BALTIMORE, MARYLAND—I thought the cherry blossoms wouldn’t wait for me, but thank God they did.
They had begun to bloom a week before I left on this trip, and my heart was a bit saddened at the thought that I would not be able to see them in all their glory. But there they were, waiting.
In Berkeley, I chanced upon them as my friend Joi Barrios and I walked down a path after I had lectured in her class. A few days later, on Dupont Circle in Washington, DC, there they were once more, lined up against the city’s beautiful brownstones. And even here, in Baltimore, there they were, looking out into the tranquil bay.
A second spring—that’s how I feel on this trip, which has been, to sum it up, most healing: a second chapter after a long, harsh winter.
Yesterday, as I sat in one of the sessions in my grief conference, I was moved by a video that featured talk show host Stephen Colbert, who said that for many, many years as a child, “Loss was my hidden name.”
Colbert had lost his father and two older brothers in a plane crash. He was only 11 when it happened. And yet, for the next eight to 10 years of his life, he was unable to talk about it or come to terms with it.
Woundedness
That’s how it is for most children who lose their parents very early. That’s how it was for me. It is a woundedness that we carry for most of our lives and, no matter how old we become, we never truly forget. Andy McNiel of the National Alliance for Grieving Children (NAGC) spoke about the ways that we, as adults, can help minimize the impact of grief on children who have lost their parents.
McNiel says that the most important determinant to “successful” grieving, according to a Harvard Bereavement Study conducted on children who had lost their parents between the ages of 6 and 17 by William Worden and Phylis Silverman, is the child’s relationship with the surviving parent.
In other words, the surviving parent becomes a role model for the child on what healthy grief is all about. “It’s the child who takes the cue from the parent, and not the other way around.”
That’s not an easy thing to do, considering that the parent may be overwhelmed by grief herself/himself. However, it is really up to the adult to take the lead.
In another survey of 531 children between the ages of 9 and 18 by the NY Life and the NAGC National Poll, when asked about what was most helpful for their grief process, 55 percent stated “spending time with family,” while 59 percent said “spending time with friends.” Other significant answers were listening to music (49 percent), staying busy (46 percent), going to grief group (42 percent) and talking to other grieving children (41 percent).
Even more poignant for me were the children’s replies to the question, “What is your grief like?”
86 percent wished they had more time (with the loved one who passed)
73 percent think about the person every day
47 percent believe their life will be harder
46 percent cannot believe that it’s true
45 percent have trouble concentrating in school
41 percent engage in harmful behavior/choices
Having been that bereaved child once in my life (I was 16 the summer my dad died), I can fully appreciate and understand where these children are coming from. If someone had asked me that question 33 years ago, I would have given the top four answers.
Losing my father affected many different areas of my life, and its impact is something I have had to grapple with all the way up to midlife. Any child who has lost a parent will probably tell you the same thing. We are all affected deeply, just in different ways and degrees.
Bereaved child
The bereaved child will not always talk, and he or she must not be forced to. Instead, a supportive, loving and caring environment must be provided so that the child can grieve properly in an environment where she feels safe and not judged. This is applicable not only to the death of a parent, but any other loss, or in the event that a child witnesses or experiences something traumatic.
I was once told by a wise nun that it’s never too late to have a happy childhood. I’m not saying that mine was not; it was, in many ways. But there was also a lot of sad and difficult days, more so when my father died so very suddenly, ripping away my sense of security and trust in the world.
However, children grow up, and we all become adults who have to find ways and means to cope with the world—and we do, somehow, until another loss comes and we once again confront all those feelings we had as children. In midlife, we finally find the courage to peel off all those layers of hurt and sadness, until we strip them all off and finally confront what it was that caused us the deepest pain.
It is also also when we realize and become grateful for all the pain we had, because it is in the darkest of nights, by God’s grace, that we discover strengths we never thought we possessed. We find out who our true friends are, and how His grace, no matter how long in coming, will never, ever leave us where it first finds us.
It was fun recreating a happy childhood on this trip, never losing the wonder as I gazed upon His masterpiece. Finding myself in awe once more of places and things that reminded me of my father. Seeing old landscapes with new eyes.
Albert Camus said it best: “In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer. And that makes me happy. For it says that no matter how hard the world pushes against me, within me, there’s something stronger—something better, pushing right back.”
The winter of my life is over, and by His grace, a second spring has finally come.
E-mail the author at [email protected]. Follow her on Twitter @cathybabao.
