Words for the Journey

The following is from a transcript of the Open to Hope Radio program on Aug. 22, 2013, featuring an interview by OTH hosts Dr. Gloria Horsley and Dr.

Three knocks at the front door wake me. Two emergency responders greet me with news that my twin daughter is dead. She is 16 years old, me, just 40. An odd clarity washes over me...

The sibling bond is often overlooked when a sibling dies…and siblings do have a very special relationship. When considering grief, it’s the familial relationship least studied. It’s most unfortunate because our children who live often become the “forgotten griever.” And yet, just like us, their lives are not the same because relationships change when a child dies.

I was a woman like many others; focused on my five children and family, living a quiet life on Bainbridge Island in the state of Washington. And then, in August 2004, our lives changed. That night, eight teenagers piled into an SUV and took a midnight joyride. My 16-year-old twin daughter, Sarah, was killed. 

On Tuesday, September 17th, I had the privilege of giving a talk to a book group. Whenever I do a talk, I try not to spend time worrying about what to say.  I am fully aware that I can only present what I believe to be true and hope that it inspires conversation.

Beautiful song: A song about the relationship between life and death.

When I was 13 years old, in 1970, my whole world fell apart. My mother and two younger sisters were killed in an Air Canada plane crash.All 109 people on board were killed that day.My mother’s name was Rita. She was 39.  My sister’s names were Carla and Wendy. They were 11 and 8.

"Learning is finding

I was sitting in New York with a group of bereaved parents when Alan Pederson said that I could fix anything.  I thought well, he’s right.  I am a shade tree mechanic.  Why is that?  Because I have to.

I was talking to a fellow survivor of suicide loss the other day about the intense anger we both felt after our loved ones died (her husband killed himself many years ago), and I was reminded of how raw my rage was -- at my father, at his doctors, at the hospital staff where he died, sometimes at everyone and everything.

Defining My Boundaries

"Many couples divorce after losing a child," offered one well-meaning friend after another in the months following Aly's accident. I can't help but wonder why people feel compelled to share this with newly grieving parents. Meant to be comforting, it is anything but. Yet hear it, we do. And repeatedly.