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Frankonal Conference 2011

Meetings are held the 1st & 3rd Thursday of every month Hospice of the Bluegrass

Frankfort Office 643 Teton Trail

Frankfort, KY @ 6:30 P.M. Chapter Leader &

Regional Coordinator Dusty Rhodes (502) 330-4769 Email: drhodes@fewpb.net

Secretary Connie Eggen (502) 321-1056 Email: sissysmom0409@aol.com

Treasurer Helen Thompson (502) 395-0213

Newsletter Editor Katrinka Jennings (502) 330-0300 101 Crab Orchard Rd, Frankfort Email: teddysmom1218@aol.com

Newsletter Distribution Mary Rhodes (502) 330-5191

Email: mrhodes@fewpb.net

TCF Librarian Debbie Jackson (859) 873-9552

Steering Committee: Dusty Rhodes, Karen Cantrell Connie Eggen, Katrinka Jennings, Helen Thompson, Joe & Patti Hyman

Frankfort TCF Website http://thecompassionatefriendsfran

kfortky.com/ Webmaster Karen Cantrell (502) 320-6438 Email: Karen821285@yahoo.com

Address: The Compassionate Friends of Frankfort, KY. P.O. Box 4075 Frankfort, KY 40604-4075

Website for National Office www.compassionatefriends.org TCF National Office P.O. Box 696 Oak Brook, IL 60522 877-969-0010

My Dad is A Survivor

My dad is a survivor too

which is no surprise to me.

He's always been like a lighthouse

that helps you cross a stormy sea.

But, I walk with my dad each day

to lift him when he's down.

I wipe the tears he hides from others;

He cries when no one's around.

I watch him sit up late at night

with my picture in his hand.

He cries as he tries to grieve alone,

and wishes he could understand.

My dad is like a tower of strength.

He's the greatest of them all!

But, there are times when he needs to cry...

Please be there when he falls.

Hold his hand or pat his shoulder...

And tell him it's okay.

Be his strength when he's sad,

Help him mourn in his own way.

Now, as I watch over my precious dad

from the Heavens up above...

I'm so proud that he's a survivor...

And, I can still feel his love.

The end.

Copyright 1998 Kaye Des'Ormeaux

Dedicated to all dads who have lost a child & was forced to survive.

THE COMPASSIONATE FRIENDS NEWSLETTER FRANKFORT, KY

June 2011 Volume 8 Number 2

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Our Children Remembered Forever In Our

Birthdays

2 Zachery Morey, son of Steven & Audrey Morey 3 Amanda Wainscott, daughter of Kathy Wainscott

15 Paige Johnson, granddaughter of Judi Patton 20 Cambrie Mae, granddaughter of Debbie Hanna 25 John William Carr, son of Carole Carr

25 Ryan Wright, son of Tricia Ricketts 27 Eric Derossett, son of David & Debbie Derossett

Remembrance

3 Teresa Ann Palmer, daughter of Charles & Phyllis Palmer 7 Benjamin Harley, son of Charlie Harley & Julie Hill 7 Nicholas McCathy, son of Nancy McCarty 8 B.J. Blanton, son of Regina Blanton 11 Ralph Coomer Jr., son of Dana Coomer brother of Teresa Mays 21 Chris Nesselrode, son of Susan Nesselrode 24 Sean Sykes, son of Rebecca Feland brother of Mary Spalding 27 Jessica Whisman, daughter of Sharon Howell

The Butterflies Are Coming

It's spring! The butterflies are coming. Many of us at TCF hold the butterfly with utmost regard, for it is a symbol of our child's life after death. We think of our children being born into a free and more beau-tiful existence after the drudgery of a caterpillar's life here on earth. But what about us? Does the but-terfly hold an even deeper meaning for bereaved parents? It seems, in fact, we have died also. We are never the same after the death of our child. But, can we be transformed into a beautiful creature or are we doomed to be trapped in the web of a cocoon forever? I believe it is simply a matter of choice. We can stay in the silken threads which we have spun for ourselves. It's quite safe there. Perhaps if we isolate ourselves with a really tough cocoon, no one can ever reach in far enough to hurt us again. But if we take a chance on emerging into a new person, the light of our children's love will have a chance to shine through our newly formed wings. It won't be easy. The grief cocoon holds anger, fear, guilt and despair. But we can work through it. In fact, there's no going around it. All but-terflies must work their way through an ugly cocoon. The butterflies are coming. Won't you join them?

by Kathie Silief

Don’t Forget

July 24, 2011 Our Annual

Brick Dedication & Picnic 2:00 PM

Cove Springs Park

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Order Conference Memento "Star of Hope" Online

Save the Date: TCF's 34th National Conference will be held in Minneapolis/St. Paul July 15-17, 2011 at the Sheraton Bloomington Hotel. You will find it to be another great conference with around 100 work-shops, sharing sessions, special keynote speakers at the Opening, Closing and Friday Afternoon and Satur-day Evening banquets, Hospitality Room, Butterfly Room, Reflection Room, a completely stocked books-tore, special Friday evening entertainment and a Re-membrance Candle Lighting. TCF's Walk to Remember will be held Sunday morning.

For more information visit www.compassionatefriends.org

For only the second year, online submission of photos of our beloved children, siblings, and grandchildren, and ordering, is available for a very unique conference fun-draiser, this year's Star of Hope. The conference logo, reflecting the theme “Shining Stars, Guiding Hope” is a depiction of one of Minneso-ta’s “10,000 lakes” outlined by a serenely beautiful north woods scene. A flock of butterflies seems to vanish into the horizon where they meld into glistening stars shining in the heavens. We look at our children as shining stars who remain for us beacons of light and hope in the darkness. A rectangular version of the logo is the basis for the Star of Hope and includes silhouetted pine trees, gleaming stars, and a single butterfly where the child’s picture will be inserted with his or her name. That logo insert with picture will be artistically framed by a 4”X6” silver, vertical wire star-frame ornament with an attached ribbon for hanging. These will be displayed at the confe-rence in a special area. The minimum donation for each picture submitted re-mains $10 again this year. If you cannot attend the con-ference and would like the picture frame sent to you, then an additional $5 donation is requested to cover postage and handling. For more detail and a larger sample picture, and to order, please go to http://www.compassionatefriends.org/National_Conferences/Star_of_Hope_Photo_Upload.aspx .

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It’s June It might have been her wedding. It was supposed to be his graduation day; his friends are there—he is not. You had always planned to take them to Disneyland, but it is too late for that, now. When they died, they took some of your future as well; they took your dreams for them. They left a hole in your life and you will never feel completely whole again. Should you accept those invitations to weddings and graduations? Only you know what is comfortable for you. Give yourself all the room you need, no matter what anyone else says. Perhaps this year, you will want to send a card or gift instead of attending the event. One mom said she left a graduation with mixed emotions. She ached for her son’s place in line, getting his diploma; but she also felt honored to have been invited by her son’s friend and proud when they brought her flowers “for Jim,” and she loved hearing all the stories about her son that they shared. What you have left is the love you feel for them, the memories that they left you—these will always be a part of you. In this way, they are a part of your future. This is a very sad and difficult time for you, so do something nice for yourself today. Isn’t that what your child would have wanted? L. F. Skagit TCF, Mount Vernon, WA

Love Never Goes Away Why does it hurt so much? Why is this grief so incapacitating? If only the hurt weren’t so crushing?” Sound

familiar? All of us have known hurts before, but none of our previous “ouchies” can compare with the hurt we

now feel. Nothing can touch the pain of burying a child.

Yet, most of us have discovered that the sun still comes up. We still have to function. We did not die when our

child did, even though we wished we could have. So…we are stuck with this pain, this grief, and what do we do

with it? Surely we can’t live like THIS forever!

There are no magic formulas for surviving grief. There are a few commonly recognized patterns for grief, but

even those are only guidelines. What we do know is that the emptiness will never go away. It will become tolera-

ble and livable…some day.

Time…the longest word in our grief. We used to measure time by the steps of our child…the first word, first

tooth, first date, first car…now we don’t have that measure anymore. All we have is time, and it only seems to

make the hurt worse!

So what do we do? Give ourselves time…to hurt, to grieve, to cry. Time to choke, to scream. Time to be “crazy”

and time to remember.

Be nice to yourself! Don’t measure your progress through grief against anyone else’s. Be your own timekeeper.

Don’t push. Eventually you will find the hours and days of grief have turned to minutes and then moments…but

don’t expect them to go away. We will always hurt. You don’t get over grief…it only becomes tolerable and liva-

ble.

Change your focus a bit. Instead of dwelling on how much you lost—try thinking of how much you had. Try let-

ting the good memories come over you as easily as the awful ones do. We didn’t lose our child…he died. we

didn’t lose the love that flowed between us…it still flows, just differently now.

Does it help to know that if we didn’t love so very much, it would not hurt so badly? Grief is the price we pay for

love. And as much as it hurts, I’m very, very glad I loved!

Don’t let death cast ugly shadows, but rather warm memories of the loving times you shared. Even though death

comes,

Love Never Goes Away!

Darcie D. Simms

TCF, San Antonio, TX

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Many people will walk in and out of your life,

But only true friends will leave footprints in your heart.

But You’re Absolutely Normal! Grief is a normal reaction to loss, and it shows up in many ways you might not expect. If you've… • been angry with doctors or nurses for not doing enough, • been sleeping too much or not enough, • noticed a change in appetite, • felt no one understands what you're going through, • felt friends should call more or call less or leave you alone or invite you along more often, • bought things you didn't need, • considered selling everything and moving, • had headaches, upset stomachs, weakness, lethargy, more aches and pains, • been unbearable, lonely, and depressed, • been crabby, • cried for no apparent reason, • found yourself obsessed with thoughts of the de ceased, • been forgetful, confused, uncharacteristically absent minded, • panicked over little things, • felt guilty about things you have or haven't done, • gone to the store every day, • forgotten why you went somewhere, • called friends and talked for a long time, • called friends and wanted to hang up after only a brief conversation, • not wanted to attend social functions you usually enjoyed, • found yourself unable to concentrate on written material, • been unable to remember what you just read, …you’re normal.

These are all common reactions to grief. They take up to two years (or more) to pass completely, but they will pass.

You’ll never forget the person who has died, but your life will again become normal, even if it is never exactly the same.

Take care of yourself. You will heal in time.

Joanne Bonelli ~ TCF, Greater Boise Area, Idaho The Compassionate Friends Tyler, Texas

Perhaps they are not stars but rather openings in heaven where the love of our lost ones pours through and shines down upon us….to let us

know they are happy.

The Gift of Someone Who Listens By Nancy Myerholts

Those of us who have traveled a while Along this path called grief, Need to stop and remember that mile, The first mile of no relief.

It wasn't the person with answers Who told us the way to deal, It wasn't the one who talked and talked That helped us to start to heal.

Think of the friend who quietly sat and held our hands in theirs, The ones who let us talk and talk and hugged away our tears.

We need to always remember That more than the words we speak, It's the gift of someone who listens That most of us desperately seek.

Grief is lonely because it threatens other happier people and isolates individuals. If someone listens and shares tears with another, it is still lonely. But not as much. --Anne Morrow Lindberg

Grief is like weeding a flower gar-den in the summer.

You have to do it over and over again until the season changes. Fay Harden TCF Tuscaloosa, AL

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Fathers in Grief,

By Mitchell D Carmody, Hastings, Minnesota

The loss of your child can be crippling and leaves deep scars. It changes who we are, how we look at life, and

how we relate with the world. Five or six years out is still early in the spectrum of child loss but close to the

point where positive rebuilding can begin. One thing that I have discovered that helps pull you out of the can-

yon of despair is compassion for others, because it is in giving that we receive and in healing that we are healed.

In the first few years, it is hard to even help yourself much less others and we mechanically maintain. We weep

a lot and lick our wounds while clinging desperately to everything related to our child and in secret wish to join

him. We rejoin the real world at our own time, and it happens when it is right for us. Everyone’s journey is dif-

ferent, but what remains the same is the huge void that is left in our lives. How we fill it, is up to us. I believe

we need to fill it with something positive for others, something that creates a legacy of good in our child’s

name. We now become the legacy, and we substantiate our child’s life by the way we live ours.

In our “modern day” society, it is especially difficult for fathers to grieve openly, caught in a catch 22 of how to

express the deep pain we are experiencing. Men don’t cry, men do not emote, men do not hug (except maybe at

the funeral), men don’t go to support groups, men don’t call in sick because they are screaming inside, because

we are the men of the family. Fathers are the fix-it guys, the protectors, the strength and the rock the family

needs for support. More times than not people will ask a father, “How is your wife doing? This must be ex-

tremely hard for her.”

The modern male is now given (by women therapists) license to show emotions, to cry, scream, hug and ex-

press their deepest emotions and fears, to let it out. The irony of this is that if the man emotes and the family has

never seen this behavior, this behavior is taken as a sign of weakness. The spouse and other family members

feel they have lost their safety net, their rock of support and they feel even more helpless and rudderless on this

journey of pain. If this happens, he may again “clam up” to help with his family first and deal with his own pain

later. He finds that “letting it out” is an axiom of sophistry and in doing so, he feels he is letting his family

down. Indeed a paradox for the “wanna-be-sensitive” dad! Most men cry alone in their cars on the way to work,

and they explain that the red eyes are due to allergies or a late night. When my father died when I was fourteen,

my mother told me that I was the man of the family now, and I did not cry, let alone grieve. It was not until

years later and my losses became overwhelming that I finally let it out and expressed my emotions for the loss

of my father. It has been sixteen years now since Kelly died, and I still cry with my wife when we feel our loss

together or even when I hear a special song like Wind Beneath My Wings. I do not care who is present. You

love hard, you grieve hard, and it is supposed to hurt. When you recognize your own pain and express it, you

automatically become more empathetic to others in similar pain and can help relieve theirs. Now, I even cry

when I see Hallmark Card commercials—I can’t help it.

People tell us to find closure, to move on and not to dwell on it. We can, but not how they think we should. We

find closure in what will never be, let go of the what-ifs, the “shoulda-woulda-couldas” and move on with the

knowledge that our children are forever by our side, only in a new relationship. We live in one sphere of exis-

tence, our loved one who has died in another, but with faith, undying love and the desire, we can connect at the

seam where our two worlds meet. Love never dies.

In America (and Australia), we are allowed a few weeks to “get over it” and then we have to “get back on

track”. The dead are wrapped up neatly, so to speak, and put away, and their names remain unspoken. I find this

totally unacceptable. It has been almost sixteen years and I still talk about Kelly every day and always will. We

will always be bereaved parents, but we will not always be experiencing the pangs of grief. Like suffering from

arthritis, we learn to live with grief for the rest of our lives, and also realize we shall still have flare ups of pain

and discomfort as we move on through the years.

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It's Worse at Night Written by Clara Hinton | Sep 07, 2003

The pain of losing a child is often described as a feeling like having a hole right in the center of your heart. The hole leaves an empty, alone feeling, and nothing seems to be able to bring comfort or joy for a very long time.

Every parent who has gone through child loss knows that feelings of deep, inconsolable grief do eventually be-come more bearable, and for most parents, joy does slowly return. A parent’s heart is able to heal, and that empty hole in time will not feel so raw and lonely. That takes a long time, though, and it takes lots of struggles and tears as a parent treads the difficult path of child loss.

Keeping busy and interacting with others during the day often helps a parent to get through the grief a little bit easier. Taking care of the daily tasks of everyday life often keep a parent’s mind busy enough not to dwell on all of the painful details of losing a precious child.

Many parents express a sincere dread of the night, though. When all is quiet and the lights are turned off, one must come face-to-face with grief, and the pain is once again inescapable. Many grieving parents cannot fall as-leep, and their hurting hearts become more consumed by loneliness than ever imagined when night arrives.

If you find yourself falling into a cycle of not being able to sleep because the grief overwhelms you at night, talk to your doctor. It might be necessary to take a short-term sleep aid to get you through the anxious moments of being alone at night with your grief.

Practice taking deep, cleansing breaths. By slowly breathing and repeating calming words, you can help to re-duce the anxiety associated with being alone at night with your grief and fears.

Pray. There is a peace that is associated with prayer that is healing to the mind, body, and soul. When a parent can express fears and heartfelt emotions through prayer, a feeling of calm often follows. Many grieving parents have claimed the phrase “let go and let God” as their remedy to getting a calm and peaceful night’s sleep.

Remember that morning will come. Often, our greatest fear is that this feeling of complete darkness following the loss of a child will never leave. Remind yourself often that every day is one day closer to the time when you will see the sun begin to peek through the clouds again. Grief will not always consume you. Joy, even though dif-ferent now that your child has died, will return to your broken heart and you will begin to see life through new and different eyes.

Finally, remember that it is normal to have difficulty dealing with grief at night when your grief is still very fresh. Every problem seems to magnify when darkness falls, and grief is no exception to the rule. Turn on a light; get up and fix a cup of warm milk or a soothing cup of herbal tea. Put on some headphones and listen to a healing CD or listen to a calming radio station. You will no longer feel alone in the dark, and morning will arrive before you know it.

Strangers & Friends Bereaved parents gather monthly and tell their stories again and again. The pain is evident on their faces yet strength comes deep from within. To simply attend these meetings is courageous. We enter as strangers, and we depart as friends. I've attended our group meetings for over four years. I never had the honor of meeting these children in life, yet I know them intimately—how each lived, and how each died. Some of us were blessed to have our children several years, and others only a few. Some children lived just a few months, days or minutes—and some never too a breath. Still, our pain and emp-tiness is universal. Our grief is universally unique. As individuals our journeys lead us in many directions, yet once a month we come together, to tell our stories again and again. These strangers, these people I call friends.

Kathy A. ~ TCF, Fort Collins, CO

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I'll Always Be Your Dad

By Alan Pedersen Years have come and gone and time has surely drifted by

I've searched for any answer yet I'm left to wonder why The only thing I know for sure through the happy and the sad

No matter what the circumstance I will always be your dad Not a day goes by that I don't hold you in my heart

My love reaches far beyond this space we are apart These empty arms remember all the good times that we had I may be standing here alone but I will always be your dad

Some won't understand so I don't bother to explain They look into my eyes but they can only see the pain Afraid to look too deep as they are blinded by the fear If only they could know a father's love won't disappear

So when this road gets lonely and the journey seems too hard And I get to feeling sorry that I didn't get a card

If I close my eyes I can almost hear you say

I love you and I miss you daddy..Happy Fathers Day

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