pauling, Son of Howard &Jean Pauling, Brother of Vicki Hyde
1995-Cheyenne Crocker, Daughter of Beth & Nick Crocker
1983-Christine Marie Frazier, Daughter of Steven R. Frazier
1980-Molly Long, Daughter of Carolyn Long
1955-Tony King, Brother of Carolyn Moore
1968-Dillon R. Howland, Jr., Son of Rachel Howland
2001-Emily Crocker, Daughter of Beth & Nick Crocker
1980-Ryan David Dodson, Son of Diane & David Dodson
1985-Derek Johns, Son of Shauna & Jeff Crook
1990-David Morgan, Son of Brent & Martina Morgan
1998-Katelyn Holmes, Daughter of Melinda Holmes
1989-Danielle Basford, Daughter of Jerry & Laurie Basford
1988-Samual Johnson, Son of Tim Johnson
1970-James Loveless, Son of Bob & Frances Loveless
1960-Kimberly Grubbs, Daughter of Patsy Grubbs
2013-Elias Reyes, Son of Crystal Reyes
2013-Jasmins Potter Jr, Son of Jasmins & Erika Potter
1984-Justin McHan, Son of Ronnie & Linda McHan
1978- Sarah Beltran, Daughter of Hila Beltran
1993-Forrest Gadler, Son of Tanya Gadler
1998-Tremaine Robinson, Son of Toya Robinson
1993-Cathrine Breeding, Daughter of Barbara Breeding
The Birth and Death of our loved ones are always very difficult. Please remember to
include these families in your thoughts and prayers on their very difficult day.
Lighting a candle, remembering a life
AUGUST ANGEL DATES
2008- Dillon & Alex Gussie, Sons of Debbie Benavides
2009- Nicholas (Nick) Skala, Son of Judy Skala
2007- Alan Jerome Austin, Son of Rhonda Austin
2003- Brian D. Klaus, Son of Johnny & Ginger Klaus
2011- Cherelle Luter, Daughter of Sylvia Green
2012-Landyn Elizabeth Tickle, Daughter of Matthew & Shelby Tickle
2013-James Loveless, Son of Bob & Frances Loveless
2013-Colton Alderson, Son of Jimmy Alderson
2013-Elias Reyes, Son of Crystal Reyes
2013-David Kerpchar, Son of Sally Kerpchar
2012-Misty Smith, Daughter of Terri DeMontrond
2008-Adam Brown, Son of Greg & Debbie Brown
2014-Gene Ware, Son of Roberta Ware
2014-Ginger Ware, Daughter of Roberta Ware
2014-Giavanna Calista, Daughter of Nicole Kelley
YOU ARE NOT FORGOTTEN
You are not forgotten, loved one
Nor will you ever be,
As long as life and memory last
We will remember thee.
We miss you now.
As time goes by
We'll miss you more.
Your loving smile, your gentle face
No one can fill your vacant place.
Written by the family of Odessa Anne Box
CHAPTER NEWS
Our next meeting is Tuesday, August 11th at 7pm.
We are pleased to welcome Mark and Debbie Rambis to our TCF family. Mark and
Debbie will be moving to the Spring area in August from Savannah, GA. They were
chapter leaders and regional coordinators in Georgia and will be assisting our regional
coordinator, Annette Baldwin, with the TCF's South Texas Region. Welcome to Texas
Mark and Debbie!
A Warm Welcome to Our New Members - We’re Glad You Found Us.
To our newest members—we offer our warmest welcome to Barbara Breeding, lost her
daughter Catherine in January of this year; Russell & Nury Whitford, lost their daughter
Vanessa in May of this year. If you have walked through the door to a TCF meeting, we understand
how traumatic and difficult that is to do...we have all taken that step and reach out to you in friendship
and support.
As our TCF Credo says, “We come from different walks of life…”, but the common bond we now
share is the death of a beloved child, grandchild, or sibling. Others cannot understand the terrifying and
debilitating emotional issues that occur in our daily lives once this event happens; a TCF member can
and does!
We hope you will find our meetings and newsletters to be a source of comfort, a place where
tears are allowed, no judgments are made and the hope that through this trauma, we can once again
find hope and meaning in our lives.
To Our Old Members
We need your encouragement and support. You are the string that ties our group together
and the glue that makes it stick. THINK BACK...what would it have been like for you if there had not
been any “oldies” to welcome you, share your grief, and encourage you? It was from them you
heard, “your pain will not always be this bad; it really does soften.” Come join us and support our
new families.
LIBRARY
Our chapter offers a lending library with a variety of books on grief and bereavement. We encourage
you to browse our library and feel free to check out a book or CD to take home with you.
We only ask that you sign out the books and return them in a timely manner so others can have the
benefit of the information as well. If you have borrowed a book from our library please remember to
return it. You can drop it by anytime.
If you have read a book that was helpful to you and would like to share it with others, donating that
book in your child’s name is a wonderful way to honor them.
A few thoughts on the National Conference from one of our members.
The Compassionate Friends 38th National Conference
July 2015
written by Laura Hengel
The Compassionate Friends 38th National Conference in Dallas Texas was an event to be
remembered. The conference featured the opening ceremony with keynote speaker Kay
Warren of Saddleback Church, many workshop sessions, a Saturday evening dinner and candle
lighting, the Walk to Remember and the final Closing Ceremony with speaker Kris Munsh. It
was a time filled with love and compassion. I felt the words ring true that “I need not walk
alone.”
It was amazing to be in such a beautiful facility with so many other bereaved parents,
siblings, and grandparents. It felt “normal” to sometimes have such deep feelings of sorrow that
tears flowed down my face, then only a few minutes later to have laughter erupt from that same
place deep in my soul where the love, life and loss of my child reside. Throughout the
conference I knew that I was not alone in this journey.
There were numerous workshop sessions offered. It was difficult to decide which to attend.
Some of the sessions were for men, or women, or siblings, or grandparents. Others related
specifically to the manner of loss-through sudden death, loss of a teenager, loss from addiction,
or from a long illness. Still others were about the grief journey, seeing signs from our loved
ones, or even pet loss of our loved ones being a second loss. There was a session for every
aspect of this grief journey.
Attending this conference brought my grief journey to a new level of understanding for myself.
I had learned in the 4+ years since my son entered heaven that this journey was long and often
difficult. At times the grief has been very heavy and hard to handle, other times have been filled
with love, laughter and the beginnings of joy. This conference let me know that all of these
feelings and emotions are normal with others on this same journey and that we need not walk
alone.
Articles & Poems for Our Newsletter
If you would like to submit a poem, writing or a brief article about your child or your grief journey for our
newsletter, please email them to me, Linda Brewer at llbrewer67@hotmail.com. I will be happy to
include it in the next newsletter.
Many have discovered helping others to be the most enduring therapy, for it's
the burdens you help another bear that makes your own seem light...or lighter.
Dr. Albert Schweitzer
Embracing The Invisible Kinship of Compassionate Friends
Every morning following the death of my son I awoke and thought, “my child is dead.”
The enormity of that realization each morning was crushing, the momentary shock was like a
knife in my heart. I would drag myself out of bed and shed silent tears. My life was forever
changed: my only child’s life had ended. The unfairness would rock me into hyperconsciousness as I began my day. Living was a major effort.
Initially I could only cling to my sanity. After the shock passed, the depression and anger
had me in a vise grip. My moods would swing every morning, afternoon and night. I would
retreat into myself, irrationally lash out at others and then retreat back into myself. My mind
would wander, I made silly mistakes in my work, I couldn’t recall names of people who had been
in my life for years and my word retrieval was at the bottom.
After two and half months of this grim routine, I attended my first Compassionate Friends
meeting. A friend drove me and guided me along into the meeting. I was in a haze. The only
contribution I could make was to tearfully say my son’s name. But I continued to attend.
As the newly bereaved, I was given the gift of wisdom from those who had been on this
journey much longer than I had been. After several meetings I began contributing little bits. I still
wept each time I talked, but I was talking. This was a major breakthrough for me.
Despite the negativity that enveloped me as I let go of my life before the death of my
son, I continued to attend Compassionate Friends meetings. I missed my son’s ability to soften
the vitriolic attitude of others who were in his life. Now I was on the firing line. I began sharing
my experiences, the horrors of being sued for the wrongful death of my own child and the ache I
felt for a once normal relationship with my son’s children. Life was forever altered…...for my
grandchildren and for me.
The “wise ones” guided me along this path of grief. I learned to live in the moment. I
learned to place no expectations on others. I learned that once burned is twice warned in
human relationships. I learned that I could survive if I chose to do so. I also learned that to
extend my compassion to others was to participate in my healing.
Eventually I wrote an article for our Compassionate Friends newsletter and gave it to the
editor. Then I wrote another, and another, and another. Then I began printing the newsletter.
Each step, each little contribution brought me closer to sanity. I was participating in the effort to
help others in their journey of grief, and in doing this I was helping myself on the journey. I was
working with those who had made this journey and survived. Perhaps I, too, would survive.
Then I was asked to be the editor of the newsletter. At first I was fearful of this responsibility, but
then I realized that I could, in some small way, help others whose children had died. And in
offering that help, I could further my personal healing.
It’s been 2 years, 8 months and 10 days since my son, Todd, was killed in a car
accident. My husband, who was driving, has worked very hard to retain his sanity. I have
learned to help him in that struggle. I have learned to accept that my relationship with my
granddaughters was forever relegated to pure insignificance after my son died. I have learned
that money is the alpha and the omega for some people and the pain they inflict to get money is
justified in their minds. I have learned to accept life as it comes. I am the director of my life and
no others.
How am I traversing that road from pure shock to accepting new normalcy? How do I
keep my child with me and let go of the horrifying, life altering changes associated with his
death? How do I deal with the stupefying actions of others that followed my son’s death? The
answer is as simple and as complex as the grief and compassion that lives within each parent
whose child has died.
Through the efforts of the “wise ones”, I found comfort and hope. The comfort offered by
those who have lost a child is unlike any other we will experience. Their loss is the same as
ours: the unspeakable, the worst nightmare, the darkest fear of every parent has now
transformed into their reality. Their compassion is real. Their suggestions are gentle. Their
wisdom comes over time and is the culmination of experiences which bring the realization that
each of us progresses at a different rate, grieves in a different way and deals with life from a
different perspective.
Those who have been here and choose to return, to relive the pain of their child’s death
in order to help others are the nucleus of our organization. And so, as each day goes by, I learn
from others that I must learn for myself. My truth is unique. Each truth is unique. Each parent is
unique. Each child is uniquely remembered by bereaved parents and every member of our
Compassionate Friends group.
I realized this week that my first thought of the day doesn’t overwhelm me like it once
did. My child lives in my heart. I have learned to live that reality. It is my hope to help other
parents find this tiny vestige of peace.
Annette Mennen Baldwin
In memory of my son, Todd Mennen
TCF, Katy, TX
Annette Mennen Baldwin 's son Todd died in December, 2002 so it's been almost
13years for Annette. She has written approximately 140 articles for TCF over the
last 12 years or so. She is a gifted and insightful writer who brings the message of
hope, while sharing the diffuiculties of the journey all bereaved parents make.
Her articles are inspiring, encouraging, and compassionate. I have used many
of them in our newsletter, as have other TCF newsletter editors. Annette has been
the Newsletter Editor, Chapter Leader, and South Texas Regional Coordinator.
And for now she will remain Co-Regional Coordinator for South Texas. Thank
you Annette for all the wonderful articles. Keep writing, and we will continue
using your thoughts.
Linda Brewer
Newsletter Editor
Northwest Houston Chapter
HOPE
I am feeling a bit different today and I wonder if I am healing. I've read about healing from those who
know grief. But how many of them have lost what I have lost? How many do not sleep , eat, or play as
they did before? But today I heard the birds sing, and wondered where they had been hiding for so long.
Then it dawned on me that I have been hiding.
My sorrow has imprisoned me. Maybe it is time to escape, time to rediscover the laughter and replace
some of the tears. Maybe it's time to say yes to life's opportunities. I'm not sure I can do this. I still feel
totally alone, in the midst of family and friends. I'm still scared when I think of facing life's trails without
her. She had absolutely no fear and showed me such courage. I don't know if I am up to it.
If I can enjoy the song of my backyard birds, maybe my life can return to me if I can work at it harder. I
think that I might want to try. Maybe the good sleep will return and food can taste good. Maybe the days
of aimlessness can be replaced with purpose!
I think that the bird's song was a sign. It is time to say hello again to who I was and who I can again be.
By: Ronald Gries
Back To School
Strange things happen to you when your child dies. You'll fail if you try to make sense of
most of it.
Both my children had finished high school when my son died, yet I found the beginning
of school- especially that first year - to be difficult. The bus stops in front of my home for the
neighborhood children. Suddenly, as they all gathered to wait for the bus, I found myself reliving
those simple, happier days of old; longing for them actually. It was a painful time.
Now, if I, whose children were grown and gone, had a problem with school starting,
those of you who do have school age children must know that your pain is normal. It's another
reminder that life goes on - with or without our children - and acknowledging that hurts! I came
to the conclusion that it was all right to pine for happier times and it was nothing to get upset
about. As with many remnants of grief, I recognize it, allow it and then get on with my life.
Maybe you're like me, you'll always be a little nostalgic about school starting. That would
probably have been true even if my son had lived. Maybe you, too?
Mary Cleckley,
TCF - Atlanta, GA
Fall and Back To School Can Be Painful
Yes, it’s that time of year again as the kids all start a new year in school. For those of us who
have lost school-aged children, we feel the sting. Even those of you who lost older children probably
have melancholic feelings this time of year as well. September seems to represent a step forward, and our
children don’t get to move forward any move. Hard swallow. But, as my other daughter Hilary moves to
a new grade, I can actually feel the excitement of a new year even though I also feel the sadness that
Stefanie does not. This is the story of our lives, and I finally “get it”. I don’t like it, but at least I get.
I sigh when I think how she might look now as a junior in high school. I wonder if she’d have a
boyfriend and if she’d still be swimming on the swim team. Would she still be getting good grades? We
are even getting junk mail solicitations addressed to her trying to sell her special college testing courses,
etc. Yep, even the marketing world assumes that my daughter is alive even though she hasn’t advanced
from the 4th grade and we’ve moved 2,000 miles away.
So I’m left just nodding my head in acknowledgement that the unthinkable has happened to us,
but time still marches on. It’s just a sort of resignation to the state of affairs of my life that I feel these
days. There’s nothing I can do about any of it, so I try to enjoy my life the way it is and focus on Hilary.
It seems like I sigh a lot in September.
Nanette Jacobs, St. Louis, TCF
One
It was only 1 second, one thought, one decision, one action in a lifetime of seconds, and
thoughts, and decisions, and actions. It was so fast, so permanent, so irreversible, so hopeless.
This moment, this thought, this decision, this action do not define him, do not honor him, do not
immortalize him. It is the preceding 946,080,000 seconds, and thoughts, and decisions, and
actions that define him, that honor him, that immortalize him.
I remember my brother in all of the other seconds, and thoughts, and decisions, and actions that
preceded this one. I remember him coming home from the hospital, lip synching in the
basement, falling out of the tree, biking across campus, coming home from school, from boot
camp, from war… I remember him hiking, and skiing, and running, and laughing, and crying. I
remember how safe I always felt when he was around. I knew he would take care, protect,
defend.
I don’t remember exactly when my brother became an amazing human being – I just looked at
him one day and knew he was. I knew that nothing would make him change his mind about me.
He was without judgment, without prejudice, without preconception. I knew my brother because
we talked and he listened. I respected my brother most for his humanity – for being so sensitive,
so vulnerable, so honest. I loved my brother for sharing the load when it was too hard for
someone he loved to carry alone. I knew my brother because he left so much of him in me.
I trusted and respected my brother's decisions in the preceding 946,080,000 seconds, I have to
trust and respect this one decision the same. I honor my brother by honoring myself. I do not
dwell in that one moment, instead I celebrate and cherish all of the others. In that 1 second,
one thought, one decision, one action, I found the strength he had given me and I will not let him
down. I will not let that one moment be the only one.
Michele Mallory
A PhD in Pain
I didn’t take an entrance examination. I didn’t apply for admission. I didn’t register for classes. I
never completed any assignments. I didn’t write or defend a dissertation.
I didn’t wear a cap, gown, or hood at graduation. I didn’t walk to “Pomp & Circumstance.”
I don’t have this diploma framed on my wall. I don’t have letters I use after my name.
But my son died five years ago.
So, I have a PhD in Pain.
I never wanted one.
Peggi Johnson
TCF Piedmont Chapter, VA
What Is Left?
When a child dies, you ask, among other questions, what is left? A beautiful, sensitive,
intelligent son has chosen to end his life. What can be left after such a crushing blow?
Others will point out that you have a spouse, other children or grandchildren, perhaps
relatives and friends. They are all left. Perhaps you have a career that is left. And yet how
meaningless all of those are to a bereaved parent, to one who is suffering the most devastating
loss of all. So you continue to search for what it is that is left.
You read books on bereavement scarcely remembering what you have read; you attend
meetings, talk with others who have suffered a loss like yours. If you are fortunate you have one
or two good friends who, while they cannot fully understand, are there to love and listen.
Perhaps there is a therapist who guides you in your search for an answer. But for a long while
everything you read or hear has little meaning and certainly cannot provide the answer to your
question. Or can it? Does all that you have read and heard and experienced finally come
together and answer the questions of what is left?
For me it does. The answer was 13 months in coming, but how clear it seems now. I am
left. That’s it! I am left and I have been left with the love of Scott. It is a new love, it is different,
more intense, it is undemanding, it need not be reciprocated, there are no strings attached. I
love this love of Scott’s. It warms me and comforts me. It is a wonderful love, but I cannot keep
it. It would be wrong to do so; this love is too precious to keep to myself.
I am left with love to spare and love to share. It will never run out. He will always be with
me to replenish it. I have found my answer! I am left to share Scott’s love with you.
Betty Stevens
TCF Baltimore, MD
In Memory of my son, Scott
Memories
The certain special memories
That follow me each day,
Cast your shadow in my life
In a certain way.
Sometimes the blowing wind
Or the lyrics of a song
Make me stop and think of you
Sometimes all day long
Memories are good to have
To share and keep in my heart,
Just knowing that you’re still inside
Makes sure we’ll never part.
Collette Covington
TCF Lake Charles, LA
You're Just a Thought Away
Distance takes us far apart
And darkens my today,
I have to keep rememberingYou’re just a thought away.
When the world is too confusing,
And times are hard to bear,
I pull your precious meaning,
Your bright spirit, from the air.
And if I sometimes drift
Into a lonely state of mind,
I gather up the memories
Of the days now left behind.
And though you’re not beside me,
I can tap into my heart
And draw upon the warmth and love
That now lives while we’re apart.
And with these fond reflections
On the times when you were near,
I sense a little bit of what it’s like to have you here…
Bruce B. Wilmer TCF, Brisbane, Australia
Finding meaning in life
You should expect that you will never really “get over” the death of your child, but you will learn
to live with the loss, making it a part of who you are. Your child’s death may compel you to
rethink your priorities and reexamine the meaning of life. It may seem impossible, but you can
go on to find happiness and purpose in life again. For some parents, an important step may be
to create a legacy for your child. You may choose to honor your child by volunteering at a local
hospital or a cancer support organization. Or, you may work to support interests your child once
had, start a memorial fund, or plant trees in your child's memory. It is important to remember
that it is never disloyal to your child to re-engage in life and to find pleasure in new experiences.
Each of your children changes your life. They show you new ways to love, new things to find joy
in, and new ways look to at the world. A part of each child's legacy is that the changes he or she
brings to your family continue after death. The memories of joyful moments you spent with your
child and the love you shared will live on and always be part of you.
Some Thoughts On Rebuilt Engines
All of us who receive this newsletter have experienced something in common—the shattering of
our human machinery upon impact with a son or daughter’s death. Whatever helped us keep
moving before, nothing works for us now. Our lives ground to a halt.
In the stillness of grief’s long night, I felt despair over trying to repair something that would
always lack a vital part. How could I ever rebuild the machinery of my life without that precious
part? Any repair work would require my permission and participation. Looking at the tangled,
damaged parts of myself, I questioned how to salvage anything workable from the wreckage.
Eventually, blessedly, the desire to move again, to get back into life’s traffic, got me doing
something. At first it was tinkering, experimenting with the broken parts, imagining them whole
again. Then I tried to learn by watching others who were rebuilding. It helped to read repair
manuals, painfully written by people like me. The process was tedious and exhausting; there
were setbacks, hidden costs, and false starts.
One surprising day my engine actually turned over—I moved a little. Before long, the motor
sounded stronger. It almost seemed to hum, as I remembered it could. With persistence, I
worked up to a decent speed, regained my sense of direction, and even began appreciating
some sights along the way. I discovered that a rebuilt engine could carry me, despite the
missing part. Occasionally it sputters, misfires, or floods, being sensitive to road hazards other
drivers don’t see. Some hills always seem too steep, certain roads have too many memories.
Sometimes the fog is too thick to drive through. When necessary, I slow down, make
adjustments, or pull off the road temporarily.
I wanted to write about my experience out of gratitude. Each of us has our own long night of
grief and our own reawakening from it. The mystery of healing defies simple explanation. Do
invisible hands help us in the healing process? I don’t have an answer, just astonishment at the
process which moved me from the tangled wreckage of myself to a sturdy rebuilt that appears
whole, even though it isn’t.
In closing, I lovingly acknowledge my daughter, Beth, who believed deeply in the possibility of
rebuilding her own life.
Joan Page
TCF Miami, FL
In Memory of my daughter, Beth
The fruit of silence is prayer.
The fruit of prayer is faith.
The fruit of faith is love.
The fruit is love is service.
The fruit of service is peace.
Author: Mother Teresa
Phone Friends
___________________________________________________
All of the people on the following list are bereaved parents, grandparents, and siblings.
They understand what you are going through and have all wished to be included in this
list in the hope that anyone who needs to talk will reach out to them. They are willing to
talk with you at any time you need their support. Some have listed the specific area in
which they have personal experience but they do not intend to imply that that is the only
topic they wish to talk about. We all have experienced this journey through grief and it
encompasses much more than the specifics surrounding our individual loss. Having a
compassionate person to listen when you are having a bad day or just need someone to
reach out to when you feel overwhelmed can make the difference in getting through one
more day. We have all been there and understand, please feel free to contact any one
of us.
______________________________________________________________________
Laura Hengel
281-908-5197
linnemanl@aol.com
Auto Accident
Pat Morgan
713-462-7405
angeltrack@aol.com
Adult Child
Connie Brandt
281-320-9973
clynncooper@hotmail.com
Auto Accident
Beth Crocker
281-859-4637
thecrockers3@comcast.net
Multiple Loss
Heart Disease
Rochelle Snyder
281-734-0547
rsnyder1220@gmail.com
Young Child
Loretta Stephens
281-782-8182
andersonloretta@sbcglobal.net
Auto Accident
Lisa Thompson
281-257-6837
lisalou862@yahoo.com
Fire
Pat Bronstein
281-732-6399
agmom03@aol.com
Organ Donor
Leigh Heard-Boyer
281-785-6170
boyerbetterhalf@yahoo.com
Substance Abuse
David Hendricks
936-447-1678
dbhhendricks@hotmail.com
Auto Accident
Glenn Wilkerson
832-878-7113
glennwilkerson@sbcglobal.net
Infant Child
FOR FATHERS:
Nick Crocker
281-859-4637
thecrockers3@comcast.net
Multiple Loss
Heart Disease