In the aftermath of her daughter’s death, my friend Isabel’s memory is hazy. She recalls friends surrounding her: they called, sent flowers, prepared meals, made donations, and attended the memorial service. And then silence. In the ensuing weeks, it took all her energy to assume fragments of her routine. Isabel said she exhausted her reserve and could not muster the energy to reach out. Her husband, while shouldering shared responsibilities, felt depleted as well. As Isabel began to comprehend the enormity of her loss, she felt alone.

Isabel has plenty of company as other bereaved parents share similar stories. Most report an overwhelming wave of support during the initial period when the newly bereaved are protected by shock and can barely register their loss. When the numbness wears off and it is time to mourn, friends are sparse. The bereaved might find it hard to find others to share their grief and this is the time when loneliness sets in.  

While many bereaved face the same dilemma, it can be particularly acute for bereaved parents. The death of a child is particularly tragic. It is unexpected and shocking, totally out of the natural order of things.  

Bereaved parents lament not just the disappearance of old friends, but the pain of losing them. They don’t understand why some friends can’t stand beside them in their hour of need. One bereaved parent explains it best: "Some people don't want to feel what we're feeling."

This comment hit home as it happened to me. In one particularly painful exchange, a colleague’s husband told us he had a meeting scheduled the morning of our daughter’s funeral. He could have rescheduled, but was so uncomfortable with the idea of going to a baby’s funeral that he chose not to attend.  

While I, too, lost friends after my children’s deaths, there were friends who stayed the course and embraced the wisdom of Irish statesman Edmund Burke: "The true way to mourn the dead is to take care of the living who belong to them." The friend you thought would be there may not, but someone else you never expected might step into their place. Embrace them and as gracefully as you can, let the others go. The changing nature of friendship is another facet of the mourning cycle.

Robbie Miller Kaplan is an author who writes from a unique perspective as a mother who has lost two children. She has written How to Say It When You Don't Know What to Say, a guide to help readers communicate effectively when those they care about experience loss, available in ebooks for "Illness & Death," "Suicide," "Miscarriage," "Death of a Child," "Death of a Stillborn or Newborn Baby," "Pet Loss," "Caregiver Responsibilities," "Divorce" and "Job Loss." All titles are in Amazon's Kindle Store.

What can you do when a child dies and you want to keep their memory alive? That's what one mom asked. She was deep in grief and she didn’t want her little girl forgotten. She wanted her daughter to remain a part of her life, but she was in so much pain, she couldn't figure out how to do it.

When our son and daughter died in infancy, my husband and I also searched for ways to remember and honor their memory. We donated a rocking chair to the children's hospital where they were treated because there were never enough rocking chairs. It bore a plaque that stated it was in our children's memory and the doctors told us that they thought of us whenever they used the chair. We also donated children's books to a library and had a label affixed in memory of our children. And we  established and donated to a research fund at the hospital where they were treated.

In Elizabeth Edwards' book, "Saving Graces," she shares a number of things she did to keep her teenage son Wade's memory and spirit alive. She donated funds to create a computer lab in his memory at a local school and she also volunteered there. To remember Wade on the first anniversary of his death, she worked with a local ice cream store and prepaid for a number of cones. She then printed vouchers for a free ice cone in Wade’s memory that she distributed to children on the anniversary of his death.

A reader shared something similar; she ordered from a fast food restaurant and when it was time to pay, she was told her bill had been paid for. She was given a certificate that said she had been gifted with a random act of kindness in memory of a deceased child. It included a website that was a memorial to the child. The same reader shared that a friend’s family made magnets to remember their beloved daughter and sister. They chose a quote: “Remember Cathy and live life with a shout not a whisper.” They had the quotes printed on regular printer paper and used magnet kits purchased at office supply stores. Family members keep the magnets on their refrigerators and it gives them an opportunity to think and talk about Cathy.

If you, too, are aware of creative ways to keep your loved one’s memory alive, please share them with us.

Robbie Miller Kaplan is an author who writes from a unique perspective as a mother who has lost two children. She has written How to Say It When You Don't Know What to Say, a guide to help readers communicate effectively when those they care about experience loss, now available as e-books for "Illness & Death," "Suicide," "Miscarriage," "Death of a Child," "Death of a Stillborn or Newborn Baby," "Pet Loss," "Caregiver Responsibilities," "Divorce" and "Job Loss." All titles are in Amazon's Kindle Store