september 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.
SEPTEMBER 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, Sept. 8th)
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
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………
SEPTEMBER BIRTHDAYS
1961- David Hendricks, II, Son of David Hendricks
1965- Sandra ReNae Southerland, Daughter of Vivian Southerland, Sister of Tim
1989 & 1991- Dillon & Alex Gussie, Sons of Debbie Benavides
1971- Brian D. Klaus, Son of Johnny & Ginger Klaus
1977- Matthew Brown, Son of Cathy Brown
1978-Kenneth Roberts, Son of Brenda Johnson
1993-Brittany Idabell Miller, Daughter of George & Kathy Miller
1981-Nicholas (Nick) Skala, Son of Judy Skala
1955-Deborah Levy, Daughter of Pat Morgan
1986-Evan Michael Smith, Nephew of Kaye Larberg
1960-Jeff Walker, Brother of Stephanie Thrift
1984-Julee Ann Serna, Daughter of Virginia Serna
1982- “Bo” Jared Valdez, Son of Irma & James Valdez
1990-Shannon Stovall, Daughter of Charlie & Liz Stovall
1991-Matthew Allen, Son of Jay & Linda Allen
2003-Ryan Moody, Son of Gloria Moody
1985-Ryan Gibler, Son of Susan Gibler
1961- Donna Weston, Daughter of Roberta Ware
1991-Brayon Molden, Step Son of Reagan Molden
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.
Today I celebrate the life you lived and the blessing that you were to me
during your time on Earth. I remember you. I feel you.
I know you exist in my heart and elsewhere.
I love you.
Today,in your honor,
I celebrate Life.
Lighting a candle, remembering a life
SEPTEMBER ANGEL DATES
2003-Jeff Costin, Son of Carol and Richard Costin
2009- Kevin Thrift, Son of Stephanie & Tim Thrift
2007- Stephen Cage, Son of Melanie Cage
2008- Patrick Williams, Son of Poppy & Steve Williams
2003- Geoffrey Lynn Meier, Son of Gary Meier
2002- Adrian Jay, Son of Helen Jay
2003- Justin Fletcher, Son of Karen Fletcher
2009- Jeff Shinsky, Son of Margaret Butler
2002- Aaron James O'Neil, Son of Lisa Thompson
2006- Amanda Jane Franklin, Daughter of Jane Draycott
2008- Terry Shannon Pauling, Son of Howard & Jean Pauling
2006- Marlinda Raschke, Daughter of Gloria Raschke, Sister of Kevin Raschke
2008- Christine Marie Frazier, Daughter of Steven R. Frazier
2011- Grant Goodwin, Son of Linda Foraker
2011-Lucy Gale Sanders, Daughter of Steve & Jackie Sanders
2012-Charlotte Caldwell, Daughter of Jason & Rebecca Caldwell
2012-John Steven Sims, Son of Marilyn Sims
2004-Zack “Moose” Triplett, Son of Trina Cash
2013-Aimee Hurst, Daughter of Doris Odell
2014-Aaron Fontaine, Son of Doug & Tina Fontaine
My Angel Day
Yes Mom, this is my Angel Day
From my earthly life, I know I left quite soon
But only to enter my greatest reward in Glory
Far beyond the moon
Today you’ll perform your loving rituals
And do your best to keep my memory aware
Yes Mom, this ritual is for both of us
For I am both here and there
Donald Moyers
TCF Galveston County, TX
CHAPTER NEWS
Our next meeting is Tuesday, September 8th at 7pm.
A Warm Welcome to Our New Members - We’re Glad You Found Us.
To our newest members—we offer our warmest welcome. 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.
Love Gifts – A Way to Remember
There are no dues to belong to Compassionate Friends, because we have already paid the
ultimate price; the loss of our loved one(s). A Love Gift is a gift of money given in honor of a
child, who has died, or a gift of thanksgiving that their own children are alive and well, or
simply a gift from someone who wants to help support our Chapter. Your gifts are tax
deductible and are used to reach out to other bereaved parents, grandparents, and siblings. Your
gifts support this newsletter, our TCF Library, and other Chapter expenses.
There's Help —The Power In Talking
One of the most valuable things you can do is talk it out with a good listener. We now know that
the stress level of bereaved people can be cut in half when they talk about the death to someone who
does not judge or advise them.
Having someone as a backboard to hear your thoughts bounced off is the greatest gift you can
receive. Too often, everyone wants to make you feel better, so they try to advise rather than listen.
Remember, repeating your story is healthy. Talking about your loved one, the illness and/or
death, works like a sponge. Each time you talk, a little more of the pain is squeezed out and the need to
talk about the incident becomes less. It's as if your story is being framed within your mind. Soon you can
hang it on the wall. You'll always have it there to look at whenever you want, but you no longer have to
carry the whole thing around with you and be burdened and controlled by the past.
There will be times when no one is around to listen. You'll need to do something different. Talk
into a tape recorder. Keep a journal to write down your thoughts and feelings. Buy a journal just for this
purpose. Select a color that you like and write when there's no one around and you need to talk. Talk
out loud as you write if it makes you feel better.
Write a letter to your loved one who died. This can be a very powerful process. Share your
thoughts and feelings. Pour them out on paper. You may feel emotionally drained afterwards. If so,
nurture yourself. Examples: Wrap yourself in a blanket and take a nap, watch a movie, or hold and/or
pet the family pet. You may even find it helpful to write a letter back from the person who died.
Others have found that just talking aloud or into a tape recorder was helpful. Some stand in
front of the mirror to talk. As a friend once said to me, "Don't worry about talking out loud to yourself.
It's good to have a conversation with an intelligent person." However you do it, remember: "Talking it
out is one of the best medicines of all."
While some people won't want to listen to you, you'll also find they can say some really stupid
things. Offer them suggestions for kinder, more compassionate words they can use with bereaved
people. It will help them to help you and others more effectively because some people really want to
help, but just do not know how.
When you go to a support group you will find others who understand. You will meet other
mourners with similar feelings and problems. They can provide tremendous emotional affirmation. Why
not come to the next meeting? This group of bereaved parents listens, even to those who say nothing.
Come, listen, share if you want to, receive love and compassion. You do not have to walk alone. Come
walk with us.
Extracted from More Than Surviving—Caring for Yourself While You Grieve , by Kelly Osmont, MSW
Reprinted from TCF Cape Fear Chapter, Wilmington NC August 2003
THE DAY THE MUSIC DIED
On February 3, 1959, parents would lose children, siblings would lose brothers
and grandchildren would die. This was the day a plane crash took the lives of
singers J.P. Richardson (The Big Booper), 28, Buddy Holly, 22, and Ritchie
Valens, 17. Since all three were so prominent at the time, February 3, 1959,
became known as "The Day the Music Died."
At the time of his death Ritchie Valens was a young man with superstar
potential who, even though was still in his first year as a recording artist, had
already made a name for himself in the music industry.
Growing up music would become a large part of my twin brother Alan's life. His interest in "The Wizard
of Oz" would lead to an admiration of Judy Garland and in time Liza Minnelli. He had seen many of Liza's
concerts often sending her mail-grams of well wishes much to my mother's disapproval. It was her fear
that he would get arrested for harassment. We would travel often to other concerts as well including
Billy Joel, Bruce Springsteen, Diana Ross, Whitney Houston, Kenny G and Yanni.
Alan's interest in music and the arts began in high school with the artistic productions. After graduation
from Temple University he would become entrenched in the Philadelphia culture scene. Much of his
free time was spent volunteering for arts, dance and theater organizations. His name would be listed in
the credits of many artistic productions. He, like Ritchie Valens, was just starting to realize his dreams.
Then came June 25, 1992. Alan had died of an AIDS related brain tumor that had started not more than
two months earlier. This was for me, the day the music died.
Don McLean immortalized the February 1959 tragedy with his 1972 hit song "American Pie", a song that
took Alan and me years to understand and memorize. I would mark my personal tragedy by constantly
changing the radio station, so much so, that I thought I would break the buttons. A break-up song would
remind me too much of my loss. While in a friend's car I had him turn off the radio rather than risk
crying. Then one day a few years later, upon leaving the cemetery, on the radio I heard Whiney
Houston's "The Greatest Love of All". Alan and I had recorded an awful rendition at a Hershey, PA
amusement park recording studio. We agreed that no one else would hear that dreadful outcome. I
switched stations twice only to hear the song two more times. It was my reflection that Alan was telling
me to enjoy the music once again. Take pleasure in life and to do what we enjoyed doing together. I
heard Alan's voice saying the words inscribed on Ritchie Valens grave "Come On, Let's Go".
By Daniel Yoffee,
TCF Board of Directors Sibling Representative
Reprint from We Need Not Walk Alone
In every life we have some trouble, when you worry you make it
double don't worry, be happy... Bob Marly
That Special Memory
By: Pat Loder
Reprint from Summer 2010
We Need Not Walk Alone
I think every bereaved parent has one. I wish I didn't sometimes but I do. It stops you cold
in your tracks and the lump in your throat can be as big as a grapefruit. Swallowing becomes
hard and tears sting your eyes. An uncontrollable force takes over your body; you just have
to go with it. You can be driving down the road, shopping in your favorite store, or sitting in
a sidewalk cafe having a cold iced tea on a hot summer day when suddenly it happens.
What is "it," you may be asking? That doesn't happen to me, you might be saying. But I
just bet it does. It's THE SONG. What's THE SONG you're saying? It's THE SONG you
hear when you least expect it-and it reminds you of your child. Ah, yes, now you're
nodding your head! It happens to you too. For everyone THE SONG may be different,
even for parents of the same child because they each carry their own special memory of
that child. In my house, however, my husband and I share the same song-From a Distance,
by Bette Midler.
Bette Midler recorded the song in 1990. I'm not sure what month, it doesn't matter. But
whenever my four-year-old son, Stephen, heard that song he would come running so he
could stand beside the stereo and sing along. He had this sway thing going on and his hands
would go up and down like he was leading the orchestra. As time went on he learned all
those lyrics, and he would sing out loud and crisp:
From a distance the world looks blue and green and the snow-capped mountains white.
From a distance the ocean meets the stream and the eagle takes to flight . . . The first time I
heard that song after Stephanie and Stephen died I was frozen in place trying to catch my
breath. I was sure my heart had shattered into a million pieces.
From a distance there is harmony and it echoes through the land. It 's the voice of hope, it's
the voice of peace, it's the voice of every man . . . There was not harmony in my heart; it
echoed with pain. Voice of hope? Peace? Surely I would never find hope or peace again.
From a distance we all have enough and no one is in need. And there are no guns, no
bombs, and no disease, no hungry mouths to feed . . . Oh, but I was in need. I needed my
children. I needed the pain to go away. I needed peace!
From a distance we are instruments marching in a common band. Playing songs of hope,
playing songs of peace. They're the songs of every man . . . I did not feel like I was
marching in a common anything. I was the odd person out. My children had died, and I
was different from anyone I knew.
Oh,yes! THE SONG can have a profound impact on bereaved families. Most especially
when our pain is so acute it feels like we are walking through shards of glass.
My children died in March of 1991 - it really wasn't very long after Bette Midler recorded
that song. The music stopped in our house for a very long time as we tried to cope and
familiarize ourselves with the new us.
Now when I hear THE SONG I try to close my eyes and envision a small boy with huge
brown eyes singing along in perfect pitch. He has that sway thing going on and his hand is
going up and down like he's leading the orchestra. From a distance there is harmony, and it
echoes through the land. And it's the hope of hopes, it's the love of loves. It's the heart of every
man. His huge brown eyes meet mine and we share the moment. I can see his eyes
are saying that he too watches over me, and there really is hope, and love, and better days
tomorrow. It 's the heart of every man. ••
Permission to reprint From a Distance lyrics granted by Julie Gold, songwriter
Enduring the UNENDURABLE
By: Nita Aasen
Article take from We Need Not Walk Alone, Summer of 2003
Until the deaths of my two young adult sons, Erik, 27, a physical therapy graduate student, and
David, 25, a math teacher and tennis coach, in a freak car accident on Thanksgiving Day, 1994, I
hadn't given much thought to what the term "emotional pain" really meant. With my previous
grief experiences I had been sad and cried, but I had never been truly jolted or grieved for a
sustained period of time. It was only after my sons' deaths that I truly understood how the death
of a child was likely to activate the bomb of emotional pain like nothing else could during a
lifetime. Any preconceived notion that I had about the grief experience had been shattered. But
how exactly, could I describe what this emotional pain really felt like?
In describing their grief, many bereaved parents used words similar to these: "There was no way
I could ever have imagined such pervasive and encompassing emotional pain. I never believed
I could hurt this much." I agreed completely, but what exactly did it feel like?
In titling his book Beyond Endurance (Schocken, 1986), Knapp captured the reactions of
bereaved parents to their severe and intense grief. If that level of pain would have never let up,
it would, indeed, have been beyond endurance. But what exactly did it feel like?
In referring to emotional pain, many grief-related books convey that bereaved parents are
equally vague about what it really feels like. Without any words to describe the intensity of the
emotional pain, it was difficult to describe to others that parental grief is about much more than
extreme sadness; about much more than frequent jags of intense crying.
So, as I tried to come up with an answer to my question , I began reaching back into my
memory bank and remembered an episode of the flu where I began retching after my stomach
had been thoroughly emptied. It felt as if my stomach was trying to pull my entire digestive
system out of my body. After it was over, I knew I never wanted to go through that again.
That memory precipitated the thought that emotional pain could, perhaps, be symbolized by the
unrelenting ripping and repeated retching of my devastated soul trying to separate itself from
the rest of me. The intensity level of these unyielding cries, erupting from the depth of my
being, captured my soul's agony. That emotional pain was of a depth, breadth, and scope that
I never could have imagined. It made my retching from the stomach flu pale in comparison. It
was more than I thought I could possibly endure.
Fortunately, bereaved parents who have been on the grief road for a few years consistently report
that these raw grief episodes occur less frequently and with less intensity, and when they
resurface from deep within, recede after a shorter amount of time. Thankfully, I have come to
the point where I usually am able to tame the intensity of the retching before it grabbed me and
pulled me back to square one.
What astounded me after surviving these repeated retchings was finding out just how resilient I
really was. I discovered that, along with other bereaved parents, I had prevailed over
circumstances beyond any event I could have previously experienced or could have imagined.
Having endured the unendurable, I came to believe that I would have the emotional, mental,
and spiritual resiliency, along with the courage and strength, to face whatever else may be in my
future.
Faith is taking the first step
even when you don’t see the
whole staircase.
-Martin Luther King Jr.
Holding Hands Through the Veil
In silence, it reaches out slowly,
Through a veil of perceived separation,
Calling your name as a gentle invite.
Its embrace is compassionate love.
The Light beckons, so patient and tender,
Causing my heart to grow painfully sure,
That our time spent together on this earthly plane,
Is complete in our hopes and much more!
Looking back with that radiant smile,
You thank me for helping you grow,
Adding, "This is not a goodbye, but rather a door
To the place that we know as our home."
You ask me to try to be happy,
Promising you'll never be far from my side.
Then you say with a smile, "Watch for the dimes,
As well as other gifts I hope you will find!"
So even now as you walk through the doorway,
I feel your spirit stays close to my soul.
And I whisper, "goodnight," with tears-and with joy,
For the great gift of the love that we share.
By Cathrine Patillo
What to Do With Anger
Anger is one of the most difficult emotions for me to express. Reared as a “proper" young lady, I
was taught that anger was not becoming. Many of the women I have spoken to were similarly taught.
I found, however, I did not have the tools to deal with the deep anger that came shortly after the
death of my daughter. My anger was spilling over to people who did not deserve it, or I vented excess
anger by overreacting to some situations.
With the loving care and patience of several people, I developed some tools that helped me to
express my anger. Rather than trying to suppress my angry feelings, I learned to release them in
constructive ways. Hopefully, some of these coping techniques will be helpful to others.
EXERCISE - This is a great way to release anger, plus get into shape! I joined the YMCA, swam twice a
week, did "Y's Ways to Fitness" three times a week, and walked three to five miles each day. At first, I
was concerned about doing so much exercise because I have a very bad back, so I took it easy and worked
my way up to my present routine. I always feel much better after a good workout, and I had the extra
benefit of getting out of our home and back into society.
After my daughter's death, my life felt so out of control; but as I became more fit, I regained some
control. This renewed strength aided in my recovery.
Exercise decreases stress levels and aids in controlling depression. Since grief can also make us
more vulnerable to physical illness, exercising and taking care of our health is important. Even daily
walking is good therapy.
WRITING - When the anger bubbled up in me, I would write. Many times I didn't know where to begin,
so I just started by writing, "I am angry because. . . “Soon, my thoughts were coming faster than I could
write them down. After I had expressed my anger in writing, I often discovered that the sources of my
anger were different than I had imagined. It usually sifted down to just being angry about my daughter's
death. The technique of writing about your feelings is especially nice because you can just throw away or
bum your words and the anger with them.
PAINTING - There is nothing like taking bright oils or acrylics and stroking them over an open canvass.
I had not painted in over fifteen years, but I went up into the attic and got down the easel, brushes, and
paints. I always felt better after a good painting session. Those times were very private for me and no one
ever saw my creations, but they were helpful in expressing my anger.
TALKING - Sometimes I would call a good friend and just rant and rave. My friend was a very good and
non-judgmental listener. She realized that most of what I said in anger I did not mean. She never gave
advice or held me to my "anger" statements. She just lovingly listened.
This technique calls for a careful choice of friends who can maintain confidentiality and are not
afraid of anger. It is even more helpful if the friend has had a similar loss.
ENERGY - Convert anger into energy and use that energy to change the world. Angry with the limited
support that mothers of children with Spinal Muscular Atrophy (SMA) had in their communities, I
converted that anger into action. I joined several nationwide support groups and helped to bring their
support into our community.
My anger was further converted into energy which I used to raise money for SMA research. I
baked over 700 loaves of bread (a lot of anger there!) for a fundraiser. My friends saw my energies and
joined in to help. Together, our efforts raised over $6,000 in under
six weeks! This kind of energy can be contagious.
Reaching out to others can help in healing. If something good can come from our tragedies, it can
add meaning to their deaths.
EGGS - Yes, eggs! When I just could not resolve my anger with any of the above techniques, I would
take a dozen eggs and a black felt-tipped pen and go into the back yard. Writing the reason I was angry on
the egg, I threw it at the back fence. At first, I thought this was a little crazy, but after throwing the first
egg and watching it shatter, I felt so much better!
I always used just one word to describe my anger. It might be: Death, SMA (the disease my
daughter died of), Husband, A friend's name, God. No one need know what you write on that egg!
Afterward, the birds would have a treat eating the eggs; and listening to their happy noises while having
their treat, eased my anger.
These are some of the techniques I used to express my anger. It is OK to be angry, and it is
important to express, not suppress, anger. Suppressed anger can result in deep depression.
It is also all right to be angry with God. He is forgiving and understands our emotions. He would
rather have us be angry with Him than shut Him out.
Penny A. Blaze
TCF New Canaan, CT
Forgive Unto Forever
Grieving is a fierce and overwhelming expression of love thrust upon us by a deep and
hurtful loss. Yet, grieving is frequently such an entanglement of feelings that we often fail to
recognize that ultimately forgiveness must be an integral part of our grief and our healing. For
what is love, if forgiveness is silent within us? We learn to forgive our children for dying,
ourselves for not preventing it. We begin to forgive our God or the fate we see ruling our
universe. We start to forgive relatives and friends for abandoning us in their own bewilderment
over the onslaught of emotions they sense in our words and behavior.
I believe we must be open to the balm of forgiveness. Through its expression in our lives,
be it through thought, word, or deed, we find small ways to seek life once more. Deep within us,
forgiveness is capable of treading the wasteland of our souls to help us feel again the love that
has not died.
It is the beginning of release from the dominance of pain, not from the continual hurt of
missing those we have lost, but from lacking the fullness of the love we shared with our child.
That love lives with strength inside ourselves and yet our beings are so entrapped in a whirling
vortex of anger, despair, frustration, abandonment, and depression that we often feel it only
lightly.
Let us all heed the quiet message heard so softly in that maelstrom of the spirit. Forgive,
forgive, and forgive unto forever. Let love enfold our anguish, helping us to learn to grow and
strive beyond this hour to a rich tomorrow.
Don Hackett
TCF Hingham, MA
The Circle
The body is silent
Not a thought in mind
No pain to bear
Life’s troubles left behind
The soul has shed the body
The spirit is finally free
The body is no more
The soul will always be
Now within the ecstasy of eternity
The soul can now proclaim
With this ultimate totality
I am now, from which I came
Donald Moyers
TCF Galveston County, TX
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