I learned to be comfortable with the bereaved because at a young age, I was the bereaved. I witnessed firsthand how young friends, their parents, my neighbors, teachers, school officials, relatives, and family friends treated and interacted with me upon learning of my father's death.

And yet it was my mom who taught me how to comfort the bereaved. She connected by phone, cooked a meal, visited the bereaved, and continued to help long past when others ceased to call. It was her model that I emulated and used to teach my own children: death is a part of life and the bereaved need our support.

Not everyone feels at ease comforting the bereaved. And if you’re not comfortable, how will you teach your child to be comfortable?

One of the ways to instill compassion in your child is to work on a comforting activity together. This is how my neighbor Susan did it.

Susan and her best friend Abby were pregnant at the same time. Susan’s baby, Lisa, was healthy; Abby’s baby, Beth, wasn’t. Beth was born with a disfiguring congenital defect for which there was no cure or repair and her parents were told that she had only months to live.

Susan and her daughter spent a lot of time with Abby and Beth as well as Abby’s older daughter Sara. When Beth died at age two, she had lived much longer than expected. Susan was a gifted writer and she chose to write the story of Beth’s life. She wanted big sister Sara to know that despite Beth’s disfiguring illness, she was much loved and during her short time on earth, her life was meaningful and she made a difference.

While working on the project, Susan shared what she was doing with her daughter Lisa and Lisa colored the illustrations Susan had drawn. Together, Susan and Lisa presented the book to Abby and Sara. Abby has shared that during the five years since Beth’s death Sara continues to get comfort from the book. She shares it with new friends as it is a comfortable way to tell the story of Beth’s short life and death.

Since Beth’s death, Susan has used her writing talents on several occasions. She has written stories and poems for friends and loved ones who are bereaved. Now, Lisa offers to draw the illustrations. She’s learned firsthand from a compassionate mom how to be compassionate too.

​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

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Copyright Legacy.com  Used with permission

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.


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 at a reduced price for 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.
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My mother was a wise woman and a wonderful teacher. While we shared a lifetime of learning, it was not until her death that I realized she forgot one important lesson: She never told me how to live without her.

I’m not alone. Even though the death of a parent is the natural order of things, everyone I know has struggled with the death of a parent. Whether the relationship is a good one or bad, we never seem to be ready to lose them, no matter their age or ours.
 
It was the death of my dearest friend that spurred me to begin thinking of my own death. At the cemetery following my friend’s funeral my daughters asked, “Is this the cemetery where you would like to be buried?” As my husband and I had not had this discussion, it was a good place to start. We chose to respond to our daughters by asking them what they wanted. “Will you visit a grave site?” we asked, and “Do you want us buried in a place where you can come and grieve?”

In the following weeks, I began to explore funeral and burial options and ask myself the hard questions. For instance: What kind of life do I want my children to have when I am no longer with them? I knew that I do not want my children to feel as lost as I did when my own mother died.  

And so, my family began a series of discussions on a topic that one daughter calls, “The sad stuff.” Whatever it might be called, I am undeterred. There are decisions to be made on cremation services, niches versus cemetery plots, and the merits of a variety of burial/funeral fees. Our talks gravitate towards my wishes should my spouse survive me to thoughts and feelings about a range of topics. I want my daughters to understand and embrace that life should be lived without regret. And to accept that the world will continue and so will they, even when I am no longer by their side.
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There never is a good time to talk about death and yet I have seen the chaotic aftermath when the topic is avoided and feelings are left unsaid. I have chosen a different route for my family. My children now know how I feel and they will not be left with a burden of decisions to ponder when I am gone. It’s also freed up my mind to better embrace and enjoy the rest of my life.  


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

Photo AnaRusso via photopin

Copyright www.legacy.com  Used with permission

It’s not uncommon for the bereaved to feel regret. While anyone bereaved can feel regret, children and young adults can be particularly vulnerable. They have less experience with life and death and have yet to understand how fragile life can be. Regret is a deep sadness over what we perceive as missed opportunity and it’s the last thing we want to feel when a loved one dies.

Prince William and Prince Harry disclosed their regret that they cut short their final phone call with their beloved mother, Princess Diana, just hours before she was died in a car accident in Paris. Prince Harry shared: “I can’t necessarily remember what I said, but all I do remember is regretting for the rest of my life how short the phone call was.” Prince William and Prince Harry were just boys at the time. How could they have possibly known that this would be their last chance to speak with their mother?

As a child, I had regrets too. My father fought cancer for five years and died when I was eleven. I was too young to understand that my father could die and I was unable to remember the last time I said, “I love you.” Not wishing to repeat this “regret,” or any other for that matter, I made it my mission to express my feelings openly. No one I cared about would ever need to wonder how I felt. While my mother was alive, I made every effort to demonstrate how much she was cherished and ended every conversation by telling her I loved her. I continue to do the same for every precious relationship in my life.

How can we know that a visit, phone conversation, or connection with a friend or loved one will be our last? We can’t. What we can do is accept life’s frailties, taking advantage of opportunities to build and maintain meaningful relationships.

Our loved ones would not be happy if we tied their memory to regret. Instead, make their legacy a personal mission to live your life to the fullest. 

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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

Copyright legacy.com  Used with permission
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Photo: I've Had a Few, But Then Again, Too Few To Mention via photopin

With families settled all over the country, even the world, it can be difficult to come together to mourn a death. That’s what happened to a friend when her nephew died in Alaska. Her immediate family was spread out on both coasts and a funeral in Alaska was logistically impossible. Her nephew’s death was a devastating loss to my friend, her husband, and their children. Their inability to attend funeral rituals left them without any sense of closure.

What can grieving families and friends do when many members are geographically scattered?

1. Hold a memorial service in another part of the country for friends and loved ones unable to attend the funeral. That’s what my family did when my mother died. My mother’s funeral was in California. My immediate family, local relatives, and friends who did not travel to the West coast for the funeral were able to share their loss, cherish my mother’s memory, and support me at a memorial service in my home.
2. Conduct an online memorial with your family via Skype or another form of group chat. Plan ahead with readings, stories, or photos, anything that will help family members interact, grieve, and feel some sense of closure.
3. Organize an event when you will all be together to remember and honor your loved one. You can plant a tree in their memory, all helping in the selection and planting. Or, you can be creative and make a donation to a place the deceased loved that is accessible for you to visit, such as having a plaque added to a bench in their memory at a favorite park or a tree planted in a public space.
4. Create an online scrapbook together using Shutterfly, Snapfish, or another online photo service. Use the same login so each member can add their personal photos and journal memorable stories and anecdotes. When you have completed the album, purchase a copy for each family member.
5. Choose an annual way for the family to honor your loved one when you are together that ties into your loved one’s passion, whether it is education, clean communities, or feeding the hungry.
6. Designate a day for all of you to light a memorial candle, either on the anniversary of their death or their birthday.

Do not allow distance to come between you and your grief. Look beyond traditional mourning rituals to find a strategy that helps you and your family grieve.


Adapted from Legacy.com.  Used with permission

There seem to be no conversational boundaries when it comes to death. The bereaved are often subjected to inappropriate comments and questions that can shock, hurt, or leave us speechless. We are often left wondering, how can friends, family, colleagues, neighbors, and even acquaintances say or ask that?

It can be especially stressful when someone you truly care about hurts you. A week after my mother died a friend inquired, “Do you think she knew she was going to die?” I hadn’t pondered that question, but after our conversation, I could think of little else. And as much as the question pained me, I never told my friend; I did not want to lose her friendship.

I’m not alone. It is very hard to articulate your feelings when mourning a loss and even harder to do it tactfully. Sometimes it is not just inappropriate conversation; there are people who just cannot understand our loss or our pattern of grief. It can become too difficult for them or us to continue the relationship while we mourn our loss. It is not uncommon for the bereaved to distance themselves or walk away from some friendships.
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So, how can you handle inappropriate comments or questions?

• For starters it can be helpful to understand that most people genuinely feel sadness for you but, they just do not know what to say. Maybe they have never experienced a death so they have no way to put it into context. In their discomfort, something inappropriate pops out.
• If someone makes you uncomfortable, remove yourself. If you are on the phone say, “I hear someone at the door” or “Another call is coming in.” If you are in person say, “It’s good to see you” and then exit. Or, “I have some other business to attend to.”
• You can always draw a boundary and say, “I’m not prepared to discuss this.”  Most people will back off but, it takes a lot of energy to deal with difficult questions and energy is what most bereaved lack.
• Most important, surround yourself with supportive and understanding people while giving yourself the time and space to heal. There will always be understanding people who do know what to say and do, so gravitate to them.

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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.


Couple in a park photo via photopin (license)

copyright Legacy.com  Used with permission

A reader asks, “How can I help my friend who is deep in grief over the death of her sister and at times takes her anger out on me?”

It takes understanding to be supportive of someone both heartbroken and angry while grieving their loss. But, this is what good friends do. You can help a friend deal with their grief in any of the following ways:

1. Physical activity is a wonderful way to channel anger and refocus. You and your friend might make a date to take a weekly walk together in the evening or sign up for an exercise class together. You might need to arrange to pick her up to make sure it happens.

2. Sometimes the best way to help heal is to help others. When you can't seem to help yourself, seeing how your efforts can make a difference in someone else's life is very uplifting. Volunteering can be a wonderful distraction.

3. Your friend might need more than you to discuss her grief. Is there a community or religious organization that has a support group? You can do an online search to see what’s available in your area. Even if your friend is not a member of a specific faith, they might be very willing to have her attend.
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Everyone grieves in their own way and in their own time and mourning a loss is exhausting. If you are patient with your friend, in time she will be able to more fully participate in your relationship. 

photo credit: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/70838083@N07/10501280313">George Washington Bridge</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com">photopin</a> <a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/2.0/">(license)</a>

I thought I knew everything there was to know about grief. After all, I’d faced some terrible losses by my early thirties. And yet my mom’s death really shook me. The grief and sense of loss was devastating and I found it incredibly hard to pull myself together that first year.

From my experience, I’ve learned that every loss is different and one loss doesn’t necessarily prepare you for the next. Unlike other life experiences, the more practice you have doesn’t make you any more competent at coping nor does it make it easier. Grief isn’t like any other life event. It doesn’t matter how many times you go through it; each time is unique and each loss leaves a different void in your life.

That’s just one good reason to never say to the bereaved, “I know how you feel.” Because you can’t possibly know how someone feels. Just because you lost a mother, a child, or a spouse, your loss is unique to you. None of us knows the personal history or relationship between the deceased and the bereaved and that unknown plays a big factor into the grieving process.

Each of us grieves in our own time and in our own way. And if you are to heal, you must fully mourn your loss. It’s hard to see someone in so much pain and I think that’s the reason many people shy away from the bereaved. But you can’t hurry someone through the mourning process. What you can do is be a friend. Stay the course, listen when they need to talk, and remain by their side. Isn’t that what you’ll want someone to do for you?

My grandma died at 97 and I was heartbroken. It was partially because she helped raise me and I adored her, but it was also unexpected.

“Unexpected?” you might say, and some people did. But she didn’t die at an age that was expected of her generation. She had outlived so many peers and younger relatives, I was sure she would live to be 100.

What difference should it make how old someone is when they die? Shouldn’t we extend to the bereaved the same sympathy and level of support, no matter how old or young the deceased?

In retrospect, I didn’t get much sympathy when my grandma died. One colleague said upon hearing of her death and her age, “Didn’t you expect her to die Robbie?”

Just because someone has lived a long life, does that mean the loss is any less painful? No matter how old someone is when they die, the bereaved deserve the same consideration you would extend to anyone who has lost a loved one. Age doesn’t diminish the pain of loss and the mourning process is still the same.

​Photo courtesy of author

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