It’s difficult to witness the physical and mental decline of a friend or loved one with a debilitating illness. In fact, it’s hard not to grieve while they are still alive, as responsibilities and relationships shift and lives change. Some might think that death would be a relief and grief shortened, but that’s not often the case.

My mother declined over a period of 18 months, and during that time, our roles steadily reversed. I loved her dearly, relying on her strength, and I grieved for her as she retreated from my life. Following surgery, she bravely and with great determination fought her way to recovery and amazingly flew by herself first west and then north for family visits. She died just three months after her visit with me.

The morning after her funeral, my first emotion was relief: I would no longer have to worry. No more frequent phone calls or arguments as I pleaded with her to forgo habits and activities that put her at risk. That relief quickly mushroomed into overwhelming grief, and it would take me time to learn how to live without her.

One friend had a different experience. She shadowed her parents during the year her father bravely fought cancer and again the following year when her mother’s cancer spread. By the second funeral,  she felt numb. Surely she grieved in those early days as she and her siblings settled the family estate, but she shared that she had done most of her grieving while her parents were still alive.

Another friend’s mother had dementia, and it robbed her of seven years of her life. Her mom’s decline was excruciating to watch. While driving her mom to the doctor one day, my friend’s mother asked, “Are you my mother or my daughter?” My friend lost control of the car and hit a parked car. After that incident, my friend prayed that her mom would pass away and find some peace. When the day finally came and her mother died, my friend was inconsolable. She grieved deeply until her own death, just eighteen months later.

Grief is such a personal experience. We all grieve differently based on our personalities, relationship with the deceased, life experiences, and probably a host of other factors. And we grieve in our own time. Just because we have a warning that a loved one will die doesn’t mean we are prepared for the loss. No matter the relationship or the age, few people are ready to say goodbye. Each of us needs the time, space, and extended support to heal and, hopefully, find peace. 

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.
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Photo: Magdalena Roeseler via photopin

​Copyright Legacy.com Used with permission

Every Memorial Day, I look for red poppies; the crepe paper variety, sold by veterans. I usually find mine outside a grocery store. And I wear it all day.

The poppies evoke such a special time in my life that I usually find a visible place to display them long after the holiday. And when I see one around the house, it brings back vivid memories of my father and the Memorial Days we shared while I was a little girl.

My dad was a veteran of World War II and after his discharge was active in the local Veterans of Foreign War (VFW) post. Our local VFW sponsored our town’s Memorial Day parade. I never got to watch the parade; I got to participate in it.

Each year, my father drove a car with a veteran from World War I. It was a tribute for the veterans but also special for me; I got to ride in the back seat. Our small town put on quite a parade and I felt fortunate to be part of it.

After the parade, my father took me and my two siblings back to the VFW post. We’d play softball out back and there was always a cookout. I don’t know why, but my mom stayed home. This was a special opportunity for us three kids to have time with our dad; nowadays we would call it quality time. Years later, it was all the more poignant after his early death.

So every Memorial Day, and Veteran’s Day too, I search for the poppies. I love to share my story with the veterans I meet; and it’s important to support all the veterans who give so much for our country, even in this small way.

Those simple poppies make me feel a sense of patriotism along with a connection to my family roots. I get a little red flower to wear for the day while paying tribute to the veteran I knew best, my dad.

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 in three individual volumes: "Illness & Death," "Suicide" and "Miscarriage." Additional titles are available as e-books: "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. Click here to order.

Image Source: StockXchng/straymuse

Copyright www.Legacy.com  Used with permission

No matter how old you are you are never prepared to lose your mother. Mothers play such a unique role in our lives and they are irreplaceable. When your mother dies, the grief can be overwhelming.

There is so much lost when you no longer have your mom. Who will ever remember your favorite cookie, cake or entrée? Not only remember it, but get pleasure in making it for you?

When you have great news, who will you call who will revel in your success? Who will take pride in everything you do and who will never tire of seeing photos of your child, dog or most recent vacation?

I miss the familiarity I shared with my mom because there is no one else who will ever know me so well. Years ago, I took my mother along while shopping for hair color. I stood in front of the array of boxes, desperately trying to remember what my color once looked like. My mom picked up a box and said, “This is your hair color.” She knew me better than I knew myself because the color was just right.

So what do you do when you don’t have a mom and Mother’s Day is approaching? That depends on where you are in the bereavement process.

• Still grieving your loss? You might find comfort joining other family members or loved ones also grieving. Or, you might want to find a way to distract yourself and just get through the day by watching a movie, fixing yourself a nice meal or taking a walk. Keep in mind that every first occasion without a loved one is going to be hard.
• A mom yourself? It might help to focus the day on you and enjoy your family and the fruits of your labor.
• Another option is to help others. For the last few years I have been contributing to a nonprofit that provides weekend meals to the elderly who are homebound. I like to think that I may be helping someone else’s mom. Or, contribute to a food bank in your mom's memory.

If you have lost your mom and found your way it would be a blessing to reach out to someone with a recent loss who may be floundering. Helping someone grieving the loss of their mother is great way to honor your own.



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 in three individual volumes: "Illness & Death," "Suicide" and "Miscarriage." Additional titles are available as e-books: "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. Click here to order.
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Image provided by the author

In the scheme of things, we expect to outlive our parents. It is in the natural order that we anticipate that our parents will die before us. And yet it seems that nothing prepares us for the loss – the void we feel following their deaths.

When my last parent died, I felt I had lost my buffer. Without my mom, there was no longer a layer that protected me. When she was alive, no matter what happened or what curve life threw my way, I had someone older and wiser to lean on and learn from. My mom was wise and she continually helped me put my life and experience in perspective. 

Many friends share the difficulty of caring for a mother or father who is sick and failing. Roles shift and the child becomes the caretaker. But even in sickness, a friend shared that she was able to sit close and lean her head on her mother’s shoulder. Just the very act was comforting, even though their roles had reversed.

It is during the role reversal that many of us grieve for the parent we have already lost. And we might think that in grieving and accepting the loss, we will be prepared for the finality of death. But many of us find that nothing prepares us for our parent’s death; especially our last parent.

The pain of losing a parent can be intense. I’ve heard this is true whether you had a good relationship or not. Most friends shared that the first year was the hardest. I found this true and was grateful as I moved into the second year following my mother’s death.

When my grief lingered, my husband encouraged me to find others to fill the void. “Look for someone older to establish a relationship,” he suggested. But I had lost more than my mother; within a year of her death, my last aunt died along with most of my mother’s close friends. I felt as if I lost an entire layer of my life.

So how did I move on? I did cultivate a stronger bond with my siblings and that helped me feel the continuity of family. But in my mother’s absence, I myself filled the void and took on her role. I learned how to comfort myself and my family. I became stronger and looked to myself for answers. Even today, if I have any doubts, I replay my mother’s messages over in my mind. She did her job well and I learned from the master. “Things have a way of working out,” she often said and you know what, they usually do.

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 in three individual volumes: "Illness & Death," "Suicide" and "Miscarriage." Additional titles are available as e-books: "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. Click here to order.
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Copyright www.Legacy.com  Used with permission

Adults have a lot to offer teens by way of experience, so we expect teens to learn from us. And yet there are times when adults can learn from them.

When a teenager dies, it’s often a teen’s first experience with death. Teens grieve for their peers differently than adults and some of their practices are healthy. Here’s what adults can learn from teens:

1.     Teens grieve in groups. They congregate together during the funeral and afterwards. They huddle together in circles and grieve in a communal manner. They frequently comfort each other by hugging.

2.    Teens grieve openly and don’t try to put on a face. They’re not embarrassed to cry.

3.    Teens are the memory keepers and they share their stories. No matter what the relationship, whether friend, classmate, intimate, or acquaintance, they will dredge up every contact, every shared experience, and reminisce.

4.    A teen funeral attracts hundreds of teens; everyone turns out even if they hardly knew the teen or the teen was an acquaintance.

5.    Teens can overwhelm the bereaved family, wanting to hang out at the teen’s home so they can comfort the family and feel close to the teen that has died.

6.    Teens use online forums, such as Facebook, to express their grief. Months and years later, they continue to post and share their feelings and memories.

So how can adults grieve more like teens? We adults can show our support for the bereaved and all turn out for the funeral, whether it’s a neighbor, colleague, congregational member, former teacher, or a community member. We can grieve more openly, not being afraid to shed our tears in front of others. We can look after each other, grieve in groups so we share our loss, and comfort each other so no one has to feel alone in their grief. We too can be memory keepers, searching for encounters and stories and sharing them with the bereaved family and our peers so we don’t forget. While we don’t want to overwhelm the bereaved family, we can visit, keep them company, listen, comfort them, and share their loss. We can use a forum (online or off) to express our grief, perhaps even notes, letters, and emails to the bereaved to let them know we remember their loved one and they’re not forgotten.

While teens will continue to learn from us, if we’re open to new perspectives, there’s a lot we adults can learn from them.
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.
​Copyright Legacy.com.  Used with permission.


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The death of a loved one brings significant change. We are no longer a spouse, parent, sibling, child, or friend. Life is completely thrown off course and every aspect of it is altered, including our social order, financial circumstances, and relationships. We view the world through a different lens and as we mourn our loved one, our perspective shifts.

Grieving a loss is like finding yourself caught in an emotional tsunami; everything seems out of control, with no notion of how to reign things in. It can feel as if you’re stumbling in the dark, searching for a calm port in a raging storm.

As the days turn into weeks, and the weeks become months, most of us begin to get a grip on things and start to find our footing. We realize we are adjusting and slowly reenter the world. But as we pick up the threads of our lives, we find one change that is difficult to absorb: Without our knowledge or consent, we have changed.

One bereaved spouse shares: “I miss the old me.” You might also be missing the mother, daughter, sibling, or friend you used to be. But maybe what you are pining for isn’t the old you, but the sheltered you. The you that did not know such pain existed; the you who did not know what it would feel like to be left fatherless, motherless, parent-less, sibling-less, spouse-less, or childless.

While we continue to mourn our loss, it becomes evident that life changes are inevitable. While moving through our grief we begin to see the possibility of positive outcomes. Coming face to face with life’s fragilities helps us focus on our priorities, recognizing what’s truly important. And while we might have lost the ability to see the world through rose-colored glasses, we have gained greater empathy for others facing loss.

You may be surprised to see that a new “me” emerges from your grief. The new me is just a different version of the old me, one that feels older and wiser. It will take time to adjust to the new me. Once you do, you’ll be in a place to make better decisions to move you forward. 

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.
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Photo: blavandmaster Out of the blue via photopin

copyright Legacy.com  Used with permission

Tangible reminders are what keep our loved ones close and a continued part of our lives. Here are some ways to keep your memories alive, not just for you but for generations to come.

My friend's dad died several years ago but she thinks of him often; his golf hat and golf clubs are a constant reminder. She stores them where they are visible and she smiles when she sees them. A cousin wore his dad's coat the first winter following his father's death and a friend found great comfort using her mom's handbag while she grieved her death.

These stories made me think of my grandma. She was constantly in the kitchen and she always wore an apron. I wear an apron too and every time my hands reach behind me to tie the bow, I think of my grandma. And I've continued her legacy by giving every family member an apron.

These tangible reminders are what keep our loved ones close and a continued part of our lives. I was reminded of this when we celebrated my daughter's birthday at a restaurant. All grown up, I was surprised she wanted us to sing the family birthday song. The song dates back to my mom's camping days and my mom made it a part of our family's celebrations; I've passed it on to mine. My husband, daughter and I tried to sing quietly, clinking our glasses on cue. I thought how special it was that my mother's legacy is still very much a part of our lives and now that my daughter is a mother herself, I have very confidence that my daughter will pass it on to another generation.

Here are some ways to keep your memories alive, not just for you but for generations to come:

1. Display photographs where you can see them often, and use them as a way to share a story with other family members and friends.

2. Prepare and integrate family recipes into your daily life and holidays and let everyone know their history.

3. Share copies of your loved one's recipes. When I share a recipe from my mom, I always title it "Jean's ***," and it always gives me pleasure. And I have recipes in my personal cookbook that bear the names of my friends' loved ones.

4. Use a family heirloom, such as a serving piece, at holiday time, reminding your family of its history and all the occasions it's served.

5. Pass on family heirlooms to family members that will use and treasure both the item and the memory.

6. Tell stories and tell them often. Your personal stories will become part of your family's history.

7. Copy documents and share them with other family members to preserve and cherish your loved ones.

8. Document personal history and memories, creating a written story to be passed down to generations to come.

​Photo credit: memories_fcc-rachel_zack_1600x500-1170x366.jpg

This article was written by Robbie Miller Kaplan for LegacyConnect, Legacy’s grief support center. 
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.

There is no way around it: Grief is painful. It’s hard to experience it yourself and it’s terribly difficult to watch someone you love go through it. But what’s the alternative? 

You can try to medicate your grief, but at some point you have to stop and the pain comes rushing back. Distractions do help, but if you are not grieving your loss, eventually distractions end and you are once again left with the pain. 

So what does work?

It's important to allow yourself to fully mourn your loss so you can ultimately accept it and move on with your life. But that doesn’t mean that you can’t begin to re-enter during the mourning process. In fact, making your way back into the world goes a long way in helping you work through your grief.

Patience and purpose are helpful healers. Activities and deeds, such as work, hobbies, interests, and volunteering are excellent ways to distract while helping the mind refocus. And when you’re in a place where it’s difficult to feel joy, there is satisfaction in accomplishing tasks and joy in helping others.

Transitions are never easy and this is a tough one to make.  Everyone works through grief in their own way and in their own time, so cut yourself or your loved one some slack and go with what works. Be patient and most important, be kind to yourself.

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.
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