Nina reviews books touching on grief...

Note: Nina wrote to let me know she regularly reviews books over at Amazon, particularly books that touch on the grief experience. She was kind enough to allow us to share some of her thoughts on different tiles here, too. I think you'll find her reviews helpful!

Book Reviews by Nina Bennett (author of Forgotten Tears)

Love Is a Mix Tape: Life and Loss, One Song at a Time
by Rob Sheffield
5 out of 5 stars
music as metaphor for life

I purchased this book, after little more than a cursory glance at the dust cover info, because of the title. Sheffield shares the essence of his love, loss and journey of healing through a series of mix tapes. The alt music of the 90s isn't my music, but mix tapes have a universality that transcends time and genre. As someone who has made and received mix tapes, I relate to the careful thought and ordering process behind them, and appreciate their importance. I took great delight in the revelation of Rob and Renee's relationship through the music that brought them together.

Sheffield's writing is crisp and edgy enough to hold your attention. He is never maudlin, yet his despair over his wife's death is evident. Even though I knew from the beginning of the book that Renee died, I was still stunned when I actually read that chapter. Sheffield evokes such a tangible energy and vibrant personality that I found it incomprehensible that Renee could be dead.

Love is a Mix Tape serves as much more than a memorial; it is an explosive celebration of life and an affirmation of the power of music to bind people together.


The Memory Keeper's Daughter
by Kim Edwards
5 out of 5 stars
beautifully crafted

Kim Edwards' novel is one of those rare books I forced myself to read slowly, because her writing is so beautiful, her use of language so evocative, that I couldn't bear to reach the end. David and Norah Henry are absolutely believable. The slow, painful unraveling of their marriage is an entirely accurate depiction of the aftermath of unvalidated grief. Norah longs to mourn and acknowledge the baby she believes died at birth, while David urges her to put the experience behind her and rejoice in their living,healthy son. The author's ability to capture the complex and contradictory emotions of grieving a deceased child while loving and parenting a living child is amazing. This is complicated even more by the fact that the baby's death is a lie David decided to tell in an attempt to protect his wife.

As the grandmother of a full term, unexpectedly stillborn baby girl, I know first hand the long term effects of this kind of grief. It is remarkable to me that Edwards is able to accurately capture the many ways, both small and large, in which unspoken grief permeates and alters relationships. I actually had to remind myself that this is a novel and not a memoir. Edwards' descriptions are breathtaking; she absolutely takes command of the English lanuage. Her book provokes the reader to consider the destructive power of secrets, as well as to examine what truly constitutes a fulfilling, satisfying life.


A Broken Heart Still Beats: After Your Child Dies
by Anne McCracken
5 out of 5 stars
an amazing anthology

When my granddaughter was born still, I immediately turned to the solace offered by the written word, finding that to be much more helpful than the empty cliches and platitudes offered by acquaintances. This is an incredible collection of writing, both fiction and nonfiction, essay and poetry, on the subject of the loss of a child. Many, if not most, of the writers included have experienced this most devastating of all losses. The authors introduce each section with personal writing that forms an intimate connection. They draw from classic literature as well as modern, making this a book that offers something to everyone. I found myself re-reading sections in an attempt to hold off coming to the end of this sustaining book. I doubt this book will ever make it to my bookshelf, as I will be turning to it often for inspiration and comfort.


Life Touches Life: A Mother's Story of Stillbirth and Healing
by Lorraine Ash
5 out of 5 stars
Eloquent

As a bereaved grandmother of a stillborn girl, I found this account to be absolute magic. The author's use of language is lyrical.I could not wait to contact Lorraine Ash and tell her how moved I was after reading her book. This is the kind of book I would give as a gift to a bereaved parent.

About Being a Mom...like any other parent...

article by Kara L.C. Jones,
quotes compiled by Poppy Hullings

"Making the decision to have a child-it's momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body."
-Elizabeth Stone

"A Mother holds her children's hands for a while...their hearts forever."
-unknown

"When you are a mother, you are never really alone in your thoughts. You are connected to your child and to all those who touch your lives. A mother always has to think twice, once for herself and once for her child."
-Sophia Loren

"One generation plants the trees; another gets the shade."
-Chinese proverb

Poppy found these quotes about being a mother, a parent, and she sent them around to some of us for Mother's Day a couple years ago. I think what struck me most was that these are quotes that were most likely written or said in reference to being a parent to a living child. But, being that my son is dead, I of course read these with the eyes of a mother whose child is physically gone. And yet, each quote here still applies. Poppy understood that. So did all the parents to whom she sent these. But I'm sure you've all encountered many people who don't get it.

So I wanted to write a little about being a mom, a bereaved mom. Wanted to look at these quotes one by one and say a bit about what they mean to the bereaved parent. Maybe this will be something you can share with those who don't get it. Maybe it will just be an "a-ha" moment for you yourself. Maybe it's just one bereaved mother, writing to survive yet another Mother's Day without her kid. Here's goes:

"Making the decision to have a child - it's momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body."
-Elizabeth Stone

What surprises me most is when people don't understand how the momentous decision to have a child affects us regardless of whether our children outlive us or not. The moment I decided to keep my pregnancy, to carry to term, to give birth -- that was the moment that I began walking around with my heart outside my body. And when they pulled my dead baby from my womb, it was still just as momentous a decision to have this baby as it would have been if he would have been alive. And yet, somehow, in this world, my decision to be a parent, to have a child, is completely discounted or ignored because my child's birth ended in death. As if my decision stopped there. As if my parenthood stopped there.

Hello?!? As much as a parent with a living child walks around with their heart outside their body -- well, a bereaved parent is just as vulnerable. We are walking around with, not only our heart out there, but a broken heart at that. And the huge, momentous decision to have a child -- is still just that. It is still a decision that changed our lives forever. It is still a decision that made each of us a parent to someone. Momentous. Yes. Indeed.

"A Mother holds her children's hands for a while...their hearts forever."
-unknown

Some of us hold their hands for a very, very short time. We spend a lifetime after their burials or cremations holding their hearts in ours. And sadly, without the physical presence of our children, many of us have our parenthood ignored daily. The world sees our living children only. The dead ones don't count. The world often seems very uninterested in our hearts, seems to not care how many hearts we hold within. But other bereaved parents get it. Our children are our children forever.

"When you are a mother, you are never really alone in your thoughts. You are connected to your child and to all those who touch your lives. A mother always has to think twice, once for herself and once for her child."
-Sophia Loren

Isn't that the truth? You might scoff at the idea of a bereaved parent thinking twice. You might ask why they would even have to consider someone who is dead. You might think they should just get over it already. Well, I have news for you. The bereaved parent thinks twice about talking to clueless people. They guard their heart and the memory and legacy of their children. And they think twice about whether or not to share those things with clueless people who don't get it.

More than that, many parents find that their normal day to day lives, their everyday work is totally meaningless after a child's death. They find renewed life and meaning by creating a legacy for their kids. They may start a non-profit. They may write. They might make art or do outreach to other families. And in any of the things that have "meaning" after a child's death, believe me, the parents are thinking of the legacy they are creating.

They are making their parenthood tangible. Giving the world a way to acknowledge the power of a child's life and death. Indeed, we are never alone after becoming a bereaved parent. Our dead child is constantly in heart and mind. It is a parenthood that does not end. Just as being a parent to a living child does not end. It morphs and changes over time with age and growth. But it does not end. Same for bereaved parents.

"One generation plants the trees; another gets the shade."
--Chinese proverb

We plant the seeds today of how our children are important, they matter, in life and in death. And that opens dialogue, creates outlets for all kinds of parenthood, gives shade, outreach, education to the next generation. Bereaved parents who are open about their grief, their parenthood, their dead children -- these are the people who are smashing the taboo, bringing the secrets out of the closet, refusing to shame surviving or subsequent siblings who are aware of the missing child. We plant the trees now, and our surviving children will grow up to be healthier and more well-adjusted parents to their own kids.

Well, that's just a few of my initial reactions and thoughts about these quotes. Some of you might wonder if it's appropriate to include parents during Mother's Day and Father's Day after their child has died. I say, they are still parents. Why is there even a question about including them.


About the Author
Kara is a freedom seeking, guerrilla artist who believes there is solace and healing in artistic expression. She's made a personal and spiritual commitment to her life as an artist, dedicating her 1,000 Faces of Mother Henna project to the Bodhisattva Jizo.

Book Reviews...

First up, a few reviews of books for bereaved children, done by Corey and Abbey who miss their baby sister Nora. We'd like to thank them for reaching out to other bereaved siblings in this way! And then below that, a few books we've gotten in house and are really appreciating. One of these we have yet to compose our own in-house review, so we're sharing one of the reviews found on Amazon. And the others are also Amazon reviews, but done by our KotaPress editor Kara Jones. For those of you still awaiting reviews of your books, thank you for your patience! Katie, our co-editor at KotaPress, is currently catching up and we'll post her reviews soon... miracles!!


When Death Walks In, by Mark Scrivani, ISBN# 1-56123-012-X

Review by Corey
The best part of this book is that it addresses feelings I felt when my sister died. The first part of the book dealt with everything you experience when a loved one dies. It tells you that the feelings are normal and even good to have , but to not let the feelings control you. It tells you that you don’t have to be strong, that you can face your feelings. The book talks about sadness, anger, guilt and confusion. It teaches you how to sort out your feelings, even how to have happiness during grief. This book is mainly for teenagers and it would help them to understand their feelings and how to deal with them the right way. My favorite part of the book would be the feelings section. It helped me to realize that I am not alone and that my feelings have all been okay. It showed me how to use my grief in a better way. I also liked that it went deeper than the five stages of grief. What I didn’t like about the book would be that the author thinks the way you live your life is the way you will grieve. I don’t think the feelings you have before you experienced a loss determines the way you will feel afterwards. I think it is different for everyone. Overall it was a very good book for teenagers who lost a loved one and will help them through this.

****

Fire in My Heart, Ice in my Veins, by Enid Samuel-Traisman, M.S.W., ISBN# 1-56123-056-1

Review by Corey
I really struggled with this book. This book brought up a lot of emotions that I wasn’t ready for. This book is a workbook with questions about your loved one and how you are feeling. It asks some really difficult questions and really makes you think. I think that this book is harder for those who did not spend time with their loved one, for example my sister died right before she was born. There are many things that I didn’t get to do with her so the questions made me sad over what I didn’t get. But the book does make you put your feelings on paper and describe your life with and without your loved one. I realized that this book addresses things that I have been avoiding over the past six years. I think in time, after I complete the book, it will help me to understand more about my personal feelings. I think it will definitely help those who are struggling.

****

Everett Anderson’s Goodbye, by Lucille Clifton, ISBN# 0-8050-0800-4

Review by Corey
This book helped me realize what I was feeling when Nora first died and I was only seven. I didn’t understand what I was feeling. I went through the emotions so fast I couldn’t recognize them. I think it would help younger kids know what they are feeling when their loved one dies. I liked how the book categorized the different stages into his daily life. I like how the book reminds you that you can still love a person after they died, they will always be in their heart. It shows Everett going on with life but still remembering his father.

Review by Abby
This book really helped me because I understood how I can take care of my grief a little better than I do. It talked about my feelings I had when Nora died. I thought I could be good and bring Nora back or I thought I could do magic to bring her back. I still always hope it was a bad dream. This book would help other kids because they would understand what they are feeling and to ask adults for help. I liked how Everett was like me. The best advice was how Everett realized in the end love doesn’t stop when the person you love dies.

****

We were Gonna Have a Baby, but We had an Angel Instead, by Pat Schwiebert, ISBN 0-9724241-1-3

Review by Corey
This book is for very little children who don’t fully understand whats going on. This book will be helpful in many ways. First, it shows them how their parents and other family members are feeling. It also shows little children that they are not alone when their baby sister or brother doesn’t live. The book really touched me because it was exactly what I went through with my moms pregnancy with Nora. I loved how they showed the baby as an angel traveling with their brother, it was so sweet.

Review by Abby
When I first read this book, I was like wow because it was exactly like what happened to me. Mom had always said she would always live in our hearts. I think it would help other kids with their grief because they could always remember the baby that died and remember that they are still a big brother or big sister.. They can remember that the baby will always be in their hearts. It helped me because I know that an angel is always with me wherever I go. The best part about the book is the pictures. I loved the little angel that was always there with the little boy. I liked the book a lot.

****

Star Child by Jennifer J. Martin, ISBN-13: 978-0595402168

Amazon review by J. Soos
As a bereaved mother myself, I've read my fair share of books on the topic and this is by far one of the most powerful. Martin is not just a grieving mother - but an old soul with an artist's vision - and her emotion-filled descriptions aren't just lines of flowery poetry. She is brave enough to hold the looking glass up to the whole of her experience...the parts people know about as well as the parts most people don't talk about. In addition to sharing her precious son with us, she also memorializes other children and gives us a peek into the grief journeys of so many. Since one of the greatest difficulties in facing a child's death is the overwhelming feeling of loneliness, this collection of stories serves well as a reminder that there are others who share this path. If you have experienced the death of a child, I suspect you will find warm comfort when you discover yourself in her courageous story-telling.

****

I Never Held You by Ellen M. DuBois, ISBN-13: 978-1932014204

Amazon review by Kara L.C. Jones
Ellen and all the contributors to this book speak in a straight-forward manner about miscarriage, grieving, blaming, letting go, and moving forward. Notice I don't say "getting over it". This books shares the realities of living with grief, reintegrating after loss, transcending your child's death to become someone different than you were before death touched your life. This is a kind of validation after miscarriage that is sorely needed in the support world!

****

Stories of the Unborn Soul by Elisabeth Hallett, ISBN-13: 978-0595223619

Amazon review by Kara L.C. Jones
When I was pregnant, I read Hallett's books "Soul Trek" and "In the Newborn Year", both of which are FAB books. Now this collection is out and it's amazing. What is most interesting to me, is the fact that Hallett includes not only the "happy la-la" stories of pregnancy, but also the realities of loss and grief that some of us face. And there is healing here in that acknowledgment and recognition of parenthood in all its forms. Thanks, Elisabeth!

Morticia meets the Ladybugs...

Lifted from Dr. Cacciatore's Blog

I have always been different. Even growing up, friends at school and even family, though they always liked me, thought me an odd-ball.

I became a vegetarian in a strict Sicilian household that ate 27 servings of meat a day; bacon and sausage for breakfast, cappicola and salami for lunch, pork chops and brojol for dinner. Even desserts might contain meat. My parents thought my herbivorism was a "phase". That was 32 years ago. I never outgrew that phase.

Friends also had good reason to lift a nostril at me. I would walk around bugs from class to class, careful never to step on one. I would, at the outrage of many girlfriends who spent the night at my house, catch spiders in my room to release them outside. I would fight my parents when they wanted to use pesticides.

I couldn't stand the thought of harming other creatures. I've always had a sense that humans should be good stewards of the earth and its creatures.

Well, it's been a very long few weeks, as I've had my daughter who died in 1994 disinterred to be cremated and brought home. This was something I desperately wanted to do 14 years ago but was dissuaded by well-intending others. It's been two weeks of regrief and retrauma. Now, I feel like I'm finally rejoining the world of the living...(see Dr. C's blog for more on this unfolding).

Last night, my two youngest and I escaped the house to which I have confined myself the past 15 days. We saw a movie that, for me, required no cerebral activity: The Forbidden Kingdom with Jackie Chan and Jet Li. Now, I will admit, I'm a big martial arts fan, having received my own purple belt years ago with two great senseis, Dino Homsey and Tim Wion. I'm also very fond of Eastern culture, as the philosophies of harmlessness and kindness seem to have been a part of my character since a very early age.

Then, today, I watched Seven Years in Tibet, at the behest of my daughter, a Brad Pitt fan. Obviously, the film's setting was in Tibet's capital, Lhasa. A young Dalai Lama, the 14th Holiness Tenzin Gyatso, did something that would make perfect sense to me. As they unearthed worms in order to build a structure for His Holiness, he insisted that each and every worm must be relocated to a safe place to spare their life. This was so beautiful. The idea that even a worm is worthy of respect.

That brings me to this afternoon when my daughter and I stopped by the hardware store for some wood. At the counter, I notice three plastic containers of "Ladybugs".

"Oh, mom," she said, "ladybugs!"

"Wow," I said, picking up a plastic container with about 100 ladybugs.

Then, because I just had to look, I noticed they were dying.

I said, "Oh, we have to buy these to set them free."

They were not inexpensive. But I thought this act was consistent with who I am and have always been. So of course, I thought, it's what I must do.

Then, I looked closer. There were four more plastic containers. Then three more. Then two more. In all, we ended up buying about 1000 ladybugs. Customers behind me in line were looking at me like I had green skin and antennas poking out my limbic region. And my daughter, despite my insistence to the contrary, felt compelled to text all her friends to tell them about her weird mom.

So, I set hundreds of ladybugs free in my backyard with my 11-year-old, his eyes like a toddler at Christmas, as grateful polka dotted creatures crawled up our arms and in our hair.

And I felt good. And I smiled. And I laughed.

All for less than the cost of an hours worth of psychotherapy...


"...The more difficult the journey,
the greater the depth of purification."
From Seven Years in Tibet

Surviving and Subsequent Siblings...

There is sometimes an inclination to dismiss the experience a child will have after the death of a brother or sister. But children, both very young and older -- even subsequently born children -- will have their own place in the family system as everyone figures out how to live after the death of a child. They will be affected by the grief that waves in and out for their parents, they most likely have their own sadness and questions, they may revisit the grief at each new stage of development.

In fact, recently I was reminded that siblings are affected even when they might be subsequently born and no one ever mentions the child who died. Over the years, I've communicated with one of our readers quite a lot about the deaths of her own children. Eventually, she shared that she knew her own mother had experienced this kind of loss, in fact, several losses between the birth of one sibling and the other. Because she had found our materials helpful herself, she decided to share these resources with her mother and ask about the siblings who had died, who she'd always wondered about, who had always been present, if not mentioned.

Mind you, this is half a century later, that this daughter is approaching her mother about their shared experiences of being bereaved parents. When she wrote to tell me that what passed between them during this excavation of grief was enormously healing, I simply sat at my computer screen and cried. How brave they both are for "coming out of the closet" as it were!

Yes, parents and children both need support for the immediate crisis after the death of a child, but also over the long term as their lives unfold. This is all so very normal. And yet because we've all be closeted for so many years, it is quite extraordinary.

So today, I wanted to share resources for bereaved children and encourage you parents to seek your own support and also put supports in place for your surviving and subsequently born sibling children. Grief affects us all. It's okay. Just be sure you all have your needs met as your lives unfold.

Resources

Tear Soup -- this is a wonderful picture book! Available from Grief Watch...

Flying Hugs and Kisses -- a great picture book about siblings helping each other during the grief experience...

So Much To Think About - this is such a wonderful combination of a picture book, coloring book, activity book. Any materials from Family Communications (producers of Mister Rogers Neighborhood) is always thorough. Kids are prompted to draw, color, write, talk. *Highly recommend this one*!


KISS - Kids In Sympathy & Support is the children's outreach of the MISS Foundation. KISS does a wonderful kids camp during the annual MISS conference!


Dougy Center


Highmark Caring Place



Children's Bereavement Center

Miracles!
k-

Creative Therapy, Photo Art, and more...

Creative Therapy Catalysts
Many of you know that, for a long time, I've kept a space on the main Kota site for a Healing Arts column where I share creative ideas for expressing our feelings, figuring out where we are, what's next, and just trying to map our way. Well I'm excited to now share with you a wonderful blog called Creative Therapy where a team of artists work on creative ideas, share the results, and then offer all of us the same catalyst for expression. Once you've created your own art in answer to the catalyst, you post it on your own blog and then leave comment over at Creative Therapy to share your entry with everyone there. It is very interesting to see all the different ways we create!!

To see one of my responses to catalyst "what you like best about you", where I am exploring relationship to my body after a stillbirth, click here.

Here's a note off the Creative Therapy blog's About page from founder Karen Grunberg:

I don’t want to call this a challenge site since challenge and creative therapy don’t go together in my opinion. So, we’re going to call them catalysts, since our goal is for the work to be the catalyst for our life and a catalyst for you to feel inspired to create your own piece of creative therapy.

So, come on over. Pull up a chair and create your own therapeutic art.

***

Photo Art ... the early days of grief
Recently had an email exchange with a newly bereaved mom whose daughter was stillborn at the end of February. In these early days of grief, she discovered our Mrs. Duck and the Woman book and wrote to say she felt a creative kinship. When I wrote back, I included the links to our site and the blog here and offered that we are always open to sharing creative works of bereaved parents. And so this week, Jane, Penelope's momma, sent me the following photos. Click on them to see them in a little more detail. Especially this first one of the hand reaching out of the dark -- speaks to me so much. I remember the early days of my own grief, right after Kota died. I often found myself on the floor of the dark hallway between our bedroom and the livingroom. I simply could not get up. But once in a while I'd reach my hand up out of the dark and there would be my husband or the kind, support of my friend Jo. Many thanks to you, Jane, for sharing these works here now.

***

Sand Art or Sand Play Therapy
Many months ago, I attended a retreat where we were encouraged to play with sand art as a creative expression of grief or transition or whatever we were feeling. I found it to be so interesting to see all the different ways people dressed the sand trays, dug up parts of it, etc. Afterward, I mentioned my experience to MIRA's mom and she surprised me by saying she, too, had just attended workshop where they did sand play therapy. More than that, she had photos to share! I was so excited to see what she had done and to read her words about the experience. So now, I'm honored to share that with you here. Click on the photos to see them in a bit more detail. Many thanks to you, MIRA's mom!!

In Her Own Words
There was a session on healing through sandplay that was very interesting. We were given a container of sand and hundreds of figurines and objects. Then told to create our world. I created an ideal/fantasy vs. actual/reality world in my sand. I attached 2 pictures of my little creation. The short explanation of what you see is: In the ideal world MIRA would be alive or I would have true peace and acceptance surrounding her death. The sand would be smooth there. But in reality there are only moments of peace some longer than others but the sand isn't smooth and there are also plenty of jagged/wavy/dotted lines to fall into because grief can creep up on you so quickly and unexpectedly.

***

If you are grieving yourself or offering care to the bereaved, please click through on the links here to learn more about these creative therapies!
Miracles,
k-

Honoring Lily...

In a Mother's Own Words

from Melanie, Lily's mom

I must admit, the photo was my idea, but visiting Lily on Robbie's 8th birthday was his. Sometimes it's odd for me to think that my children, all three of them, feel comfortable in a cemetery, playing and reading the stones aloud to each other, wondering about the children there. I think they feel at peace there, close to Lily, like I do.

It wasn't always that way...I didn't visit Lily's stone until close to a year after she died. Now, her stone is very special to Robbie, Jake and Brady...and to me. It was a beautiful hot day and we didn't have any flowers that day so I felt sort of sad and the picture popped into my head. So here we are, our feet all there, with Lily's stone. All my children together brings me a deep, rooted sense of peace.

About the Photographer

Melanie mothers four beautiful children, Robbie, Jake, and Brady here on earth and Lily in death. Pursuing peace is Melanie's constant journey, whether through art, supporting others, supporting herself, or just simply playing in the cemetery....when Lily died 5 years ago, Melanie thought she would die. Sometimes, she still does...but peace comes in waves and often it comes when she is with her boys and their beautiful, and dirty feet.

Editor's note
Being a bereaved mom myself, I know what it is like to lose all tangible signs of your family as a whole. This contribution to our blog means a lot to me because this photo captures a tangible sign of the "whole", the new normal, the re-definition of family portrait that comes after grief has stormed into our lives and we've re-build our identities. It is only after we re-create identity that a sense of peace returns. Thanks, Mel!

Grandma Nina in a new book on stillbirth and miscarriage...

Nina Bennett, author who has written many articles about the journey of a bereaved grandparent, wrote today to let us know she has a poem being published in a new, upcoming anthology:

Mourning Sickness:
articles and poetry about miscarriage and stillbirth

The publication date for the print book is May and in the meantime, they've launched a blog at:

mourningsicknessbook.blogspot.com

Check it out!

The notion of "healing"...

The notion of "healing"...
by Kara L.C. Jones
It has been over nine years since my own son died at birth. I have l-o-n-g been thinking about the notion of "healing" and what exactly that means in terms of my individual situation and in terms of any trauma anyone experiences. And I've come to a few conclusions for myself. As always, these are just answers I've personally come to through my own trial by fire. I'm not suggesting that these answers will be your answers. I'm not suggesting that your experience won't have brought you to a completely different place. But I'm sharing these things here in the hope that they might offer a perspective that will be helpful in some small way.
Healing seems to come with this baggage in our culture that says you must be over the trauma, you must stop talking about it, you must let it go and be "normal" or "as you were before the trauma" in order to truly be healed. And if you keep talking about the traumatic experience, there are many people (sometimes family, friends, caregivers who should know better) who will not only demand you "get over it" but also will make you feel guilty for not being well adjusted enough to find "healing" in your life. I think that notion of "healing" is b.s.
Through my life-after-the-death-of-a-child experiences, I found several things to be true:

• Healing means giving voice to the traumatic experience
• Healing means giving voice to that experience *over time*
• Healing means letting that voice change & evolve just as your perspectives change & evolve
• Healing means connecting outside self, back to the world-at-large, about the experience

And so what does this have to do with Poetry or Art Therapy? Well, I think it is possible to use poetry to achieve some sense of "healing" as I've re-defined it here. Let me flesh this out a bit by sharing some of my story as it unfolded these past four years.

*Giving voice to the traumatic experience*

When my son died, I didn't think I'd ever want to talk to anyone about him, about his birth, about anything ever again. I just wanted to die. I wanted to be with my child, and he was dead, so...? I felt shame about my body. I am his mother, I'm suppose to protect him. I am a woman, I am suppose to give birth. But I let my son die inside me. When I gave birth, they told me I would not get a birth certificate. I felt I had failed to even give birth, let alone to birth a living child.
While I was still in the hospital, a good friend brought me a new writing journal and a pen. And I began to write immediately. I wrote, "3/11/99, 4:47pm, your baby is dead." And I wrote and wrote and wrote and wrote. I wrote poems, I wrote a short story, I wrote letters and emails to friends. And with everything I wrote, I was voicing the story.

Poetry exercise for you to try:

If you cannot find a speaking voice for the experience, get pen & paper or keyboard & screen and write. Write a free verse poem about the day the trauma happened. Or write only three lines, but try to tell the entire story in those three lines. Write about the day before, the day of, and the day after the event. Don't censor yourself, don't edit, just write. Voice every thought and feeling about it.

*Giving voice over time*

My experience of life-after-the-death-of-my-child was very different on the day he died from what it was a year later. I am still living that experience now four years later. And I realized very early on, that when parents birth living children, they get to give voice to their parenthood over their entire lifetime. But because my child was dead, there were pressures from the beginning to stop giving voice to my parenthood. For some reason, I just knew inside me that those pressures were not right. My mother is my mother. When she dies, she will continue to be my mother. I felt the same about my child. And I would not let anyone tell me anything different.
I met many women who had been silenced after the death a child. So many people had told them it was "not normal" to keep talking about their children, that they just shut up about it. This is not to say they stopped grieving, and they certainly didn't have the opportunity to get toward anything remotely like healing. But they were closeted and silent. I would not let that happen to me.

Poetry exercise for you to try:

Now try writing a poem with several stanzas. Make the first stanza be in the voice you would have had on the day the trauma happened. Make the second stanza in the voice you had a week later. Third stanza, a month. Fourth stanza, a year.
If you have journals from something that happened to you awhile ago, take them out again. Pick out a piece of writing from the day of, a week later, a month, then a year later. Put those pieces together in a row. Now write with the voice you have today about the event.

*Let your voice evolve & gain new perspectives*

As time went by, the voice of my story evolved. At first, I wrote poems about my personal heart break. Later, I wrote poems of outrage upon learning that 7 babies die every two hours in the U.S. alone, due to stillbirth. At first, I wrote about how someone told me I was young and could have another baby so I shouldn't be sad. Then I wrote about the insanely, outrageous, abusive things bereaved parents hear all the time from people who supposedly care about them. At first I wrote about my son Dakota. Then my husband and I started KotaPress as outreach to others. At first I wrote how disappointed I was to not get a birth certificate. Now I lobby my State Representatives to change the laws about how birth certificates are given.
So you see that the voice evolved and changed as my perspectives evolved and changed. But I am still voicing the same story -- that of my son's death and my continued parenthood.

Poetry exercise for you to try:

You are giving voice to the same trauma experience, but you need not cling to the perspective of that voice. I am not advocating that we stay stuck and bemoan our fate as "victims" of horrible things. I am advocating that we voice the experience over time with a willingness to let the voice evolve as our life and perspectives evolve.
So sit down now and give voice to the same story -- but this time write it as if you were writing a letter to your Senator or Congress person to demand change in our world so that no one else would ever experience the trauma you experienced. Then compare this "letter" to the "free verse" poem you wrote in the first exercise. It's the same story, yes? And yet does the voice seem a bit different somehow?

*Connect back to the world-at-large THROUGH your experience*

There was a time when I thought I would have to set my child aside, put him away, be "over" his life and death before I could ever hold or love another child. And because of this, I was not able to hold or love another! I hated other children, I was jealous of them, and I had a hard heart -- why? Because I viewed the other children as competition, as replacements to my son. Then a good friend got pregnant, and she did not let me put my son aside. She was full on, huge-belly pregnant and *still willing* to talk about my son. When her child was born, she handed the baby to me and said that she was certain my son had been an angel watching over the birth. And suddenly I was holding this other child *through* the view of my son's life and death.
I am suggesting here that we can re-connect to the world-at-large again after a trauma *through* the view and voice of that experience RATHER THAN having to get over and shut up about the experience before reconnecting.
Now, I know this is a delicate proposal because there have been lots of people in my life who have other children who didn't want me to talk about my dead kid around their kids; others who refused to let me celebrate my son's birthday because they were scared to face their own mortality by recognizing my son's third birth/death day. And those people behaved in a way that felt horrid and abusive and did everything they could to shut me up, shut me down, and make my son go away. So it can be a risky deal to head out into the world THROUGH the voice of your experience because you never know when you will come across a friend, family member, counselor, or other care giver who will slam you with their own fears of death/trauma, etc.
BUT, I say that we can take our voice out into the world. We can read at poetry readings. We can seek to publish our works. We can try to change laws or provide outreach support that we know is lacking because we didn't get it.
After I wrote my poetry about my son, we published it. I went out to readings and read it -- sometimes through sobs. And you know what happened sometimes??? One time an 80 year old woman came to me after a reading and she was in tears. She told me her son had died in exactly the same way 50 years ago and everything I read that night was stuff she had wanted to say all these years but never thought she would be heard. On other days I get random emails from all over the world from other parents and care givers who say, "Wow! I've thought this for a long time, but didn't know anyone else thought that!" And slowly I reconnected with people, with the poetry world.
After I wrote my poetry, I was asked to help change the laws about birth certificates. I was asked to write letters to government officials and share my story. And I was reconnecting with the world again. I'm not saying this happened over night -- afterall, it has been nine years for us. I'm just saying it can happen.

Poetry exercise for you to try:

Try one or all of the following: Share some of your writing with someone. Send it in to the Loss Journal here at KotaPress. Share it with a friend by reading it outloud. Do a search for organizations that offer support for whatever trauma you experienced. See if they publish a newsletter. Send them your writing and ask if they will publish it. If you have written poetry, do a search for poetry ezines and submit your works to them. See if you connect with other poets thru the work. If you get turned down or shut out the first time you try to share, try again. Keep trying to reconnect on some level. Eventually, you will come across someone who will "get it" and that will be worth the effort.

About The Author
Kara L.C. Jones is a graduate of Carnegie Mellon University where she honed her poetic craft under the mentorship of Jim Daniels. Her poetic and non-fiction works have been included in publications such as New Works Review, PoetsWest, Real Henna, Shared Heart Foundation's "Meant To Be", LightHearts Publication's "Soul Trek", MISSing Angels Newsletter, American Tanka, Mother Tongue Ink's We'Moon, Honored Babies, Cup of Comfort series, and more. Because she refused to give her grief writing over to the control of outside editors and publishers after the death of her son, she and her husband Hawk founded KotaPress in 1999 as a creative outlet for their expressive artworks. She has been facilitating online and in-person workshops for over 10 year, including sessions offered at the International MISS Conferences, WA State Poets Association Burning Word festivals, and Course Bridge.

Dreaded Mothers & Fathers Days

by kara lc jones + nancy grayson

"Motherhood is an eternal place within your heart...a sacred place that belongs to you. Deep within the very essence of your existence, you are all mothers, whether you have living children or not-- you're still mothers-- beautiful and loving mothers. And while you may not be able to care for your child/children on earth, that sacred place of motherhood remains within you. Remember always that the love of a mother is stronger than any other force in the universe. The love of a mother transcends death."
~Dr. Joanne Caccitore, Founder of the MISS Foundation

The same goes for the dads who must endure Fathers Day the next month, too! These dreaded "Hallmark Holidays" that happen each Spring can be so hard on bereaved parents. Those who have no other living children are likely to be forgotten all together. Those who have surviving or subsequently born, living children, will most likely be recognized for the part of their parenthood that is seen, thereby fracturing their experience of these "celebrations."

The best you can do on these days -- heck, on any day of the year -- is to be gentle with yourself. Know that it is okay to do something or do nothing. Know that you can change your mind half way through the day. Know that you can make this a "self-care" opportunity instead of a disasterous "must do" obligation.

When Julia Ward Howe wrote the first Mothers Day Manifesto, it was with the goal of gathering bereaved mothers whose sons had died in the Civil War to protest for peace. Hallmark did not start this holiday. They do not own it. They are only part of it. And Julia Ward Howe's part of it is much more in keeping with the true sense of parenthood, of how we carry our children's lives and deaths with us in everything we do.

If nothing else, please know that you aren't alone on the dreaded days. Many other bereaved parents are out here hangin' on, too. And Nancy Grayson was kind enough to give us the following list of ideas! Maybe one of these will spark for you, offer you an idea for how to do what is best for your on these difficult days:

What to do on Mother's day...Ideas from Nancy Grayson

• Plan and do something for Mother's day - A special meal or activity
• Buy yourself a Mother's day card 'from your MISSing child' and write a note, seal it and save it.
• Plant flowers or a rose bush in your yard / garden,
• Proudly wear a corsage (Wal-Mart & Albertson's both have lovely orchids corsages) to church, dinner out or anywhere.
• Visit your child's grave site, or another calming place.
• Light a candle for you and your child.
• Mark this day with a keepsake; an uplifting book, jewelry, or a cozy blanket.
• Have a plan B to plan A - just in case it's too much this year. Anticipation of the 'day' seems to be harder than the actual day, allow for that possibility.
• It's OK to sit out activities and just have a good cry.
• Buy extra soft tissue and take good care.
  

About the Authors
Kara is mom to Dakota and Nancy is mom to Joel.

Humor on the Darkest Days

Humor on the Darkest Days
from KotaPress

What can I say? It started off innocently enough. In one of our groups, there were a bunch of us having a string of ... of ... bad luck? bad days? Well, I don't know what. But the drama on top of drama was bordering on absurd for all of us as we each rolled our eyes and asked, "WHY?!" And in the middle of the tension, one of our dry humor members posted this:

Grief is like a bad burrito - it just keeps coming back up at you.

And then it spawned an outpouring of the following:

grief is like a big mean dog. it bites.

grief is like a vacuum cleaner. it sucks.

grief is like a hair dryer. it blows.

And, finally, a very personal reflection:

Grief is like my sister in law. It won't go away.

Well, like I said, what can I say? Grief isn't funny. It sucks. And any dramas, big or small, that come after a major grief or loss, well, they just compound everything and finally it just seems unreal. And somewhere in there, every once in awhile, there breaks open a small sliver, a tiny crack, of dark humor. And there you have it.

About the Authors
We'll never reveal our identities! :)

When Unsuicidal Turns to Suicidal

When Unsuicidal Turns Suicidal
by Kara L.C. Jones

Unsuicidal adj. 1. the feeling of wanting to die so you can be with your child but not actually wanting to take action to commit suicide. 2. the feeling you have when the doctor says "are you having suicidal thoughts?" and you know if you tell him you just want to be with your child, he'll commit you for being suicidal even though that really isn't the point. 3. the way you feel when someone tells you your child is "in a better place now" and you're thinking "well it sucks here so I wish I was with my child." 4. the feeling of being undead. -unsuicide n.

-This definition is excerpted from The Dictionary of Loss, published by KotaPress

The very idea of someone being "unsuicidal" seems to terribly upset people, but I think it is a very real phenomenon with bereaved parents. You simply have moments when you just want to be with your kid. You don't necessarily want to die yourself. You aren't planning how to jump and get it over with for yourself. But you are just having the most loooooooooonging moment of aching pain you can imagine when you just want one more moment with your child. I call this moment (and it repeats itself often as parents live life-after-death-of-a-child), "unsuicidal."

But if you think the reality of the "unsuicial" moments are upsetting, then just think how people are when bereaved parents turn to actually planning to commit suicide. I think people freak out for several reasons: 1) they don't want to see yet another person they love, dead; 2) they are frustrated with helpless feelings of having been unable to help the parent enough to stop the suicidal thoughts from coming; 3) they don't know what to do about it.

And the suicidal person may end up feeling even more isolated than they did from the events that led up to that moment. It is so hard to know all that adds up to the suicidal moments. Is it just the grief monster, the bereavement? Is it body chemistry? Is there some support system missing? Is the person so far into depression disorder that they can't even want help anymore?

When we are in the middle of it -- as the suicidal person or as someone who cares about them -- it is too muddy to figure out all by ourselves. We need support and help. And that is okay. Even if you are a bereaved parent who feels you have asked for help and no one is giving it, I encourage you to try again before doing anything else. You may need to reach outside the people in your circle of family and friends -- to a therapist, a crisis line, a support group, something -- before you will find a reflection that is helpful to you. And that is okay.

If you or someone you love is considering suicide, please reach out. Please look at the following resources and try asking for help again.

Call 1-800-SUICIDE (1-800-784-2433)

http://hopeline.com/

http://www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org/

http://mentalhealth.samhsa.gov/suicideprevention/concerned.asp

If you feel you are in a crisis situation or need a mental health referral in the Seattle/King County area of Washington State, please utilize the following:

Crisis Clinic for King County, Washington State
206-461-3222 or their site at http://www.crisisclinic.org/

About the Author

Kara is the editor and co-founder of KotaPress and the artist behind the 1,000 Faces of Mother Henna project.

Thinking about Dakota today...

for Kota...b. & d. 3/11/99
xoxoxo's from your mom...

MISS Conference 2008

You are invited to join us at the MISS Conference 2008:
Body, Mind, & Soul
Trauma & Mourning After a Child's Death

Please visit our retreat/conference website:

For the downloadable brochure
http://www.missfoundation.org/conference/2008ConfBrochure.pdf

For the main site
http://www.missfoundation.org/conference/

Please register early.
Some scholarships are available.
These conferences are truly transformational. Please consider joining us there.

Poems from KISS Camp at MISS Conference...

These two poems were posted on the exhibit wall for KISS, Kids In Sympathy & Support, camp at the MISS Foundation Conference in 2006. I was overcome by reading them. If you are a child who is missing someone you love or if you are the parent of a grieving child, you might want to check out KISS Camp 2008 and provide this safe and sacred space for this kind of expression. Read about KISS at: www.missfoundation.org/conference/kids2008.php

Poem1
I am a sister who lost her brother
I wonder if he still remembers me
I hear his voice in my dreams
I see him in my dreams
I want to see him again someday
I am a sad, lonely person without him



I pretend he’s on a long vacation
I feel happy when I see him in my dreams
I touch his headstone everytime I see his grave
I cry when I miss him
I am a sister who misses her brother



I understand I will not see him for awhile
I say I would give my life to see him again
I dream of him walking through the back door, smiling, and laughing
I try to touch him in my dreams
I hope we meet someday
I am a sister who lost her beloved brother



------------------------------------------------


Poem 2
I am a niece who misses her uncle
I wonder if he is happy where he is
I hear his guitar playing in my mind
I see him in pictures
I want him to be alive
I am a niece who misses her uncle



I pretend he didn’t die a horrible death
I feel weak when I hear his name
I touch his yellow guitar
I cry when I think about him
I am a neice who misses her uncle



I understand he is in peace
I say I’m not sad that he died, but I am
I dream he will be here with me and my family
I try to hold back the tears
I hope people will stop killing each other
I am a niece who misses her uncle

Poems by Robert Miskimon

pull up the flowers
by Robert Miskimon

pull up the flowers that wept at your funeral
put them in your hair and dance in the moonlight
over the graves of those who died in the late season
of their lives, sated with the world and themselves

trip lightly over the fence and into the playground
when the swings are silent and no children are playing
dance there all night alone in this dark, moonlight
will shimmer in your golden hair and delight

whatever god created you for whatever purpose,
took you away in sunlight and laid in darkness
forever your young girl’s body, full of light
pull up the flowers and dance in the moonlight

***

Where Beautiful Children Go
by Robert Miskimon

What of the death of beautiful children, when their smiles
And bright eyes will not stop haunting our sleep?

What of the neatly-circumscribed arguments of theologians,
Or the prattlings of professional pain killers?

After one has gotten on with one’s life, met the crisis,
Chanted the prayers and numbed the brain to rest,

Where do beautiful children sometimes go, suddenly
In the heat of a summer day when laughter rings out?

Where to store memories of baby talcum, with its sweet
Smell of innocence, or the sound of giggles in the treetops?

What balm for everything from Mickey Mouse to Malibu?

How do beautiful children enter this life and leave without a trace,
Like the wind blowing barren branches on winter’s apricot tree?

About the Author
Robert Miskimon is a novelist, poet, journalist and jazzoid who lives on Vashon Island, Washington which he believes may be the only place on earth immune to global warming.

Broken Promises by Anna Kennedy

Broken Promises
by Anna Kennedy

for Jared Michael 8-6-97 to 9-19-97

Your birth
Was a promise
A sweet promise
Of years to come

Your life
Was wishes
Come true
Realized dreams

Your death
All too soon
Left me with
Remembrances unmade

My lesson
Promises
Easily made
Easily broken


About the Author
Just Anna ... Jared's mom

Poem by Sonny Walden

Knowing
by Sonny Walden


He was her good luck charm
her baby – the youngest,
the beauty, the joy, from a
troubled marriage.



She carries with her all these years
his picture encased in
a plastic medallion with his drawing
on the backside – her lucky
charm since his childhood – her Joy -
the good-hearted one.



Through all the pain and sickness of
her cancer and the debilitating
chemo, she could always say – “at least my children are well,
they are good, life is good, I
have not known life’s worst.”



Now she knows.

At twenty-two he is dead – her
Joy – gone.



There is nothing to do but cry with her.
Nothing can be said – there is no comfort can be given.
The good-hearted one has signed
his donor card – and now she must consent to the carving
up of her baby – “what he would have wanted” is too painful
to bear – “they will take the bones
from his arms and legs, he was
already dead, they can’t use the organs,
only the corneas and the bones.” –
for those with her disease.



Why couldn’t He take me?” she cries. “Why?”
And later alone I cry her question
with anger and curses –
nowhere to turn but your brutal grace.



“Who darkens counsel by words without knowledge.”



About the Author
This piece was written when serving as a minister at White Bluff UMC in Savannah, GA. Its genesis was a pastoral call with a mother who has just received notice that her child had been killed in an automobile accident.

C. G. (Sonny) Walden, III is an active conductor, teacher, singer and award winning composer. His arrangement of “God of Grace” was named Best Arrangement of 1996 by the Composer’s Guild. He has also won the Texas Music Educators Association Composition Prize, The Arnold Salop Memorial Composition Prize and the Texas Choral Directors composition contest. His graduate work in composition was done while on Fellowship at the University of North Texas and his teachers included Martin Mailman, Larry Austin and Merrill Ellis. He has been a member of the Robert Shaw Festival Chorus at Carnegie Hall and has been a frequent tenor soloist with the Savannah Symphony. He taught composition at Georgia Southern University and presently serves as an ordained Minister of Music at Dunwoody United Methodist Church. Choirs under Mr. Walden’s direction have appeared at Georgia ACDA and on Georgia Public Radio as well as many regional, national and international church events. His music is published by Ludwig Publishing, Abingdon Press and Hoyt Editions and is frequently performed in universities, churches, concert halls and schools throughout the United States. Reviews of his compositions have called them “profound and sensitive” “modern-but-accessible” and “accessible but not common.” When not composing, teaching, conducting or singing, he can usually be found fishing.

Poem by Tendai Mwanaka

ODE TO GRIEF
by Tendai Mwanaka

There is no space under the sky
No universe can scour grief
Time has stopped and frozen
You cannot find a street on it
No island, no continent
There is no wider door
Which opens this world of silence
There is no tremor, no earthquake
And the ocean does not empty,
Swallows and bleeds-
The sands on its beaches.

Poem by Richard Lighthouse

step into this poem
by Richard Lighthouse

white spaces on this page
will hold you. see if you can fit.
hold onto this letter and
ease yourself down.

place one foot in the margin,
this phrase will move you closer.
brace your body between
ink and paper. gently now.

it can be exhilarating
once you get in. lean back against
the stanza. make yourself
comfortable.

nestle among the words,
where it feels safe,
where words and love are reborn.
step into
this poem.


About the Author
Richard Lighthouse is a contemporary writer and poet. He holds an M.S. from Stanford University. His work has been published in: The Penwood Review, West Hills Review, Mudfish, and many others worldwide.

Poem by Linda O’Connell

A DAISY A DAY
by Linda O’Connell

Snow white petals
Innocent
as the child who planted the seed
From which the flower grew.

When the bud sprang forth from the dark dank earth
Jill announced its arrival
With the same lusty squeal she released
The January morning she arrived.

Everyday she observed the tiny daisy.
It grew stronger, taller,
Graced with natural beauty.
Just like her…
Plucked from the earth
While in full bloom.

Struck by a car
At the age of seven.
For eight hours
She withered,
Then died.

Dainty daisy in a crystal vase ~
yellow center bright as the sunshine
she brought into our lives.
White petals
Pure as our little angel.
The stem
As sturdy as our faith.

A daisy a day,
everyday
until we meet again.


About the Author
Linda O’Connell is a published multi-genre writer with essays, stories, articles and poetry published in inspirational anthologies, (several Chicken Soup books and others) educational, literary and mainstream magazines, books and newspapers. This piece was written many years ago after her niece Jill died.

Grandpa's Remedies by Thomas Reynolds

Grandpa’s Remedies
by Thomas Reynolds

For a cut on bare feet,
It was a dash of turpentine.

A sour stomach warranted
A snip of ginger on the tongue.

For midnight cough an onion poultice
Rubbed on the chest.

A touch of the gout,
The absence of fatback and hog jaw
For two straight days.

Depression in late afternoon
When the sun sank into the Ozark hills
Received a splash of spring water on the face.

Maybe a walk to the end of the dirt road
Rutted by sawmill trucks.

Moving a hand across new cut wood,
Feeling the dust between two fingers.

Sensing that trace of iron at the back of the tongue
And repeatedly spitting into a crack in the earth.

For the death of a young son
No salve or poultice could touch,
Staring into space
And silence.

Walking to the door
And gazing into timber
As if someone was calling.

Trying to recognize his hand
Atop the kitchen table.

Nothingness.

And always that taste of iron.


About the Author
Thomas Reynolds, teacher at Johnson County Community College in Overland Park, Kansas, has published poem in various print and online journals, including New Delta Review, Alabama Literary Review, Aethlon-The Journal of Sport Literature, The MacGuffin, Midwest Poetry Review, and The Pedestal Magazine.

Poem by Cheryl Lambrecht

A Child's Birthday Party
by Cheryl Lambrecht

A child's birthday party
A phone rings
A mother cries
No cake eaten
They broke every bone in your body
On the way to buy those gifts
For those you held in your heart
Through that blinding blizzard
You held them in your soul
A broken body
A love unbroken
Crying at your funeral
I was too young to stand at your grave

About the Author
Other works can be seen in children, churches and daddies, Bethany News and Richfield Reflections.

Poems by Betty Winslow

Pain
by Betty Winslow

I fell today
while jumping off a chair,
leg crumpling, giving way beneath me.
It ended with me sitting
on the floor, clutching my ankle.
It hurt!
Fiercely,
horribly...
I cried out,
almost reveling in the pain.
It gave me something else to cry about.
For a moment,
the pain outside
overwhelmed
the pain inside
and I forgot to remember
you were gone.
For a moment,
grief made pain
seem like a friend.


My Daughter, the Comet
by Betty Winslow

She flew through life
and lit up every space
with sparkling smile
and dance of joy and grace;
then left us to go
light another place
and dance her dance
before God's very face.


About The Author
Betty Winslow, a born-and-bred Southerner, moved to Ohio as an adult, where she and husband Mark have survived a thirty-three-year marriage, two extended periods of unemployment, raising four teenagers, losing an adult child, and becoming grandparents. Despite all that, they still love God, their kids, and each other, and do their best to enjoy every day God gives them. Betty loves to write, read, crochet, sing, and talk. (Mark would' ve put talking first...)

Mrs. Duck eBook available for free online...

The new extended version of Mrs. Duck and The Woman is available only as an eBook online at KotaPress. It hosts the original story and photo art, along with a series of articles about grief after the death of a child. In English language only (so far).

To download, please visit:

kotapress.com/section_home/mrsDuck_eBook.htm

Miracles...k-

Jizo Remembrance Ceremonies

What: Remembrance for Children Who Have Died
When: These ceremonies happen several times each year -- please see their calendar!
Where: At Great Vow Zen Monastery, Clatskanie, Oregon

Event is open and free to anyone who has lost an infant or child of any age.

Jizo statues shown here are designed by Jan Chozen Bays, Roshi, and handmade at the Great Vow Zen Monastery

The loss of an infant or child often opens a well of profound grief. No matter how the child dies, suddenly or slowly, whether through illness, sudden infant death, accident, miscarriage, abortion or suicide, our sorrow is deep and may be long-lasting.

The purpose of the ceremony is to help families and friends with their grief by honoring their lost children and to allowing them to leave a remembrance in our Jizo Bodhisattva garden. In traditional Buddhist belief, a bodhisattva is an enlightened being who has forsaken entry into nirvana until all beings are saved. Jizo Bodhisattva is regarded as a caretaker of women, travelers, and children who have died. The ceremony is very simple, and done in silence. While it is a Buddhist ceremony, it is open to anyone of any religious affiliation.

We will spend time making a personal memorial for our child, by writing a message, making a simple toy or necklace, or sewing a small garment. There will be materials available, but you may wish to bring scissors, thread and needle and a small piece of red cloth. Many people also bring a picture of the child or other personal token of remembrance.

Great Vow Zen Monastery is located at 79640 Quincy-Mayger Rd, Clatskanie, Oregon (about a 75-minute drive from Portland), on 20 very peaceful acres overlooking the Clatskanie valley with the Columbia River and Washington in the distance.)

For more information, directions, and to let us know you will be attending, please contact us at info@zendust.org or (866) 446-5416. See more information at:

http://www.zendust.org/jizoceremony.htm

Ceremonies led by Jan Chozen Bays, MD
Spiritual Director of the Monastery