loss of a child

New Group: Pregnancy and Infant Loss Support Group

September 12, 2018 by Lara Leave a Comment

The Christi Center is proud to introduce a new group, the Pregnancy and Infant Loss Support Group. Grieving the death of a baby, at any age of gestation or early months of life, can be devastating and isolating for many parents; especially when others may not have had the opportunity to see or have a relationship with the baby, the magnitude of losing a family member can be unintentionally minimized. In light of these and many special considerations, this group offers a safe and supportive space for any adult coping with this unique type of loss.

Lead by a trained peer facilitator, the group meets every first and third Tuesday of the month, 6:30 – 8:30 PM. This group is free and ongoing, to provide you support as long as you need it.

Please call us at 512-467-2600 for information prior to coming.

Filed Under: Blog, loss of a child

Heart Connections: A Family That Gives Hope

February 19, 2018 by Shannon Cunningham Leave a Comment

In 2015, Dolores and Horacio Segovia lost their 23-year old son Homero when he was driving to work and a driver under the influence of drugs crossed the center lane and hit his car. Homero died at the scene. The Segovias became members of a specific type of grieving family – those that have lost a loved one to a crime. After receiving The Christi Center’s information from the Department of Public Safety, they reached out for support. Without the other knowing, they both called on the same day. Horacio recalled feeling “an instant connection” with the person he spoke to on the phone, and he and Delores decided to attend a meeting together.

The Segovias attend Monday night Loss of a Child Group as well as the Crime Victims group on Tuesdays. Dolores said the Crime Victims Group is an important part of her support network because “Someone took my son and it’s a different type of loss”. The people in this group understand exactly what I’m going through.” She feels supported by her fellow group members because she can talk freely about the person responsible for her son’s death and also talk about her feeling dealing with the justice system, which is an experience unique to the members of this group. She also mentioned the judgement-free feeling of the group as sometimes “She needs to talk about something she’s already talked about and that’s always OK.”

The Christi Center supported the Segovias by connecting them with other families that had similar losses, preparing them for what would happen at the trial, inviting them to attend a similar trial and supporting them through a plea agreement process. Cathy Collins, Christi Center intake specialist and Crime Victims Advocate, was there for them every step of the way.

The Christi Center has helped by “giving me hope – these people are my family and support me in a way that no one else can.” Delores says “This is not a place I signed up for, but it’s a blessing this place exists.”

As they continue to heal from their loss, the Segovias have started to give back, in ways big and small. They first supplied all the mean (and the most popular dessert!) for a recent Crime Victims’ potluck. They spoke on a panel abut crime victims’ experiences for the Travis County Sheriff’s Office. They are also native Spanish speakers and have helped several families in the group with translation. Horacio recalls one family that he helped. “They didn’t feel like they could ever come out of the dark, but after three meetings they told me they were starting to see light.” They look forward to continuing to help with outreach to Spanish speakers, which is a growing need in our community. Families like the Segovias and this spirit of peer support are exactly what will help The Christi Center realize our vision where no one has to grieve alone.

Filed Under: Blog, Heart Connections, loss of a child

Heart Connections: You May Live with Sorrow, But You Don’t Have to Live Sorrowfully

October 18, 2017 by Cara 1 Comment

From left to right – Susan Cox, Alice Jasso, Benny Jasso, Sr., and Don Cox

By Benny Jasso, Sr. – as told to Terri Schexnayder

The Charreada (Mexican rodeo) was an event for our whole family. My sons, Benny Jr. and Dennis, whom I began to train when they were young, would participate in the rodeo’s nine events. My wife Alice cooked and raised funds for many events. I loved sharing those times with my family and my sons. On August 26, 1988, life changed for all of us. Dennis was in an automobile crash, and he remained in a coma for five weeks before he died.

Someone told us about The Christi Center (then called For the Love of Christi) and I went there primarily to take Alice, who suffered tremendously after our son’s death. I sat in the background at the meetings, and couldn’t imagine how people could talk about something so painful. For close to six months, I spent most of my time just listening to others in the group. In my culture, men don’t cry or hug (with Susan and Don, however, you get over not hugging real quick).

Finally, I wanted the chance to talk about my son, and began to open up with those closest to me. I wanted to remember the happy times with Dennis, even though we once had our issues because we were so alike. His death definitely challenged my faith and I was mad at God. At The Christi Center, I learned that people cope with grief in their own way—differently from how I might. When I think of those days now, I realize I was focused on taking care of Alice and my job. I did not have time to grieve—it wasn’t only my culture, but other things in my life.

Miraculously, less than a month after Dennis died, we got a call which again changed our life. The mother of Dennis’ child, whom he had lost touch with, heard about Dennis’ death. She was having complications with the birth and wanted Alice and I to be there for the arrival of our granddaughter. We even got to name her—Denise is now in her 20’s and so much like her dad. Her birth really turned things around. I was mad at God for taking away my son, but here was a blessing from Him with my granddaughter. Life as Denise’s “Momo” and ”Popo” was worth living again.

Alice used to say The Christi Center saved her life and it certainly impacted mine because it helped her so much. Don and Susan and all the group facilitators make it easier to understand grief and how to act around those who have also lost loved ones. Alice and I volunteered for many years—in the early years, we helped load up the office to move into new offices at Westlake Plaza. We supported the garage sales and brought my famous BBQ chicken and other food. Alice handled the beautiful decorations at the annual Candelight Remembrance Service at St. Edward’s each December. And I would make sure the organization’s copier was always running smoothly!

Now, I visit the cemetery to see Alice and my son. Benny Jr., and I still go to the annual Remembrance Service each year. One day, after Alice passed away on November 26, 2006, I was in one of my down moments. I was walking out my door and I looked up and saw this sticker I had never seen before. It read, “You may live with sorrow, but you don’t have to live sorrowfully.” I know she was there with me.

Filed Under: Blog, grieving, Heart Connections, loss of a child, Loss of a Spouse or Partner, Testimonials

Speaking Grief

April 27, 2015 by Lara 1 Comment

Speaking Grief: How to respond when someone in your life loses someone they love

by Shana Rubenstein

I have had the privilege of being a social work intern at the Christi Center since September. In this role, I have had learned from individuals of all ages grieving the death of loved ones. After a few months of assisting with adult and teen meetings, I began to notice a common theme among the groups, from individuals who were grieving the loss of a sibling or friend, to those who had lost their parent or child. Between all of the groups, it seemed that many people shared the experience of hearing unintentionally hurtful or thoughtless comments from others in their community – friends, coworkers, and family who responded, often in the best manner they knew how, in ways that minimized, disrespected, or even worsened their pain.

Another shared experience was secondary loss, those who reported good friends or family who seemed to disappear in the midst of their grief – perhaps from fear of saying the wrong thing or difficulty in understanding the longevity of grief. Many people may avoid those in grief because they do not want to be reminded of the presence of death in all of our lives. What these experiences have in common is that people who are already in emotional pain are further hurt because our culture does not teach us how to respond to others in times of grief.

Thinking all of this over, I decided to collect the thoughts of people experiencing grief about what they wish others knew, what they would like others to say, and what they would be grateful to never hear again. This information will be available in an image and video form, to be easily shared with friends and family, but I can also share with you some of the responses I received.

In terms of what people in grief want those in their community to know, the number one response was that it is OK, and hoped for, that people will bring up the person who died. While many people may fear this will make the person in grief feel sadder or cry, people of all ages reported that they are already sad, and talking about their loved one let’s them know that they are not forgotten. It’s OK if they cry, their grief is making them sad, and you are giving them a space to remember. People who are in grief also want you to know that grief does not end, and that it is not something that can be gotten over. It changes with time, and can be lived with, but as one mother shared, “Grief doesn’t stop, it changes but never ends.” Losing someone central to your life changes you in different ways, and people in grief wish that others would spend time getting to know the “new me” instead of waiting for the old me to return.

There are a number of comments that people hear repeatedly that feel hurtful and insensitive: “You need to move on.” “I understand exactly how you feel.” “They are in a better place.” While these may sound to the person speaking like comforting words, in fact they make the person who is grieving feel as if others do not understand their very real pain. Two responses had mixed results – some people preferred the phrase “I’m sorry for your loss,” while others felt that it put them in an awkward position of saying “Thank you” or “It’s OK.” Teens in particular often do not want to hear that others are sorry. Additionally, the question “How are you?” is a hard one after the death of a loved one. As one mom who lost her daughter shared; “‘How are you?’ is hard because usually they don’t want the real answer… terrible or crappy. I prefer to be asked, ‘How are you feeling today?’ It’s better when they’re open to hearing the real answer. If not, just don’t ask.”

Unfortunately, something I think very few of us realize is that there is nothing that can be said that solves grief. The best we can hope for it to respond in a way that shows our respect, love, and ongoing support. When asked what they wish people would say or do, responses included

“I am here to support you.” – Anon.

“Tell me about your daughter.” – Susan and Ron B.

“I miss your son too.” – Melanie H.

“Can we get together to take a walk or share a meal? I needed to talk to people who could just listen. They didn’t need to have any answers or profound insights.” – Mary G.

“‘I don’t know what to say.’ Then I could tell them that it’s OK. Just being silent and sitting with me is very helpful. Just saying ‘I’m here for you’ and ‘I love you’ is all I really need to hear.” – Frankie H.

When we are in the position of responding to someone in grief, the focus often zeroes in on ourselves – how to say or do the right thing. Instead, we can consider how to demonstrate our support, whether that’s sitting together, bringing food or taking care of errands, remembering loved one on birthdays, holidays, or anniversaries, and knowing that grief doesn’t end and that people often like to share about those they love, whether it’s one month or ten years later.

At the Christi Center, we have a metaphor: People in grief frequently feel like zebras in a pack of horses – they are different, changed from those around them, but the horses either don’t see their stripes or don’t know how to interact. Zebras need to spend time together, to be in a space of mutual understanding and unconditional support, and that is why places like the Christi Center exist. However, the sense of isolation and compounded pain can be lessened if all the horses can see, and respond with care, to those among us who are walking through the forest of grief.

Other resources that may be helpful to you, your family, or your neighborhood schools:

Speaking from personal experience, the authors share ways to support others and get support for yourself when someone close to you is dealing with trauma (in this case, a cancer diagnosis), by giving comfort – and not advice – to those directly affected, and seeking your own support for complaints or difficulties elsewhere: http://articles.latimes.com/2013/apr/07/opinion/la-oe-0407-silk-ring-theory-20130407

The Coalition to Support Grieving Students (http://grievingstudents.scholastic.com/peer-support/) offers great suggestions of how to respond to youth who are grieving, including some specific advice about what not to say and why: http://grievingstudents.scholastic.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/12/NYL-1B-What-to-Say.pdf

Judi’s House, a grief support center in Colorado, offers suggestions for supporting children and teens who have lost a loved one to suicide: http://www.judishouse.org/index.php?s=11560&item=5388

The Dougy Center, a national center for grieving children and families, has a wealth of resources, and specifically shares here how to support grieving teens: http://www.dougy.org/grief-resources/how-to-help-a-grieving-teen/

New York Life offers some personal stories and practical suggestions for helping youth and families after the death of a loved one: http://www.newyorklife.com/newyorklife.com/General/FileLink/Static%20Files/NYLF%20KIDS%20Brochure%20FINAL%

What’s Your Grief offers grief support and information in a modern, relatable way: http://www.whatsyourgrief.com/

Many thanks to all who contributed their thoughts and ideas to this project!

Rachel R, Olivia A, Susan and Ron B, Steve N, Arron C, Ed T, Melanie H, Doon R, Mary G, Frankie H, many other individuals who contributed anonymously, Kids Who Kare participants, Small Middle School participants, and the interns and staff at the Christi Center who helped to collect surveys!

Filed Under: Blog, grieving, loss, loss of a child, Loss of a Friend, loss of a loved one to suicide, loss of a parent, loss of a sibling, Loss of a Spouse or Partner, mourn, mourning, sadness Tagged With: #speakinggrief, what to say

Angels Among Us

December 18, 2014 by Lara 1 Comment

by Katherine von Alt

Katherine von Alt serves on the Board of The Christi Center, and was invited to speak at the Christi Center’s 27th Annual Remembrance Service. Here is a transcript of the message she shared with us:

Good afternoon. I’m grateful for this opportunity to be with all of you today. This is my 6th Remembrance service and while each one is different, the repeated tradition of dedicating this special time during the holidays to honor those we miss most always feels so comforting. For those of you who are here for your first service, I know how deeply emotional this event can be, so please allow me to extend out an extra-large Angel-wing hug to each of you.

The theme of this year’s program is Angels Among Us.…. For lack of a better word, I have been asked to talk about the more “spiritual” aspects of angels. First, I want to make clear that I hold no particular expertise on this subject other than a huge interest, which is also personal, so please bear with me for any tears I may shed.

So I will start first with some brief history about angels.

The word “angel” originates from the Greek word angelos which is a translation of the Hebrew word mal’akh, meaning “messenger”, or “messenger of God”; an intermediary between Heaven and Earth. Angels have been described as “beings of light”, “God’s entourage” and it has been said they are beings of energy existing in the vibration beyond human perception.

The origin of angels in history has existed for as long as humans have recorded their experiences, found within most almost all religions, across cultures and around the globe. Throughout the ages they have stirred our imaginations, representing a connection with the mysterious. They have inspired some of our greatest works of art; paintings, sculpture, poetry and music. They are included in writings throughout the ages. Although they may be called by different names, all have similar functions as helpful spirit messengers to protect and guide us with Love.

Along with my literary research of Angels and my own personal experiences, for this talk I also asked friends and co-workers if they ever had any encounters with angels. …Not your typical office “water-cooler” conversation! I received many interesting stories.

Garrett, Kate and Duncan

First my own: This picture was taken while my sons twin sons Garrett, Duncan and I were walking down a busy street in Time Square NY. I remember being in a rush and walking briskly to our next destination. For some reason a woman walking in the opposite direction for no particular reason stopped us to ask if we wanted our picture taken. I remember almost saying no, but so seldom did I get a picture of the three of us I reluctantly agreed. While the lady stepped away and was framing our shot I turned to Garrett and whispered “I hope she’s not going to steal our camera”…to which he replied back, “Oh Mom, she’s probably just an angel sent down to do some kind deeds today.” She took this picture, we thanked her and we continued on our way. I never gave much thought to that event again until a few months later after Garrett was killed in a head-on collision, and that picture became the last photo ever to be taken of the three of us together. Was that lady an angel as Garrett suggested? Or were we just lucky that a total stranger would appear out of a crowd and take such a meaningful picture – either way, she’s an angel to me.

When doing my angel poll I had many stories shared about children and angels. Many remember seeing the “angel” of a loved one after they passed. Angels seem to hold an extra close connection with children. It’s common for children to matter-of-factly report seeing guardian angels and to distinguish such real encounters from their make-believe world, while still expressing a sense of wonder about their experiences. Some religions explain this angelic connection to youngsters by saying that “Children are fresh from God and therefore still hold the eye sight enabling them to see the miraculous with ease.”

My niece Kaley was six when her three year old brother Andy died suddenly in 1970 from an infection. After Andy’s death, Kaley would tell my sister that he was waking her up at night by playing little piggy’s on her toes, a game they shared when he was alive. This piggy game lessened as the years went on, but when I told my niece I was doing this talk she said to me “you know I only had Andy alive in my life for three years and it’s been over 40 years since he died, but I sometimes still awaken to that feeling on my toes. Whenever I feel it, I always think about how much I still love my brother because I think that what he’s still telling me.”

Another topic my angel poll offered were angelic encounters during near a death experience. My boss who suffered a severe stroke when she was 22 and almost died, told me of being greeted by her uncle whom she had never met because he had passed during the Vietnam war. He lovingly told her it was not her time yet to come with him. I also had many people talked about amazing angel encounters during dreams, perhaps because our minds become more receptive to receiving “messages” when dreaming?

Because I’m a scientist by trade, what statistical unbiased angel poll would be complete without asking an atheist? My coworker Mandy is a wonderful person and happens to also be an atheist. We have shared many lively discussions about religion/spirituality, so she was perhaps not too surprised when I asked her if she or anyone she knew had ever had an “angel experience”. Her first reaction was to say “no, can’t say that I have” — a reply I sort of expected. A few minutes later she turned to me and said, “you know, I might have a story that could perhaps be called an angel experience”. She proceeded to tell me about how her grandfather while sitting in his favorite chair, would throw his beloved dog Max a ball. Max would run, chasing it and retuning it back to him (again & again). Nothing odd here, right? The odd part started happening after Mandy’s grandfather died and Max, for no apparent reason, would jump up and start chasing an imaginary ball and bring it back to the chair – repeatedly just like when her grandpa was alive. Was that an angelic encounter? Even Mandy thought it might be. I’ll leave that up to each of you.

Whatever you feel angels are, are not, or may be, we can all agree that the whole topic opens up the door to the mysterious, for you certainly cannot think about or believe in angels without acknowledging mystery.

Earlier I said that angels are thought of as helpful spirit messengers to protect and guide us with Love. I noticed that one theme penetrating all that I have read and heard about angels was that, with each, there was a connection to love. To realize that despite everything, we are loved and that even after death, love never ends; I believe above all else this is what the angels are telling us.

May each of us be blessed to feel that angel love throughout the holidays, this coming New Year and in all your given days ahead… Thank you.

Filed Under: Blog, loss of a child Tagged With: angels, Remembrance Service

It Takes a Village #8 – The Boyfriend

August 13, 2014 by Lara 1 Comment

By Marianne McDonald

It takes a village to survive loss of a child. Unfortunately, I know. Dylan, my son, my only child, the light of my life, died in a car accident at the gate of his apartment complex on May 22, 2006. Dylan is forever 19 years old. My life became two parts – before May 22, 2006, and after May 22, 2006. I can’t even think about the actual day. I also can’t believe that it has been eight years since I saw Dylan, and this is Village #8. Village #10 will be the end of the villages.

Dylan

This year, Dylan Day was scuba diving in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico, with my boyfriend, Hal. I was lucky to meet Hal when we were both walking our dogs in our neighborhood. Hal is the sweetest, kindest man – the only man that has been nicer to me was my Dad. Hal would do anything for me, and I feel lucky that our paths crossed in our neighborhood.

I had to begin practicing for scuba diving about a month before the trip. I did not think I would survive the certification. To begin with, I had to be able to swim 200 yards – two fricking football fields – before I could even qualify for the scuba diving lessons. And I had to tread water for 10 minutes! I don’t like to swim! I signed up for a free week at Gold’s Gym and was swimming at 6:00 am. That’s when the real swimmers swim! They were swimming laps and I was doing the backstroke. I had to buy a combination lock to lock my wallet, driver’s license, and food (in case I got low blood sugar), and then I had to write down the combination (because I couldn’t remember it) and bring my reading glasses to the pool so I read the combination to get my stuff out of the locker when I was finished swimming. It is hell getting old!

That was just the beginning. I hated the first day of scuba diving. I couldn’t stand taking the mask off underwater. I couldn’t stand having to share my regulator. I couldn’t follow compass directions on land – much less in the water. I barely passed the written test and I had a private lesson before I could pass the real dive at the quarry. Hell – I forgot about the first thing that happened. I put the scuba suit on backwards at the shop and could hardly get out of it. If it wasn’t for Robie and Hal, the Dylan Day dive would have never taken place. Hal and I did dive in Puerto Vallarta on Dylan Day and I have pictures to prove it. I wasn’t in love with it but I did it. Hal and I even went back to Puerto Vallarta again in September and I dove again. I wasn’t as scared as I was the first time.

The week end after Dylan Day, I went to a Christi Center Mother’s Retreat at Charlie’s Place. On the way home I listened to the George Anderson CD from Dylan Day May 22, 2013. I hadn’t realized until then that scuba diving was mentioned on May 22, 2013. Guess Dylan wants me to continue to dive!

Dylan’s stepping stone at The Christi Center

I took Hal to the cousin’s reunion in Homer. This reunion was a party for my cousin Brooke and her new husband Doug. We saw many cousins, aunts, and uncles. I took a lot of what I call “family heirlooms” to give to my cousins. Hal said the cousins didn’t think they were heirlooms! Anyway, at least I’ve passed them on since my family chain, Dylan, is not around to accept them. Wait till the cousins see what I’m bringing them this year!

Hal and I went to Las Vegas in August. The highlight of the trip was something that we didn’t even plan. We saw Celine Dion. I’ve never been a big Celine Dion fan, but I am now. I cried three days in a row and I’m not even a crier. First I cried in the hotel listening to the song “A New Day has Come.” Celine was so excited when she had her first son. I was sure she was going to sing that song – that’s why I already cried and thought I was prepared. Instead she sang the song “Goodnight My Angel,” which Billy Joel wrote when his daughter Alexis was born. The entire time Celine was singing that song, pictures of her three sons were showing on the screen. I didn’t cry – I sobbed – the entire song. Then the next day I sobbed reading the program where she talked about her sons.

I took a trip to the coast with eight Christi Moms. We laughed and we cried and we laughed and we cried. I got to ride in Nancy’s convertible! No one will believe us and our cameras couldn’t capture it, but we saw a rainbow making a complete circle around the sun! We are not crazy and we were not drunk. It happened!

Some of Marianne’s Christi Center friends

Dewey and Dutchess are still with me. Dewey had pancreatitis in September and I thought he was going to die. Dewey was hospitalized and couldn’t eat or drink anything for several days. When I brought him home, he still wouldn’t eat. Dutchess had to lead him to eat, and even then he wouldn’t eat much. When he finally got better, I asked Dr. Ory if Dewey had 10 more years – and she said how about four? Right now I can’t be without my Dewey. Dewey is the last piece of my little family with Dylan. I got Dewey one month before Dylan died, and Dylan has been my heart. A lot of moms have other kids or grandkids – but I have Dewey. I’ll take four more good years with Dewey.

David invited us back to Blue Mountain Beach, Florida. Cousins Bonnie, Lynn, and Peggy came again. David was an excellent host and we had a great time again. I met a new friend, Tonya. Tonya’s husband Tracy died three months before, so Tonya and I talked a lot about grief and became friends. I told her all about the Christi Center.

Hal and I went to Tiger Stadium to see LSU beat those Aggies. We met my brother David, and cousins Bonnie, Brooke, and Doug in Baton Rouge. We had great food at Eddie and Di Harmon’s condo and David’s tailgate party before the game. I think the game might have set a record for being the coldest one ever in Tiger Stadium. Hal and I also went to New Orleans in December and had a great time. We got to spend a day with my college roommate Laura as she gave us a great tour of New Orleans. I went to Homer for Thanksgiving, and then Hal and I went back to Homer and Shreveport in January for George Strait’s Cowboy Rides a Way concert. Thanks to Cindy for getting us a great room at the Horseshoe the first trip- then she got us an even better room the second trip! I know I’m a little bit country – but who has ever seen a bathroom mirror with a television built in? The shows just play on the mirror. We went from that room to cabins on Lake Claiborne – nice cabins I must say. And we saw many more cousins.

In December I received the nicest gift in the mail. It was a quilt with pictures of Dylan and the things I do to celebrate his life. Thank you Diane! I also ran into those frickin gingerbread men at the grocery store during the holidays. I bought two boxes of the bastards, thought about how much Dylan loved those gingerbread men all the way home, then got home, sat on my bed and had a complete breakdown. I had a complete sobbing fit – like I hadn’t had in about four years. I could not stop. Hal happened to call and asked what happened and I said those frickin gingerbread men. He was there right away to take care of me. Thank goodness after that I went to the Austin Country Club for brunch with 14 Christi mothers! A Christmas tradition that I can actually look forward to.

For Dylan’s birthday this year, we went to College Station. We went to Hilary’s apartment and met her German Shepard Wyatt Earp. Hilary’s mother, Diane, and I have been great friends since the third grade. Hilary went with us to eat at Texas Roadhouse, one of Dylan’s hangouts in College Station. We then went to the College Station Home Depot where Dylan was working when he died. Hal bought a bench to place in his backyard where he is building a Dylan garden. Then we took 13 roses to the gate where the accident happened. I got the eighth heart tattoo for Dylan’s birthday. That means I’m in double digits for tattoos now! A couple of weeks later we were back in College Station for a balloon release for Lindsay Walters five-year anniversary. Thirteen more roses were taken to the gate where Dylan died.

Dylan’s good friend Justin got married this year. I saw Justin in the parking lot of the hotel the day before his wedding and gave him a dog tag with Dylan’s picture on it. Justin put it on and wore it during the wedding ceremony. I was surprised and happy when I saw the wedding program “Today we honor the memory of Justin’s good friend Dylan Graves.” At the reception, I got to visit with many of Dylan’s friends. It’s just so weird that they are grown up and Dylan is still 19. After the bride, Crystal, danced with her father and Justin danced with his mother, I was called to the dance floor to honor Dylan. Justin danced with me to the song “I Hope You Dance.”

A Christi Mom had a dream about Dylan. I was somewhere with her and she saw a ball of energy above my head. She looked again and it was Dylan. She said Dylan didn’t have a hat on. She said it was like looking through a foggy window. She said Dylan was laughing and smiling and jumping up and down and waving his hands with his palms out and his fingers spread apart. She said Dylan was so happy. Now for the shocker – it’s the first time she has ever seen a face in an orb of energy. My Dylan was the first!

Tracy, another Christi mom, sent me a Mother’s Day picture – a fence post in Sulphur Springs, Texas, with Dylan Graves carved in it. I told Tracy several years ago that I thought there was something in a park in Sulphur Springs to honor Dylan. Tracy was there watching a T Ball game and walked right up to it. Tracy said there were many posts with names, but she walked right up to Dylan’s post.

My good friend Nancy’s mother died on my birthday. Nancy and I walked in the Christi Center at the same time eight years ago, and we have been on the Hayley/Dylan journey together the whole time. Christi friend John Perry’s father died. Dr. Williams, the man who gave me my first job, died. Dr. Williams was a veterinarian and a family friend for many years. I thought every job I had would be as fun as my job at the North Shreveport Animal Hospital. It turned out none were. Even though I haven’t seen Dr. Williams in many years, he had a big impact on my life – imagine how I might be if not for Dr. Williams favorable impact? My cousin, Billy Wayne’s father-in-law died. My counselor De’s husband died recently. Johnny Ray Watson, a man that I heard sing many times at Riverbend Church, died. Even though I had never met Johnny Ray, I felt like I lost a close friend. That’s how Johnny Ray was – he made every one seem like his friend.

Marianne and Hal

In the last month, I have been moving my things into Hal’s house. Yes, we are in the process of living together. It just seems right. He has practically remodeled his house to make it comfortable for me. And he has done everything possible to make room for all of Dylan’s things. He probably thinks I’m crazy because I am more concerned about having room for Dylan’s things – not mine. And Dewey and Dutchess will have three more pack mates – Big Babe, Ralphie, and Little Mitzi!

Yes – during the move I had to deal with my Dylan’s things. Three things brought me to my knees in tears: (1) moving Dylan, Domino, and Dutch’s ashes; (2) finding the letter that Joannah, Dylan’s high school girlfriend wrote and wanted read at Dylan’s funeral. It was such a nice letter about Dylan and I had not seen it in all of the eight years; and (3) the bag of Dylan’s shoes and his backpack that had been in his closet – the same place they have been untouched for 8 years. The shoes and backpack were nearly the end of me.

My Christi moms continue to be great friends and great support for me. And unfortunately, I know many more moms who were happy at this time last year, and now they are one of us. Please keep them in your thoughts because the first years are horrible! My friends, work friends, and family are still here in my village.

I have many regrets this year but the one that stands out is that I missed the Christi Center Remembrance Ceremony for the first time since Dylan died. I will not miss it again. Dylan is still in my heart and on my mind every day. But every year thoughts about Dylan are happier thoughts instead of sadness. I hope and believe that will continue.

I am still attending church regularly. In fact, during Lent I decided that I am FINISHED questioning God and wondering why things happen in my life. No more WHYS. If you have been reading the Villages you know that’s a big deal! Until next year, I will try to live like Dylan would want me to.

PS – Thanks to Hilary Soderborg for putting 13 roses at Dylan’s wreck site in College Station on Dylan Day 2013.

You can read Marianne’s previous Villages: #1 – It Takes a Village to Survive the Loss of a Child, #2 – the Village Minus Two, #3 – the Village Retires, #4, Dutch and Dutchess, #5 – Minus Old Knees, #6 – the Bible, #7 – The Accident

Filed Under: Blog, grieving, loss of a child Tagged With: Dylan, friends, Marianne McDonald, Villages

Two Men and a Dragonfly

June 25, 2014 by Lara 1 Comment

by Linda Phillips Thune

First published at http://phillips-write.typepad.com/ on April 3rd, 2012. Republished with kind permission of the author.

Some signs are so wonderful, you can’t help but believe.
When I keep my senses open, Annie’s messages find their way to me, especially when I’m needing them most. We’re days away from her being gone two years. I decided to take flowers to her tree in Old Settlers’ Park. I had meant to take the flowers the week before, but time got away from me. When I arrived, I stared at yet another message…a giant dragonfly kite was flying around Annie’s tree.

Two young men were kite-flying. It was a fine day; I couldn’t quite believe it, but there it was. After taking pictures, putting the flowers by the tree, and spending a bit of time watching and thinking of Annie, I decided to tell the two guys a story about their kite.

They were so kind. I explained to them that I lost my daughter almost two years ago; how I decided to come today, a week late, to bring flowers; and that she had a dragonfly tattoo which is why I collect dragonfly items. They expressed their condolences and then asked me if I wanted to fly the kite. It was an unexpected, gentle gesture; I was surprised…I said, “Oh no, I’ll crash it.” But the young man holding the kite assured me I wouldn’t and handed the string-filled spool to me. What an amazing feeling. The kite pulled my hands as if Annie were taking me for a walk…it looked so alive and vibrant against the blue sky. I said, “Hi Annie!” The feeling of her being at the other end of the kite momentarily materialized. I became a little verklempt and handed back the reel. I thanked them so much for being there to give me my message from Annie.
There were several angels around me that day–not just above or invisible, but in the form of two kind young men and a dragonfly kite.

Mwah, Annie.

Filed Under: Blog, Linda Thune, loss of a child, loss of a loved one to suicide Tagged With: memorial tree grove

Pieces of a Beautiful Mosaic

May 19, 2014 by Lara 1 Comment

by Janet Brown

This is a photo of me and my grandson, Jacob. His dad Joshua passed away when he was only 6 years old. Joshua was my only child. He was diagnosed with stage four colon cancer on October 12, 1998 and battled for two years. He died on October 4, 2000 at the age of 27. My world suddenly stopped.

Joshua will always be missing in the rest of our photos.

I think I knew I needed help with my grief process but I didn’t have any idea where to go. After eight long years of silent suffering and medications, my doctor suggested I go to Hospice Austin and talk with a therapist. I was eligible for six free sessions, since Joshua used their services when he was ill. After pouring out my broken heart in these sessions my therapist suggested I go to The Christi Center for additional help with my healing. I thought to myself, “What??!! I’m not well yet?” I just wanted to feel better. I wanted a magic pill to make all the pain go away.

I took her advice her advice and started attending the moms’ Monday group meetings. Going to my first meeting was the hardest and scariest decision I ever made. I remember years ago seeing Susan Cox on TV being interview about “For the Love of Christi “. I thought, “Oh how sad for those poor moms.” And years later, here I am.

With the love from The Christi Center I have come a long way in my grief journey. During my first few meetings I didn’t say anything. Just listened to the other moms tell their stories. There was no judgment or expectations. I learned I wasn’t alone in my grief. Wow! That was a revelation.

The most important thing I learned is that my grief is a life long journey. First minute by minute, then hour by hour, then day by day, then year by year. So I am evolving in my understanding of my grief and also trying to give hope to those new moms in grief.

Another way that has helped in my healing is to volunteer at The Christi Center. It lets me be a part of something bigger than myself. My stand out moment while volunteering was the fact that I wanted to volunteer. After experiencing what an awesome organization The Christi Center is and how many people they have helped, who wouldn’t want to volunteer? If I may quote a friend, Mary Graf, another volunteer: “We are all just small pieces of a beautiful mosaic.”

I think the best way to help a friend who is grieving is to first bring them to the Christi Center. I wish someone would have invited me years earlier than I went. Also be a good listener and don’t give advice on how they should be feeling. Be ready for your friend not to be themself. Just be there for them.

Filed Under: bereavement, Blog, depression, grieving, loss of a child, Uncategorized, Volunteer Spotlight

For the love of Sean

March 18, 2014 by Lara 1 Comment

By Theresa Seibold

Nothing in this world can prepare you for this moment in time. And unless someone has been down this fork of the road themselves they will not understand. The most cruel and hurtful comments from those you expect loving support from are bound to happen. Some relationships will be severed. But some new ones will form, if you give them a chance. The ball is totally in your court now and the choices you make will determine how you’ll survive the unthinkable.

My son Sean Michael had just turned 29 & spent the last Mother’s day with me when he passed May 10, 2011. He had struggled with social anxiety disorder & restless legs syndrome (all present at birth which prevented good sleep) then moved on to prescription drugs which he soon mixed with other non prescription painkillers in his teens. We had even sent him to rehab in Newport Beach for 5 months in 2008. So one might say it wasn’t a complete surprise that this (could) happen to my son but it WAS a complete shock! As a loving parent one never really think it’s going to happen to them. I don’t know which is worse, to have it be a complete random accident/surprise or to watch someone you love so deeply suffer for so long. It’s just the point that it’s unnatural for the child to pass before the parent. And it’s certainly nothing you think about when you’re having children. I had three boys in just three years time and Sean was in the middle. Ironically he’s the only one I prayed and asked God for. And further ironically, he was the only one who claimed to know God before he passed. For that I say THANK God!

This is not to say I felt this way immediately because I didn’t. In fact I experienced so much pain and loss in the first 15 to 18 months, that I found myself drinking heavily, isolating even worse than before and googling the least painful way to die. Within 2 weeks after losing Sean, my boyfriend (of nearly two years) and I split up, my best girl friend moved out of state, and my oldest son and wife not only indicated they would be moving out of state themselves but tried whole heartedly to convince me that there is no God! Honestly that was the straw that broke the camels back. Ok God I get it, there is NO human being on this planet earth that I can trust to love me & be there for me no matter what. This is exactly the way my son Sean felt and now, feeling the same; I understand this. The world was a cruel place to my sensitive son and the unsupportive jabs from his troubled father didn’t help. So what the hell am I doing here too? This was a burning question for a long time and one that felt I was living in the chapter of Job with. This is when I did my Google search. And I was serious…very serious.

My own mother hadn’t let my handicap sister (whom I’m very close with) come to my son’s funeral. She had no regard whatsoever for my feelings and honestly never has. So why in the world I expected for anything to be different, I don’t know. But I just did. I thought “this is the exception to every rule and people must know how painful this is so they won’t add salt to the wound.” But they do, they did and they not only added salt but poured some lemon in it too! And it wasn’t just my mom, that’s for sure! Most of my family & friends showed their true colors and either deserted me because they didn’t know what to do (thus easier route for them) or were totally disgusted about my apparent mental breakdown. This only fed into my desire to join my deceased son. I felt completely broken, ALONE, helpless and hopeless. I was quite sure the world not only wouldn’t miss me but would be way better off without me. This was the way I perceived my family & friends felt. I was mad as hell at the world and even madder at the God that created it! In a nutshell I was just MAD- literally insane! But God was already busy placing some very pivotal people my life. I wish I could say this was my first rodeo with the whole idea of suicide. But the truth is it wasn’t. And in retrospect I can see why my need for other people and my codependency built over a lifetime was the real culprit.

The importance of pivotal people cannot be understated. A family friend who had lost a child and been through the horrors of addiction too, stayed close from the beginning and spent a lot of time just listening to me. Because I live alone and work alone this person’s presence and listening skills were priceless! Then I must give much credit due to my Zisters (aka Christi Chicks) which God placed in my life after allowing my experience with the Devil living in my house. Several Zisters (those who’ve earned their stripes in losing children) placed in the right place at the right time, invited me to the Christi Center. One of their husbands drove us back and forth as often as we wanted to attend on Monday nights. Guys, your role is vitally important so I want to be considerate of your needs too! This began my journey healing in the company of those and ONLY those who can really know what I feel. I got involved in a mother’s writing group called In Mother Words just a few weeks later. This journaling helped me release an incredible amount of pain!

A great irony is that my faith that has sustained me was cast early in my life mostly due to my “church lady” mother’s influence. The very one who abused me and helped create this deep codependency is also the one that introduced me to my higher power/God.

Today I am walking a much healthier, happier path. I have friends and support groups that are invaluable to me. But even more important is the fact that I am taking responsibility for my own choices in my life, not blaming others, learning more about Forgiveness (both for others and myself) and caring more about my relationship with God. Hence I’m taking better care of myself because I feel loved in a way that can’t come from the outside or any human being. And I love the way voice text spells human “bean”! Because that’s just what we are. A little seed planted, some growth received but soon returned home. Ashes to ashes and dust to dust this journey is but a short walk into eternity. And so today my mantra is: God what do You want me to do with it?

Until we meet again (my Seanster Monster) Via Con Dios & May God cradle (Us All) in the palm of his Loving Hand.

(Your Momster) Theresa

Filed Under: bereavement, Blog, depression, grieving, loss, loss of a child, loss of a loved one to suicide, sadness, Testimonials, Uncategorized

Another Year, Another Chance…

March 11, 2014 by Lara Leave a Comment

This post is reprinted by permission of L. Phillips Thune. You can follow Linda’s grief journey on her blog, “Running for Home–In the Words of L. Phillips Thune“, as well as in her previous entries for The Christi Center blog here and here. –Lara

Fall certainly came and went with its cooler winds and falling leaves, confused by the triple-digit, on again-off again temperature changes. One day I’m preparing for a new semester in 2013 and the next…well, starting a new spring semester in 2014.

Holden

Last August, my grandson turned the big 2! Holden is still golden, full of questions and observations and concerns and wonders. His eyes can sparkle with mischief and in seconds be shrouded in annoyance. But his clouds don’t last long. That’s what I loved about having my babies…there was always that energy-filled eagerness to return to joy.

Harper

Baby sister, Harper, now 1 in December, is already her own girl, always sizing up the room. You have to work hard to gain her audience…and it’s worth it.

And granddaughter, Perren, is right in between her cousins, having turned 1 in September…absorbing, dancing, always engaging.

Perren

I’ve kept sewing, too. ‘Alice and Lula,’ my one-woman sewing room is still percolating, growing closer to fruition. The quilt above that Perren (along with a very old Ellie Belle) is sitting on is a Lone Star pattern I recently learned to make; it became a September wedding gift for one of Annie’s friends.

Alice & Lula logo

The sewing business my family is helping me develop is named after my two grandmothers, both sewists: Alice, my maternal grandmother who was a silk presser and could make couture pieces, and Lula, my paternal grandmother who made quilts that, from the two that I’ve tracked down, are as beautiful and current as ever. Unfortunately, I never lived close enough to know them very well or to learn from them many of life’s secrets; maybe they’re guiding me to a connection delicately drawn by silver threads.

I even got brave enough to make a dress although Annie’s doggie, Princess, is the real star of this picture. (However, I should win an Oscar because I’d just stepped in ‘doggie presents’ trying to be a model!)

I enjoyed taking youngest daughter, Halla, 20, to the Austin Film Festival (my fourth year) and Tiera, now 25, to see the musical, “A Night with Janis.” Both were amazing events made more special by the company. Thanksgiving dinner brought most of us together at our oldest daughter’s home. Christmas Day again found Santa (and his helpers) filling stockings, wrapping presents, and feeding my lovely girls, sons-in-law, and grands at my house. It means more than I can put into words how hard my girls work to be with me on Christmas morning. When they were growing up, Christmas was a story I loved creating year after year: Santa was coming and bringing gifts to teach us how to love and share and believe. Peter still makes Christmas breakfast: his grandmother’s sweet bread rusk; this Christmas, the request was for his home-made doughnuts. Now, Merete and Asha, their husbands and children all come to the house, along with Halla and Tiera (who is a pro at making the four-hour drive at the drop of a hat–and in only three hours) all surround Peter and I with the greatest gifts we could ever receive.

It’s not quite right when I say the holidays are hard without Annie; every day still contains at least one moment of disbelief or sinking sadness or just soul-deep longing. Yet there are also moments of remembering her funny walk, how she thought many things were “stupid” or “a bad idea,” how she, deaf, was the best dancer in the family, and how she never got lost–although she seemed to hit quite a few curbs, deer, and other strange objects along the way. Her Princess still sleeps with Peter and me (in the center of a king-size bed!) for what will be four years this April. Peter and I just curl around her and hope that Annie is smiling. I sometimes wonder if the Grand Scheme had her adopt Princess so we’d have some of Annie to hold onto for a little while longer…anything is possible. I’ll ask her when I see her again.

Annie with Princess

Mwah.

About the Author:

After working for several years as a Family Support Coordinator for Any Baby Can and EveryChild, Inc., Linda received a B.A. in Liberal Arts from UT-Austin and a M.A. in Literature from Texas State. She now works as an adjunct English Professor at Austin Community College and says “This can be a perfect job for empty-nesters; I get 28 new “babies” every semester!”

Linda keeps her writing practice going as a blog, which she started on Annie’s birthday in 2010: www.phillips-write.typepad.com. She is currently working on several writing projects about her family, her girls, and her father…. She promises to tell us more how quilting is helping her heal.

Filed Under: animal therapy, animals, bereavement, Blog, Linda Thune, loss of a child, loss of a loved one to suicide, mourn, mourning, music, pets Tagged With: Annie, grandchilren, Linda Thune, pets, writing