This sinking ship is just a sheer tragedy that maybe could have been prevented, had that stupid captain refrained from getting too close to shore like he did.  And it makes me disgusted that he jumped ship and didn’t think of his passengers first.

At least the captain from Titanic died with more dignity and went down with his ship like most captains did in those days.  They lived by the ship and sacrificed their lives for it.  If the ship was doomed, so were they.

But this italian captain is going to be doomed anyway. He should definitely do some serious time.

And now we have heard that all the passengers are going to get a full refund and also a discount should they ever decide to come aboard again.  Like they really would.  Think about it.  If I had been on that ship, I know for sure that I wouldn’t be hopping on again any time soon.

What an insult it must be for them.  And then of course the dead will never see a refund.  They are gone at the hand of the captain.  He might as well call himself a murderer.  I can’t remember how many are dead now, but they are never coming back.  And now there are families mourning them and wishing that time could bring them back.

And maybe some of the dead will never be found.  And how can one find closure with that?  And all the families have to find closure of some sort to get past it.  It’s just a terrible thing.

Why must this world be filled with terror, death and tragedy?  Now we’ve had a tornado that has killed in Alabama.  More people who will never again see another day.

Accidents, people dying in fires, hitting trees and dying, murders, and many other tragedies.  And yet, amid tragedy and death and grieving, somewhere a child is born and someone has just had the most wonderful day of their lives.  A new living person is born into the world.

But I guess we must have death surround us in order to feel the most extreme emotions.  I should know as the other number one killer was cancer that took my mother away from me.  Cancer is one of the number one murderers and we need to put the death sentence on it.

Jennifer Jo Fay

Copyrighted January 23, 2012

my mother, sorry that she’s sideways.  I forgot to rotate her.  Sorry mom!

The opportunity to congregate like minded people for forum and website groups, gaming communities, writers, and bloggers became rife. However, akin to a double edged sword, the birth of this connectivity also paved the way for the mutious and the derogative to congregate and to slowly begin spreading the influence of their own seeds of dissent and doubt to create what has led to the apex of a trend setting we have come to know as “trolling and grieving” in almost every corner of the Internet just as well.

While this phenomenon can be attributed to how many youth and irresponsible adults gave up, and continue to give up on challenging them selves and others in a positive light, the phenomenon has also been hijacked and adopted by corporation’s as a means to psychologically attack competitors and opposing knowledgeable groups with doubt, poising them selves as either random, or influential anti-speakers to circumvent traffic and/or creditability.

The original phenomenon continued to grow fast. Quite similar and connected to the growing adoption of Internet slang (or “1337 speak”) that rose with the early precursor hackers and scripter’s that aimed to circumvent FBI agents and bots searching for them by intentionally, or slothfully, misspelling and disguising their keystrokes and expressions, it became a kind of trend that gave inspiration to many youth as something to accept. Aspiring to be in likeness, the trend was adopted and today, has mostly been hijacked by traditional trolls whom have become the byproduct of the old youth that continued to vie to follow the original trend, even without knowing it them selves, which also walked hand in hand with self destructive tendancies.

As we cannot force understanding and respect anymore than can we force people into agreement with expressed opinions that lures a troll or a agent, the traditional motto “Do not feed the trolls” becomes an exhausting defense when faced with the said griever aiming to trigger dissent and sway. Only rarely, does a cunning and clever writer misleads a troll or griever to trip over their own momentum. But, often, the ignore policy of starving the said troll is often employed, and at times, the voices of reason can indeed over-shadow attacks of doubt. Once again, quite similar to many movements and trends arising in today’s world, only the influence of reason, truth, and logic can cast a silver lining through shrouds of deceit..

  The day after my divorce. I rolled out of bed and stretched still with the last thought in my head when I went to sleep. Was my life over is this the end for me. I left my home with just about nothing, not even a penny in my pocket and no job. Me and my golden retriever ginger moved into a motor home on my brothers property next to his home in late March and remain there today trying to get back on our feet. Or at least that was what I was thinking. I had to stop thinking about it for a while so I did some surfing on the web to take my mind off things, then went out and mowed my brothers lawn, I was feeling like forrest gump accept I was pushing a mower not riding one and could not help but think about my life with the same woman for over 7 years and how we just had our divorce the day before and our anniversary is just a couple weeks away and what was I going to do now. Then a peace came over me as I pushed that mower and mowed the entire front and back yard and it felt good to get out in the sun. I was able to start thinking more clearly about what I was going to do and how my life was and what would come of things next.

  What would I do next was it the end of me and would I live my life out alone and depressed, will I get over the feelings I have now for my ex-wife and whom was once my best-est friend in the whole world. Was I going to let this get me down and would I get back up and live again. Yes I believe I will get through this and as I helped my brother around the house for the rest of the day starting to feel better about things, I finally came to the conclusion that it is not the end of the world it is not the end of me but better yet it is a new beginning in a new chapter to an on going book of new adventures that is my life. Here I sit writing this article because it is about an ending that with a little mourning and healing will bring a new life for me and I hope that others will see this article and know that there is hope if we choose to do something about it with the way we think. Divorce has a grieving process and we need to deal with that grieving process with positive support and thought our attitude towards life makes all the difference in the recovery from divorce. I am thankful we can remain friends and pick up the phone, email or text each other when we feel the need or just want to say hello. Who knows I may find someone new and start a whole new life with a wonderful lady of my dreams growing old together and if not who knows down the road what will happen, my ex-wife and I may find ourselves once again in a whole new light and new love for each other and find ourselves on that swing on the front porch together hand and hand growing old and watching our lives go by with a happiness and love only soul mates can truly have. It has been known to happen.

  For now I will spend as much time as I can and write articles for those who will read them, strive to do better in life, give a lot of love to my best friend and companion ginger the golden retriever, play the dating game and hold on to my friends and family for with out their support I would not have made it this far. Hang on to your friends and family reach out for them and their support they love you and they are there for you. The day is done the night has come and I once again lay my head down to rest for the night with better thoughts in my head and I know there is light at the end of the tunnel there is hope the day after divorce.

image source: Sandra Tapia

Early this month we went to visit our favorite local Chinese restaurant Kiwi Cafe in San Dimas, California. I was with my husband and two beautiful sons. We’ve been there so many times we have actually acquired some basic Mandarin phrases. Our favorite is “Wǒ ài nǐ” or I love you and  “nǐ hěn piàoliang” or you are pretty. They are very endearing people. They love my boys and always go out of their way to make us as comfortable as possible.  This I do know, they are like family to us. 

This was no special day. We were just having a meal. We were actually enjoying Spring Break as a family, when we couldn’t help but notice our waitress tending to a new customer. The customer seemed a little flustered. I also noticed that the customer looked a little familiar. At that very moment, the waitress began to explain their cooking techniques. She said “This is the way we cook the meat so that the customers do not complain that it is under-cooked.” the customer gathered her thoughts only to reply “Well the food is not fresh…this is not fresh and I don’t know what this meat is!” Just then my whole world stopped. I realized where I’d known this customer from. She was the nurse that was responsible for the loss of our first born son.  This was “Helen”! Just then, my heart had dropped. I looked over at my husband whom at that moment seemed so far away from me. The words I uttered could barely escape my lips. “Helen!” I whispered. I felt as if my blood pressure had hit the roof.

image source: Sandra Tapia

My husband was also tuned into the moment. He glanced over at me to try and make out what I had just said. I felt so paralyzed.  I said once again “Helen!” He took a second look at the woman and said “Noooo” as if he could not believe the moment had come. She continued to complain about the food and the waitress. She went and on and on, yet continued to consume the food. Her bitterness permeated the tiny restaurant.  I could see the effect she had on the waitress.  It’s as if her sole purpose was to make others miserable.

My mind was racing.  I had so many mixed emotions.  I had only imagined this moment since October 28, 2002. What would I do if I came across “Helen”. Many a day-dreamed moments, I’d seen myself giving her a piece of my mind.   I imagined over and over again the things I would say and do. What I would say to “Helen”, was always a question. At this moment it had all been laid out before me, yet I could do nothing. All I could do was pray.  All I could think of was telling her I’d forgiven her and I’d released her from the responsibility. I felt so much pity for “Helen”.

image source: Sandra Tapia

I was pinned by both the table and my husband. When I had explained my intentions to him. He simply said “She won’t care! Just look at how bitter and inflexible she is. By that you should know, that it would not matter one bit to her. ” He was right Helen was a bitter, miserable individual. I think telling her I’d forgiven her would mostly be a release for me. This was a closed chapter in a long journey of grieving. Releasing Helen would mean releasing the bitterness that she brought to our lives. “GOOD BYE HELEN! GOOD RIDDANCE! YOU CAN NO LONGER TAKE AWAY FROM THE JOYS THAT LIFE HAS BROUGHT TO US!” The laughter of our children, a smile from my husband, a “Group Hug”, a tender touch from my baby’s hands these are the moments to live for today. I’m so sorry you live in misery! We watched as she swaggered across the restaurant to the exit.  As the door closed behind her, so did the useless dreams of meeting up with “Helen”.

image source: Sandra Tapia

If you’d like to know more about this topic, feel free to visit my article “Dealing With The Pain Of Losing A Child”  

http://socyberty.com/advice/dealing-with-the-pain-of-losing-a-child/

Burying the memories may perhaps seem impossible. This will not be straightforward to realize all at once, but as time goes on, as soon as we are prepared to agree to the fact that everything is certainly part of life, we will slowly but surely recover from the deepest feeling of emotional difficulty. Realities about 9/11 hurt so many families along the way. This is amongst the most repressive incidents for the reason that those who died from the grim attack had lost their privileges to send their last parting words to their dear ones. But to fight the dreadful reactions that we may possibly feel, there are specific ways to look at so that we can win over the uneasy situation.

What is grief? Grief is characterized by a considerable response to some loses. It can be viewed as the notion of despair once someone or something is taken away from us. It may be linked with the death of the person we care or the loss of something we cherish the most. More so, there are five stages of grief which are, Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression and finally Acceptance.

The initial stage of grief is Denial. In the course of this stage, we may perhaps say to ourselves that this can by no means be happening. We more often than not place a border between the reality and ourselves so we can shield our Self from the compounding stress we will feel in a long run. It can be normal for a couple of days, but the more one gets staggered on this stage would often lead to psychosis.

As we realize that such event has actually occurred, we may be inclined to ask why it has happened. We start to feel the rage and at times, we tend to blame this to people around us. At this stage, we start to freak out and associate the reason for such uncertainty to others. Anger and hatred will be the collective consequences if this is not resolved as soon as possible.

Bargaining is the next stage of the grieving process. We are bound to beg for such event from occurring by giving out our best cards in hope that we can bring back the time before the actual incident takes place.

Depression is the longest stage of the whole process. It usually takes days, sometimes weeks, months or even years before we can admit the reality. We may face physical problems at some point in this period like weight loss or weight gain, sleeplessness and body aches. Depression can lead to schizophrenia if one fails to overcome it as soon as possible.

To sum up, it may well be difficult to accept the loss of our loved ones, but we can always pass through the aforesaid stages with the help of our friends and relatives. Coping just depends on how we look at things either in a positive or negative way. With proper management, we can certainly fight the effects of grief in no time.

This is one of the scariest moments of life – right up there with getting up in front of a room full of people to speak – and somehow our brains shut down, our mouths get as dry as the Sahara Desert, and we suddenly feel like a 2nd grader who has to read the really dumb poem written about the teacher in front of her and the whole class.

So what do you say in a moment like this?  You are faced with a friend who has suffered an unspeakable loss and you think that this requires you to speak.  Even though it’s one of the most difficult times to say anything, we think that the bereaved still want, expect, and need for us to say something comforting, meaningful, and profound.  Nine times out of ten we fail.  Why?  Because humans just don’t know how to talk about death.

Have Never Been There

Mostly that’s because, let’s face it, we have never been there.  None of us has actually died so how would anyone know what it’s like.  Without knowing what it’s like, we don’t have any experience to inform us as we try to speak intelligently to one who has lost a loved one.  But, wait a minute!!  We don’t have to know what it’s like to die – we only have to know what it’s like to suffer a loss.  If you have not suffered the loss of a loved one, then you’ll be at a slight disadvantage, but we all have experienced loss of some kind.

Think about your life and think about what you have lost (we’re not talking about car keys or eyeglasses), things like: 

• A pet
• A job
• A friend who fought with you and won’t speak to you now
• A neighbor who moved away
• A house – from foreclosure or just selling it and moving away
• A community because of moving away
• The ability to work
• The ability to walk
• The ability to drive
• Your car

Of course, there are many other little things but all the big things you have lost can give you some inkling of what your friend feels like when she calls to tell you that her mother has died. 

What Not to Say

Having said all that, the most important thing to know when you’re wondering what you can say about your friend’s loss is actually what not to say in that moment.  Even if you have had exactly the same experience, “I know just how you feel” is at the top of the list of things not to say.  No matter what your experience has been, there is no one who can know what another person is feeling. 

We can have similar feelings and we can share that in a very gentle way but the first thing your friend will think if you tell her you know how she feels is – “Don’t tell me you know how I feel – nobody knows how I feel but me.”  The next on that list of things not to say is “Don’t cry, it’ll be all right.” 

First, crying is one of the most efficient ways of expressing pain, especially from grieving after death.  It not only provides an outlet for some very strong feelings, but it relieves the blood pressure and slows the heart rate back to normal once a person has “cried it out.” 

Second, crying is a way to cleanse the soul of all the bad feelings that pile up inside after losing a loved one, especially from things like unspoken words they wished they had said but now it’s too late or spoken words they wished they hadn’t said and it’s too late to apologize. 

These feelings also come from not having a chance to say goodbye in the case of a sudden death and even from being relieved after a very long death watch.

So, instead of looking at a crying, grieving person and thinking, “She’s not doing so good,” encourage the tears, offer a shoulder, and a tissue, and just be there.

The Ministry of Presence

Instead of wondering, “What can I do?” remember that the most effective and most welcome thing you can give to a friend grieving is your presence.  Whether your friend is a grieving parent, a grieving spouse, a child grieving, or a whole family grieving, the best gift is to do nothing.  There will be others to answer the phone, neighbors to bring in and arrange the food, friends to make the coffee but a best friend’s job is to do nothing. 

Instead of wondering what words to say to comfort the bereaved, just sit and hold hands, or give a back rub, but above all else – listen.  Listen to what is said, to what is not said, and even listen to the silence.  Your friend will remember those moments for a long time as the best grieving support in a terrible moment of loss.

So, in those awful situations when you are at a loss for words, don’t ask what can you say – it is not words that are needed – it is you.

My next encounter with the death of a famous person was when John F. Kennedy died. I was 21 when he was shot and very aware of all of the details that ensued on that day in Dallas. I watched television from morning until night and beyond as the public funeral, the shooting of Lee harvey Oswald by Jack Ruby and all of the wall to wall coverage continued for most of that week in November. I cried when his young son John-John saluted his casket and when taps was played at Arlington as the Eternal Flame was lit beside his grave. As a young adult it had a great impact on me and I felt as if a member of my own family had died.

When Bobby Kennedy was shot I had a personal stake in the proceedings as I worked for his campaign and was supposed to attend the festivities at the Ambassador Hotel that night. Another long, sad week followed as his funeral train made it’s way to Arlington Cemetary for his somber burial.

Elvis Presley’s death was another shock and since he was my idol while in my teens I was probably even more shocked than ever before. How could a young man like my idol Elvis be dead? I was acquainted with one of his body guards, Sonny West at the time and his book had just come out about Elvis abusing drugs. No one believed that Elvis was a junkie until his autposy proved Sonny to be correct in what he wrote about in his book. Seeing the picture of a bloated Elvis lying in his coffin was a shock as I could only picture the extremely handsome and sexy Elvis of my youth and not this awful looking man who bore no resemblence to the Elvis I idolized.

When Princess Diana passed away at such a young age I was sitting in front of my telelvison set watching CNN when it was reported that she had been in a car accident, but was simply injured I instantly knew in my heart that this was not going to be the case. When they annmounced a short while later that she had died I was not surprised. The week long mourning and funeral was almost surreal. I think that the most moving parts of the process for me was when Elton John sang “Candle In The Wind” and when I saw the flowers on her coffin that spelled out the word “Mummy”, from her two young sons.

Since then, many famous and infamous people have passed away, but until June 25th when Michael jackson died suddenly, I had no recollection of where I was when I heard of their passing. I will probably always remember what I was doing on the day that Michael passed. It hit me the same way that the passing of JFK, RFK, Elvis and Princess Diana did. I was not a huge Jackson fan and immediately suspected that he had died from some drug related cause. Sadly, I was right. I was not a fan yet I followed the coverage and the Memorial Service hour after hour.

So, why is it that when these iconic individuals die, we the public, often react in such a dramatic way? Why is it that we feel as if a family member has passed and many of us remember exactly what we were doing when we heard the news? Perhaps it’s because as a society we are always seeking heroes to look up too. Perhaps they fill some kind of empty space within us and become a part of our existence in ways that we don’t understand until they are gone? Except for meeting RFK and having a connection to Elvis through Sonny West, I had never met the others, yet I felt their passing deeply and cried for them as if I had known them personally.

The next question would be, why do we grant them iconic status in the first place? They are after all, human just like the rest of us. They are born and they die just like the rest of us. Perhaps it’s simply because they have accomplished so much more than most of us ever will and we admire them for doing what we will never be able to do. Michael Jackson had talent that few possess, John Kennedy had charisma that was hypnotizing and Diana seemed so vulnerable and delicate and in need of our empathy and protection even though she was privileged and untouchable to most of us. Yet, we mourned her and we remember her just as we mourned and remembered all those I have written about here.

The odd thing is that after our icons die we fill up the hole that they’ve left in our hearts with someone new and the process repeats itself again and again. I suppose that psychologists would have answers for why this deeply felt sadness befalls us and they would explain it far better than I ever could. I just know that it is a phenomenon that occurs and that after all of the crying and disbelief subsides I am left with a feeling of wonderment at how strongly I reacted to the deaths of these famous people.

Perhaps the word “Famous” explains it all? They become part of our consciousness and therefore we feel as if we knew them and that they deserve our heartfelt sympathy. Perhaps we go through the grieving process because they were famous and the feelings we experience are not totally real, but expected?

I have no real understanding of why icons are created by us mortal folks but I know that they will always exist in some form or the other. We need them. I also know that somewhere there is an icon waiting to be discovered and that when that superior human being dies, we will mourn him or her as if they were as close to us as a true family member. The cycle goes on and I don’t see it changing anytime soon.

Dong Yun Yoon, Yong Mi and new baby girl

http://cache.daylife.com/imageserve/0bKzeaMcK1exY/610x.jpg 

John Travolta, Jett Travolta, and Kelly Preston

http://specialreport.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/10/john-travolta-kelly-jett.jpg 

On October 26 2002 I entered San Dimas Hospital in San Dimas California with the intentions of expediting the long awaited delivery of my first child. I had a procedure done to assist in the beginnings of the labor process. I was then sent home to wait it out and see if the procedure would work. Several hours later about 1 a.m., I began to experience a series of what I thought were contractions. My husband jumped out of bed and collected our belongings. We loaded up in the vehicle and rushed to the hospital. It was the most exciting yet nervous moment of our lives.

As we entered the hospital we were greeted by a haggard unwelcoming nurse, who glanced our direction, then grudgingly proceeded into the nurse’s station. We waited in the hallway wondering when she would come back out to receive us. It took a total of twenty minutes before she decided to attend to us. When she finally did she snapped. “What are you doing here?” she asked. I explained my entire experience to her in hopes that she would have some sympathy. Nothing changed, she remained aloof and just as bitter as the first moment we saw her. “You should be at home! You don’t belong here! You should be laboring at home!” She barked. Now seeing that this was our first child we were not sure what the protocol was for hospital deliveries. We were clearly told earlier that day that if my contractions were at a five-minute interval, then we should head out to the hospital, to see how far along we were. We did just that. The nurse continued to admit me simply because I started to snap back. I had also mentioned that my baby was no longer moving. Nothing mattered to this woman, she was simply a burnt out nurse who clearly did not belong there. She ranted about how we did not know anything, and about how many years experience she had under her belt. After she connected the heart monitor and went on her way, I couldn’t help but to feel so ignorant and helpless. I looked over at my husband whose eyes were so sunken in and black from lack of sleep, and felt even more ignorant. I proceeded to tell him that we should just go and maybe I should just labor at home.

Just then we heard my baby’s heart beat stagger on the monitor. What should have sounded like a boka boka boka, now sounded like a bok… a.. bok ………boka… to a complete silence. Then it started up again struggling for life. I hit the nurse’s button dreading her attention, yet needing it desperately. She slowly staggered in and asked me what I wanted.  My husband and I proceeded to tell her what we heard. We both expressed our concern. She insisted that she had everything under control and that there was nothing wrong with the baby’s heartbeat. I asked for my doctor and she claimed that he had just gone home from a previous delivery. I again insisted on seeing him or any doctor on staff she exclaimed “We do not have any doctors on staff right now!” It’s as if she ran the hospital. Desperate to leave her presence I asked to be released. We went home and both decided we were going to tough it out. I couldn’t help but wonder what the heartbeat situation was all about. I had a horrible feeling inside that I tried desperately to ignore.

On October 27, 2002 (my sisters birthday), we returned to the hospital for a second procedure. Exhausted and drained, we just went through the motions. We arrived at 8 a.m. and waited for a nurse to tend to us. Several welcoming faces later, I was hooked up to a monitor, by someone connected to big beautiful green eyes and a gentle smile. I could not tell you her name today. I just remember feeling at peace. “Well I guess this one wasn’t connected.” she commented. She checked the plug and all the connections only to conclude that the machine may have given out. A second monitor was brought in only to conclude that maybe she was not using it correctly. She then called in a head nurse who brought in an ultrasound machine. The head nurse then asked the previous nurse to call my doctor in stat. “He’s already on his way!”( this was due to an expected 2nd procedure)  exclaimed the assistant. A few moments later my doctor arrived greeting me with a gentle voice of excitement. “Good morning Sandra, how are you doing this morning? Are you both excited?” he asked. Stress and fatigue was written all over our faces. “Sure, if that’s what you want to call it.” I joked. He plopped the goop on my belly once again and waved the ultrasound wand over my abdomen. Within a matter of seconds, the look of excitement turned into a look of sheer horror. “Aww….oh…I just saw you two days ago? Everything was fine.” he stressed “Yes.” I replied. He continued to dig the wand across my stomach as if he was trying to find something that was not there. He let out a large sigh of distress and said “I am so sorry, there is no heartbeat.” He turned the monitor around to face both me and my husband and pointed out the pockets of liquid in the baby’s brain cavity. I let out a yell expressing my rage toward the nurse that had attended us the night before. I repeated the incident over and over in my head, and to the staff. I was trying to find my way back to the day before I met the nurse. Hoping that somehow this would go away. I asked God to make it go away. I pleaded with him to wake me from this horrible dream. At that moment everything I had known before then was completely erased. Nothing in life had ever induced pain such as this. The horrible emptiness that filled me was unbearable.

After twenty-four hours of labor, and no sign of changes in my situation, my son was ripped out of me. Childbirth is a normal process that both child and mother assist in.  In my case, the baby was not able to do his part in birthing. He had died of an apparent weak cord, that was completely wound like a rope. October 28, 2002 he was born still. Isaiah Lee Tapia came into the world without a breath of life inside of him. They laid his lifeless little body across me and silence hit the room. I stared deeply into his features, soaking in every single intricate memory I could obtain. Every single digit was in place. His body was so full of health, it was as if he was simply sleeping. I’d never imagined I could have something so beautiful in my life, only to be taken away. I held him as long as I could. I was so doped up on morphine that this tiny little being felt like lead in my arms. The desperation inside of me to keep him beside me was overwhelming. Yet, I could no longer hang on. I looked to my husband who stood there tragically wounded, and asked him to take him from my arms. He did it with such tenderness, as if he was so afraid to hurt the baby. He took him and placed him in the infant bed. Isaiah remained in the room until I was able to let him go.

We had so much support from friends and family at the hospital, yet I could not help but feel so alone. My husband whom I’d known for over thirteen years was so distant. I did not recognize him. I could see the desperation in his face. I knew that outwardly, he held himself up as much as he could, yet inside it was tearing him up. I could actually feel every bit of pain that he was encountering. He was my focus. I knew that if I thought of anything else I would snap. This gentle, genuine and loving man was broken. I had encountered so much tragedy in my childhood, I knew this all too familiar feeling of agony that just ached inside my core. This was pain that this man should never have endured. This much I did understand, nothing was ever this unbearable. I had died this day, yet I had to keep on breathing. I had to hang on to any piece of reality I could embrace. I hung on to be there for my husband.

That night I begged him to stay with me in the hospital, but he couldn’t. I had a strong sense that he needed some private grieving time. I also had a fear that he may have wanted to do something drastic. I was immune to the morphine they were pumping in me. I would sleep for fifteen minutes straight, only to be awakened by a nightmare. I woke up screaming several times at night, and no one was there to assist me. At one point I scrambled to find the phone and dialed my home number in the dark. I had dreamt that my husband had passed away in an accident. I had startled him out of his sleep, but I had to make sure he was okay. I had to hear his voice.

I was transferred to a different wing in the hospital, away from the new mothers. There was a guard placed at my door. It made me feel like a criminal. The hospital had some serious fears. The nurses came and went and one week later I was ready to be released. I was allergic to the catheter, so that was the closest I had come to taking something home. I had developed some kind of condition called bladder shock. My bladder would fill and I was unable to feel anything.  It took five and a half weeks to get it working on its own. Six years later and it’s still not up to par. It took eight months for my breast milk to dry up. Every time I heard a baby cry it stimulated my milk to come in. My thyroid went south and I was diagnosed with a bad case of postpartum depression.  I was a mess.

We were now left with the responsibility of burying our son. According to the life insurance policy we had invested in, my son was not covered. Since he did not live outside of the womb they would not cover his death. We had to finance his burial ourselves. With the help of my in-laws and several friends and family, Isaiah had a proper burial. It had taken us three months to finance his gravestone.

The day of the funeral was beautiful. He was buried November 4, 2002. It was my sister-n-laws birthday.  I remember just wanting to stay in bed. I didn’t want to go. I was given some tranquilizers to numb my pain, but it was still there. This just caused me to be more relaxed and produce more milk. I was so bloated from all the meds they had pumped into me I couldn’t make sense of my features. I had bullfrog eyes from all the crying I had been doing.  I was leaking breastmilk through my clothes constantly.  I had to change twice before I left the house. The wretched catheter was still attached to my leg. It made it difficult to walk.  If I had any dignity at all, it was completely wiped away by this experience. I just remember having the need to throw myself into the hole they dug up in the ground.  I wanted them to bury me alive with my son.  I just wanted to curl up in there and embrace my sons body from that day to eternity. Death had entered my soul.    

The fears of losing my husband became more haunting. At one point he told me he wanted to die. He imagined himself just driving into a freeway center divider! He worked in the UPS warehouse. His hours fluctuated by season.  This was one of the busiest seasons of the year.  I normally expected him by 12 a.m..  He was now coming home between 1-2 a.m.. I remember I couldn’t sleep on these nights. I waited by the phone for fear of receiving a call from the police.  I asked God to not take him away from me.  He was all I was living for. 

Months went by and so did holidays.  We were being pressured to attend family functions and celebrations.  We were not allowed to grieve alone.  What would of been our sons first Christmas, New Years etc. was now an uncomfortably bitter thought. People were offering advice, like ”You need to get over this.” and ”Well you can always try again.” or the current “ You have two your living for, this should help you forget him.” Unintentionally causing more pain than necessary.  It was becoming apparent who our true friends were. My husbands childhood friend whom he had known as a brother, and was apart of the family since birth was now behaving odd.  When my husband sought him out, he had become withdrawn. I think John Travolta expressed this very well on his official web site at http://www.travolta.com/ ”We have always believed that a persons true character reveals itself in the most difficult situations.”  This was so true.  The people we thought would help us through this were the least to hand us support.  It’s as if our grief had become an inconvenience to them.  Only one longtime friend was there.  He was there in the hospital from beginning to end. There were moments when my husband blanked out and could no longer manage important tasks.  He was there to recover what my husband couldn’t do. Out of all the childhood friends my husband had, only one came through. 

The healing process is unique, in that the pain will never go away, it just evolves.  The truth is it’s as fresh as the day it happened. When I hear someone call out his name I quickly look to see if there are any similarities to my son. I imagine what it would have been like, if that were me calling his name.  We struggled to connect with our son somehow.  People claiming to be psychic offered up ridiculous advice. The best advice came from some Christian friends we had met.   We’ve become closer to God, because of this. The bible has been our best healing resource. It helped us understand that this could happen to anyone.  We are not invincible.  We did go through an anger process though, it was hard to go to church without crying. It became apparent that seeking God helped the process along.  I grew up Christian, but never sought out a relationship with God until now.  I truly believe that this relationship has made me a better mother, wife, sister and friend.  

It is important to know that it doesn’t matter what age your child is when they pass away, the loss of a child is never to be measured.  A wonderful friend put it plainly “It is the hopes and dreams of this baby that are gone.” we can never get them back. The best support we received came from those that were just there.  The people that listened and tried to understand, were the ones that were the most genuine.

We have two beautiful baby boys.  Each one looks so much like him.  It’s as if God was trying to help me see what it would have been like with Isaiah. When they are sleeping it takes me back to that day in the hospital again. They keep us busy. We have been challenged with some very unique and vibrant little characters! There is never a moment in the day that we forget how blessed we truly are. 

Photo taken by fellow Trionder and husband Danny Tapia

We are different people because of this. They often tell us that tragedies such as these make or break a relationship.  My husband is my high school sweetheart. He used to be much more social, he’s become a lot more reserved.  I often introduce us as Sandra and Danny from the movie Grease.  Ours is a love story much like theirs. Our marriage has taken some serious hits by this trauma, but it has only brought us closer together.  It saddens us to see couples break apart by something like this, but we can understand the complexity behind it. No one person is alike, let alone two. We are going twenty years strong now. This episode has appeared to strengthen us.  We can only hope to share many more together. 

Through our grieving process we’ve learned to cope with this in many ways.  First off, we have learned that what has happened cannot be changed. Secondly, we’ve come to terms with the fact that we are still alive and must continue to live. Third, we live each day as if it’s the last day on earth. We express our love for each other and for everyone around us. We embrace the fact that we have three beautiful sons.  We don’t pretend that he didn’t exist.  My oldest boy is very familiar with his older brother. My youngest is slowly getting to know this also.  We just recently put Isaiahs hospital belongings and pictures away.  Occasionaly, we go back to them just for the sake of remembering important details, but not to bask in the grief.  We can now hold and look at his things without falling apart. This is not to say that we are unaffected.  The pain wells up inside here and then, when something stirs our sensitivity.  It could be the loss of someone or just simply hearing when someone else is going through this. Dong Yun Yoon and John Travolta did just that. Our hearts go out to you both. 

We all deal with death differently, each in our own way, in ways we see fit and ways we see that work for us. Losing is always a painful thing, be it losing in a game, a fight, losing material possessions, and all the more- losing a loved on dear to us.

A friend of mine a few years back when I was in high school lost her mother. I could see how it was tough for her family. Her brothers weren’t so transparent on the pain they felt, the youngest sibling seemed to be oblivious, not understanding fully what is happening, the father with eyes full of love and lose, and my friend, who seemed to have lost a part of her heart.

My friend and her mother were quite close and their relationship was intimate. More than the usual mother-daughter relationship, they were each others friend.

In dealing with the situation like this, your friend losing a loved one, you need to be more there for her than ever. Here are a few things that you might want to do to help your friend and her family with the grief.

SHOW YOUR SYMPATHY – Tell her that you are sorry for the loss that she and her family are going through and let her know that you understand it is painful and not easy. Let her know that even if you do not fully understand (because you haven’t loss a mother), you still know that it is dreadful and really excruciating.

HELP OUT – As the family is busy mourning, they will not be able to fully attend to those who visit their mother’s wake. You can help out by attending to the guests, giving the family less to handle even just by a bit. You can volunteer to serve snacks, offer drinks to guests, and show them in. Fill in the “duties” of the grieving family as they still do not feel well enough to attend to their “duties”.

GREIVING PERIOD – Allow your friend to be able to cry out the pain, grieve freely and completely. Don’t be one of those insensitive friends who advise people to just “get over it”. More than before, your friend will need you to understand. Give her time and space to grieve while at the same time being there for her.

REMENISCE – Allow her to recall and share her cherished memories with her loved one whom she just loss. Listen in and let her know you are listening. When death comes and we lose people so dear to us, we fear that someday we might fail to remember them. Having them talk about the memories she had with her mother, will be like being able to imprint those memories. Keep your own stories at a minimum and be able to listen intently.

AVOID ISOLATION – As a friend, you should not let them grieve alone when you can be there for them. They will already have enough grieving alone to deal with at night before they go to bed. Allowing them to grieve alone more often than they should, might only lead them on a downward spiral and plunge them into deep depression. Keeping in good contact with your friend with daily visits or calls, asking them how they are, and just keeping them company- these will keep them from slipping out of reality. You should not be an intrusive friend, but more importantly, don’t be a passive one either. Make yourself available when they need you, if they want to talk, go out, or just hang.

EASE THE DAILY LOAD – As a friend, you can also offer other ways of helping aside from the emotional support. A simple preparing the meal, helping her run errands, shopping, doing little household duties will help. In going through a loss, there is a tendency that one will forget his or her duties and will also forget to take care of him or herself.

HEALING PROCESS – Once every one has left, the wake is over, the body is buried- there is a sudden let down feeling. Be there for your friend when everyone else has gone. When the wake and funeral is over, most of the times, there comes a feeling of being slapped back to reality- that you have lost your loved one. Do not agree with your friend facing emptiness alone. As he or she slowly heals, be there to assist him or her through the process to keep her from slipping back and sulking again.

And finally, when all this is over and they are able to live there life (somehow) like before, be the same friend you were to them before the loss, the grief, and sorrow. Do not hold back sharing laughter and fun with your friend, it might in fact help them have things fall back to their old places. Do not also pressure them into getting things back the way they were used to, but instead offer opportunities which she can take when ready.

Based on the data gathered, the following findings are hereby presented: The observed behavior of grieving teenagers 40 days after their parents died shows that under emotional behavior they are undergoing depression and frustration (70%), excessive crying (20%) and tendency to commit suicide (10%). Majority of the respondents experience depression and frustration.The observed behavior of grieving teenagers 40 days after their parents died shows that under mental behavior shows violent behavior ( 30%) Trauma/Shock state (40%) and refuse to entertain people ( 30%). The observed behavior of grieving teenagers 40 days after their parents died shows that under physical appearance shows that they show shaggy appearance ( 10%), develop big eyebags (60%), excessive weight loss ( 20%), and more mature appearance( 10%). Majority of the respondents develop big eyebags due to excessive crying. The problems observed among grieving teenagers 40 days after their parents died, shows effect on their school performance (10%), emotional changes (40%), physical changes (20%), spiritual changes (10%) and eating problems (20%).

Based from the findings, the following conclusion was raise, that the participants are aware that several changes in their emotional, spiritual and physical appearance after the death of their parents, these changes is normal especially when you lost love ones. But these will become worse, if the participants allow these factors affect them most, they would probably experience other changes and deep frustration and shock.

Based on the findings and conclusions, the researchers recommend the following:That relatives should consul the bereaved teenagers and allow them to entertain their visitors to reduce lonesome moments resulting to deep frustration.