Tag: #grievingparents

Question

Question

by bbenton1064 ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

A few times, over the past weeks, I have had people approach me and ask the same question. “I want to buy your book for someone that has recently lost a child, I was wondering do you think it will make them sad?” This really made me stop and think for a moment before I answered them. To the best of my fifty four year old memory this was my response. “There is nothing in this entire world that can bring more sadness into your life than the loss of a child. Will my book make them sadder, probably, but it will also let them know they are not alone. It may help them understand there is no right or wrong way to grieve. It will hopefully show them that you can take the worst tragedy that could happen to a parent and somehow, someway turn it into a triumph. Turn their nightmare into hope for someone else.” My book is a year of blogs that tell about Lindsay’s accident, the week we spent in the hospital and how I have dealt with the grief that still enters my life everyday. I honestly do not know if it will make another parent that has lost a child sadder than they already are, I can only hope it will help.

Switching gears a little. It’s coming soon, the most loved, hated, bittersweet day of the year for a parent that has lost a child. The day that spreads joy to the world and decks the halls with boughs of holly. The day we celebrate the birth of Christ, the day we join together as a family and reminisce over the past year. This day that brings back smiles and tears. I thank God that I have the family I have, a family that gathers at my home and mentions Lindsay’s name. The worst thing for a parent is for a holiday, a birthday or any special day to pass and no one mention their child’s name. No parent ever wants to think their child has been forgotten. I see all the posts on social media of Christmas trees being put up and decorated so beautifully and I begin to dread putting ours up. It was Lindsay’s favorite thing to do this time of year. I ride down the street in our neighborhood and see all the yard decorations and it reminds me of a time when I loved doing the same. Now I have no desire to put out any yard decorations, it is an internal emotional tug of war that has happened for the past two years on what to do and what not to do. It all boils down to the fact I just cant do it, yet. I hope there comes a day when I am excited about decorating again because I know Lindsay is shaking the heavens stomping her feet screaming down, “Get that tree put up.”

 

A Beautiful Day

A Beautiful Day

by bbenton1064 ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

As usual, I got up today before the dawn and my day started off with some very unusual sights and sounds. You see, it has been raining here for what I believe to be the last fifteen days. It may have been more, but I truly lost count. But on this morning the sun had no barrier, there was no impediment, no stumbling block to keep it from it’s daily routine of bringing light into our little corner the world. You could see the rays as they began to slowly creep their way over the horizon. The beams of light began to make their way through the cracks of the blinds and immediately filled the room with light, and with that, there was hope for a beautiful day. As the sun continued its climb up the eastern sky you could hear the sounds of life from the many birds chirping in the back yard, a sound only heard over the past couple of weeks when there was a break in the dark and gloomy clouds. When the sun made it’s final push to clear the grasp of dawn and show itself in all it’s full warming and illuminated glory, I knew today was going to be a good day. 

In the life of a grieving parent, there are many days like today. You may go through days, weeks, months even years where it seems to be metaphorically raining everyday. You can wake up every morning where life’s gray and gloomy clouds are all you see on the horizon. You feel the sun is never going to shine in your life again, you are never going to feel that healing warmth, or have those illuminating rays fill your life. You make it through, day by day, wishing yesterday was your tomorrow so maybe, just maybe, you can work your way back to that day. You forget what it’s like to just sit and listen to the birds, or watch a sunset. Your world is filled with “what if’s” and “why’s”. You spend most of your time trying to figure out how to make your life normal again, when there is no normal, and the normal you create is so abnormal. You make it through the bad days hoping for just one good day. You try to change the lives of others by sharing your tragedy, in hopes of one day smiling again. We, as parents of children taken way to soon, have many bad days, but it’s that one morning, that one ray of sunshine, that single act of kindness, that one email, that one text, a simple pat on the back that makes it seem okay for that moment. For me, its when I wake up and think of Lindsay and the time we had. I think of Kelli, Jarrett and all the other many blessings I have in my life. I think of the love that covers this family from so many hearts. The prayers that come from near and far, and the lives that have been saved because a seventeen year old young lady had a dream. It is mornings like these I know, in my heart, it’s going to be a beautiful day.

The pain is still the same…

The pain is still the same…

by bbenton1064 ♥ 2 Comments

As I sit in the lanai of my home looking out over the water and watching the sunrise I am thinking of the past two days and the people that have crossed my path. It is amazing how some days you can randomly meet people that touch your life and remind you that there is a purpose to the life you are living. On Friday, I had the honor of meeting a woman, that just two weeks earlier, lost her son. We meet through a vendor at our monthly market. The vendor approached myself and Kelli and told us about this women’s loss. Once she pointed her out I was hesitant to approach her because I know what she was feeling, I know the feeling of parental grief and all the pain that comes with it. I know what it is like to be in the middle of a hundreds of people and feel so alone. I know that sometimes you just want to be left alone and you don’t want to talk about your loss. After Kelli went up to her and she began talking, I also walked up to her and just stood there and listened for a moment. I heard that she was out with two of her friends and it was the first time she had left her home. I heard the pain and sorrow in her voice, a sound I so vividly remember. I was introduced to this lady and she began to tell me about her son, thirty three years old, and I told her about Lindsay. They were both donors and through their selflessness, they both saved lives. She had tears in her eyes as her sons death was still very fresh in her heart. I gave her a big hug and told her, “I have been right where you are today Sweetie. No matter the age the pain is still the same. We have just meet but now we are connected for life.” I continued to tell her even though we had just met,  if she ever needed me or just wanted to talk all she had to do was reach out. She asked if I knew of a group that she could attend, a support group of some type that would help her get through this very early days of grief. I highly recommended the group Compassionate Friends. I told her how much this group had help Lindsay’s mom. The support, the fellowship and the comradery they give truly helped, and still helps, Kellie through each day. She asked her friends to please remember and help her follow up on going to a meeting. As we parted ways I gave her one more hug and whispered in her ear, “Ma’am, time will ease the pain, but the hurt will always remain. Remember the good, concentrate on the happy, and always, always say his name.” Now with tears in both of our eyes we said goodbye, for now.

On Saturday, as I was standing in our space at the market when a short, small framed smiling red head came walking up, it was Ms. Jeanne Connolly. Jeanne has been our “go to” person with Carolina Donor Services and has always been a huge supporter of the Lindsay M. Benton Foundation. She always brings a breath of fresh air anywhere she goes. Jeanne has asked me to speak at a various venues telling Lindsay’s story and the donor family side of organ donation. Little did she know what an effect it would have on my grief recovery. Only a few moments later Mrs. Jill Helm came walking through our doors and she did not come alone. You see Jill is the recipient of one of Lindsay’s kidneys, and carries a very special part of our heart with her everyday. What a wonderful day seeing Jeanne and Jill at the same time.

I so often think of my grandparents, Frank and Maylor Gore along with my other grandma, Ethel Benton. My grandparents had a total of ten children, six sons and four daughters. Before my grandparents left this world at the ages of 89, 86 and 100 they lost a total of 4 children and two grandchildren. My grandparents Frank and Maylor lost three sons and two grandchildren, my grandma Ethel Benton lost a son and also her husband. The youngest son lost was 16 and the oldest was 58. The youngest grand child was 10 and the oldest was 39. I try sometimes to put my self in my grandfathers shoes, the loss of multiple children is unfathomable to me. We lost one, and I don’t know if I would make it through another.  I remember as a young child sitting at my grandmother’s house and just watching her sit, rock and cry. I could not understand why she was so upset, why she was so distraught, why she would not go to the funeral. After we lost Lindsay I understood completely. The grief of losing a child is indescribable, and the pain that fills your heart is immeasurable.

Death does not discriminate, it does not check birth certificates or drivers licenses, it does not know age at all. It does not look at color or nationality, it does not care about religion or any other beliefs. Death does not, never has or never will, follow any schedule. By the time you finish reading this blog, in the United States alone, two people per second have died, 105 people per minute have left this world and 6,316 people per hour have left loved ones behind. I can assure, you no matter the cause, no matter the reason, they did not choose death, death chose them. I am asking that when you finish reading this blog don’t procrastinate, use one of the many ways we communicate these days and tell someone you love them, tell someone you miss them, tell someone you care.