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

Nothing prepares us for difficult news. Friends or loved ones may say, “I have something I need to tell you,” or, “I wish I could tell you this in person.” When we hear these words, most of us understand we’re going to learn something that’s not easy to hear.

Cancer is a scary thing. Even with medical advances and longer life spans, we still fear the word cancer. And that’s not the only disease that frightens us. What do you say when a friend or loved one shares, “I’ve been diagnosed with cancer (or some other difficult illness)?”

Most likely, you’re caught by surprise. So you may respond honestly, “I’m shocked as you must be. I don’t know anything about this cancer (or other illness).” That leaves the door open for your friend or loved one to explain things. While they’re talking, you should have enough time to get your bearings. When there is a lull in the conversation, you might ask, “How are you doing with all of this?”

What doesn’t help? Crying or showing your distress. Your friend or loved one is dealing with their own emotions and fears; it’s not their job to comfort you. This is one of those times when you need to gather your strength and put on a strong front. Shed your tears in private and confide your fears to someone else.

When the news is shocking we must stand tall. And lend our strength to the loved ones that need it.

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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Your Facebook feed keeps you informed through the quips, quotes, and photographs that friends post. Most of the news is happy banter, but more and more we learn sad and tragic news from our friends through social media.

When the news of a young adult who died by suicide was posted on Facebook a few years ago, I was surprised. The funeral arrangements followed along with an outpouring of condolences for the family. People were “liking” posts and condolence messages and yet Facebook felt like an impersonal place for such visible grief.

Nowadays, the most universal means of sharing news of a death is through social media. It’s become so commonplace that I purposely check my Facebook feed more regularly to ensure that I don’t miss any difficult losses happening to my friends.

It seems inevitable that our friends, sharing their happy times, would share their sorrows. Last week, another young adult in my community died. The news was shared on Facebook by the bereaved mom. Legions of support quickly surfaced in Facebook feeds. An obituary in the local paper was linked to Facebook and details of the memorial service were disclosed.

Within hours after the funeral, the obituary and eulogies, along with tributes, were appearing on Facebook. Heartfelt condolence messages were posted and so appreciated that they solicited likes. Tributes on BuzzFeed and YouTube continue to appear with no end in sight.

Uncomfortable topic

While death remains an uncomfortable topic, Facebook has come to play an important role in bringing grief into our national conversation. When Sheryl Sandberg, Facebook’s COO, lost her husband, her candid posts on Facebook elicited a wellspring of condolences and further opened the dialogue on death. Mark Zuckerberg, the co-founder and chief executive at Facebook, wrote on Facebook about his experience with miscarriage, and he too shared his grief openly.   

Facebook allows us to memorialize our loved ones through tribute pages, giving friends and family a place to remember and reminisce about the deceased. These open communities help us feel less isolated in our grief. They give us a shared space to post our photos and grieve our losses.

A more current trend is to post photos and memories of our deceased family members and friends on their birthdays and the anniversaries of their deaths. It is a way for our friends to remember their loved ones and elicit support from their social network.  

So how do you, as a Facebook friend, deal with loss? It is perfectly acceptable to express your condolences on Facebook. Feel free to write a comment of support, like another’s post, or share your own memories or photos of the deceased.

If you are uncomfortable talking so publicly about the pain of loss, you can ignore it. Just continue to handle condolences in the more traditional ways. Whatever you choose to do, one thing is for sure, social media is going to continue to define and re-define the ways in which we communicate.

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 ConsumerAffairs.com

A neighbor wonders, “Is it too late to send a condolence note six months after a death?” I’m not aware of a statute of limitations when it comes to condolence notes, but how late is too late? Is it appropriate to send a note six months or even one year after a death?

One bereaved friend says it is never too late to express your condolences. “Your loved one is in your heart and mind every day and it is comforting to know that someone else is also thinking of them.”

Treat each case individually. Have you known about the death for many months and procrastinated? Or, did you just learn of a death, for example a high school or college friend, and wish to contact the parents or sibling(s)? Evaluate each case on its own merit. You might ask yourself, “What is it I want to say and what makes me want to reach out?”

The following example is a belated sympathy note you might write for a former classmate that died seven months ago:

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Hiller,

Please accept my apology for this delayed note, but I just learned of Paul’s death. I was unaware he was ill and I’m terribly saddened to hear of his untimely death. You both have my deepest sympathy.

Paul was an extraordinarily special person who touched many lives. I was so lucky to have him as a roommate freshman year and he made my transition to college much easier. We supported each other through many challenges and I’ll always be grateful for the integral part Paul played in my life.

Despite living on opposite coasts, Paul and I managed to retain our friendship and when we had time to spend together, it was if no time had elapsed between visits. I will miss our conversations and visits, but cherish all my memories.

You were wonderful parents and I always enjoyed your campus visits. You and Paul made a difference in my life and I will continue to keep you in my thoughts and prayers.

Warm regards,

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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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

This morning I read in an obituary that a woman in my community “Left this life peacefully in the arms of her husband, children and grandchildren.” Another obituary stated, “She died peacefully surrounded by her loving family.” 

The deaths described sound almost surreal. Is it realistic for us to want to have this type of death experience with our own loved ones? And if so, are we setting ourselves up for disappointment? How often does someone get to be there when their loved one dies? And what if we are there and the death is anything but peaceful?

I began to wonder about this topic when a good friend shared with me a deep-seated disappointment that she was unable to be present at her mother’s death. She always thought she would be there to hold her hand and say goodbye as her mom passed peacefully away. Instead, her mother died unexpectedly, in a hospital, with no family present. My friend received a phone call announcing her mother’s death and she is having a terribly hard time getting past this.

Today’s obituaries have caused me to wonder, does being present at a death impact the depth of pain or the intensity of mourning? Does it make a difference if you have an opportunity to say that last goodbye?

My friend is not the only one who feels remorse following a loved one’s death. Others have shared with me that they did not have a chance to say goodbye, they did not recall the last time they said, “I love you,” and many had loose ends in their relationships that they thought they would have time to resolve.

What can we learn from these experiences? Be realistic and do not wait for the time of death to open your heart. Say “I love you” often so you will not wonder when you said it last. Don’t wait to mend your relationships; there may never be the right time to do so. Keep in touch frequently and let your friends and loved ones know they matter. Live your life lovingly and with care and you just may have fewer regrets.

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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Photo via photopin (license) What I got to do to make you love me?

A friend had a neighbor whose 17-year old son died in a car accident. It was a life experience you never forget so around the anniversary of the accident, my friend always thinks of him. Her neighbor has moved away and I asked if she gets in touch with her around her son’s anniversary. She replied, "I don't because I don’t want to remind her of her loss." I mentioned that her neighbor thinks of her son every day and it would make her feel better to know that someone else is thinking of him too.

In contrast, in the twelve months after her husband died, a neighbor’s daughter did something thoughtful for her mom every month on the date of her dad's death. One month it was a candy bar on her pillow and another month, a scarf on the front seat of her car. When her daughter was out of town, she asked her husband to place a bouquet of flowers on her mom’s dresser. He willingly did so during his lunch break. Her daughter’s thoughtfulness was a bright spot in a very difficult year.

When someone dies, while we’re touched with sadness, many of us quickly pick up the pieces of our lives and get back to our daily routines. Not so for the families who have lost a loved one. So what can we do to honor and remember the loved ones of our family, friends, colleagues, and neighbors?

We can remember them and acknowledge the loss, whether it’s been two years or a decade. It can be as simple as a note, a card, a text message, or even a phone call around the anniversary of the death, letting them know that you're remembering their loved one and you’re thinking of them too. If you have a sweet memory of the deceased or something special that always reminds you of them, share it. It will bring a smile at a time tinged with sadness.

What if you want to do something more tangible? You can make a donation in their memory to their school, a library, a food bank, community nonprofit, or any organization that you feel is appropriate. Ask that an acknowledgement be made to a family member, or, just make a donation in their name because it feels good to honor their memory.

Your thoughtfulness and memories will not make the day or week more painful to family members; they’re already keenly feeling their loss. But your kindness might warm their heart. It helps to know that while their loved one is gone, their lives mattered, and they have not been forgotten.

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.

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

The words sympathy and empathy are often thought to be interchangeable, and yet they are distinct expressions with different meanings.

In times of death, we often extend sympathy by sharing our sorrow for what’s happened. Sympathy cards are often synonymous with condolence messages. When offering sympathy, we’re expressing concern for another’s feelings. Sympathy cards, condolence notes, phone calls, e-mails, meals, and offers of assistance are all expressions of sympathy.

But you don’t offer empathy, you feel it. Empathy is the act of putting yourself in someone else’s shoes. It’s trying to imagine: “How would I feel if this happened to me?” And it’s the ability to act on those feelings. When being empathetic, we extend our concern by offering compassion so the bereaved feel validated; that someone has a sense of what has happened and how they might be feeling.

I think it’s easier to extend sympathy. We all know to attend the funeral, participate in mourning rituals, send a condolence card, make a donation, and keep in touch. Empathy is harder; it’s taking the time to think carefully while trying to understand how you might feel if this happened to you and what might bring you comfort.

Listening is a good example of empathy and we all know how difficult it is to simply pay close attention to what is being said, without adding our personal feelings or thoughts. It takes patience to hear the same story over and over again, but it is an empathetic and meaningful thing to do.

When I think back to some of the stories that the bereaved have shared, it’s easy to discern the differences. One mother wrote that at her child’s funeral, she sat all by herself with her surviving child; everyone else, including her ex-husband, sat behind her. If someone had taken a seat next to her, that would have been empathetic. A grieving daughter shared that she had to make the arrangements for her father’s funeral and reception by herself. Relatives weren’t happy with her choices and complained to her at a time of painful loss. Empathetic folks would have helped; those that couldn’t help would have accepted what she was capable of doing and extended comfort.

We’ll all experience loss: Would you prefer someone extend you sympathy or empathy?

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.​​