Faces of Grief

Faces of Grief, a set on Flickr.

Today Kate's Club family, friends, staff and board members gathered at the Georgia State Capitol for recognition of Grief Awareness Day.

In honor of this milestone, the blog is officially launching our 'Faces of Grief'. This will be a permanent feature on the blog, located in the right tool bar.

We encourage others to send in their images and letters as part of Kate's Club ongoing efforts to create a world where it is okay to grieve.

Answering the Tough Questions...

Motherhood has brought on a whole new component to my grief journey as I am faced with the loss and grief my children experience as a result of my parents being gone.

My oldest daughter, almost 6, is very insightful and emotional, and at around the age of 4 started making the connection between mommy's parents being in heaven and the fact that mommy will someday die too. When you're driving down the road with your 4 year old and 1 year old singing music class songs, the last question you expect is..."mommy, since your mom and dad died before you were a mommy, does that mean that you will die before I am a mommy?"

Wow! Talk about the question that felt like somebody just punched me in the stomach. My eyes immediately welled up with tears and my heart burned for what my daughter was realizing. I remember being 5, 6, 7 years old after my mom died and waking up in the middle of the night petrified that my dad, my sister or I was going to die too. The last thing I want for my children is for them to experience that same fear and here I was, facing that reality.

And then the tough part comes...reassuring my 4 year old that mommy will be with her for a very long time, even though I know there is no certainty to that statement. That initial question was the benchmark for many conversations between my daughter and I about why Grandma Tina and Grandpa Larry died, how it is not fair that she never got to meet them, and her needing reassurance that mommy and daddy aren't going anywhere.

These are the questions that wake up the most unexpected emotions and remind me how important it is to remember that grief is a journey and not a task with an end date because at the age of 4, I was a grieving child and at the age of 36, I am a greiving mother trying to help my children understand the complex emotions of their own grief.

~Cindy Schoell

My Best Friend Always Has My Back

It is often stated that "the grief path is often lonely and frightening." Not on Saturday at Kate's Club. On Saturday, Kate's Club hosted programs and events on "Bring a Friend" day that brought together over 100 children, 40 volunteers, and a number of families. The ability to get friends and families involved helps all in the healing process.

The event was another leading up to Grief Awareness Day on Thursday, March 1st. Grief effects all of us in different manners and the day was an uplifting one as many shared their grief journeys and paid remembrance to their lost loved ones. During the day, there were many concurrent activities for the children including the Grieffiti Wall, Faces of Grief, and the Kindness tree.

"Having my friend here is so awesome." said one 12 year old, "He's my best friend and always has my back. Not having my Dad is a big part of what I have to deal with every day."

When his friend was asked why he decided to come to Kate's Club, he simply stated "I just want to be the best friend possible."

While the topic of loss and grief can be a difficult one, the day was uplifting. The ability to openly talk about the grief experience and do activities to remember the lost loved one proves to be highly therapeutic.

The activities were not only limited to the children. Parents who have either lost children or a loved one participated in an emotionally charged "Park Bench" session. They openly discussed the impacts of grief as they continue on with the parenting process. The session was led by a grief therapist who herself had experienced the loss of a family member due to suicide.

"When I start talking about my feelings of being overwhelmed by it all and the powerful emotions I feel, I look around the room and see heads nodding in agreement. It's uplifting to know the support I have to get through it all."

After the session, the room stayed full as parents continued the dialogue with one another and created relationships to support one another.

One friend of a volunteer was introduced to Kate's Club for the first time on Saturday. At the end of the day, we asked her to share her experience. "The kids receive a tremendous amount of support from the efforts of Kate's Club. It's amazing to see how much strength they provide for each other."

When thinking about grief and loss, it is important to remember that you are not alone. For many children and families, Saturday was a strong reminder of that message.

How to keep a loved one alive in your heart....

My mother died after a 4 year battle with breast cancer when I was 4 years old, so I have some memories of her, but not many that I would call my own. A lot of what I know about my mother came from the stories my father, maternal grandparents, maternal aunt, and family friends told me about her.

One of my favorite things to do as a child was to sit at my Grandma Pajakowski's kitchen table, planning cards and listening to her tell my sister and I stories about our mother from when she was a little girl.

My dad also kept my mother very much a part of our lives by telling us stories about their life together before and after their entry into parenthood. We often talked about how my mom was watching over us and talking to her in heaven become a regular part of my life.

While I only spent 4 years with my mother, I feel like she has always been a part of my life. At 27, my father died from pancreatic cancer, and since then, I have carried on the tradition of keeping him alive in my hear and in the lives of my children and nephews. It is part of our daily lives to tell stories about Grandpa Larry and Grandma Tina, to talk about how they are watching over us, and to let my daughters know how proud Grandpa Larry and Grandma Tina would be to be their grandparents.

And I still make it a common practice to talk to my parents. If you could be a fly on the wall when I am alone, you might hear such things as, "I know you are laughing up there at how stubborn Karson is and how much Layne pushes her boundaries!" or "Man I miss you today." For me, keeping my parents a part of my life is part of how I have been able to accept the fact that they are not here on earth with me. It helps me to know that they are still with me in my heart.

~ Cindy Schoell

Remembering my dad, Steve Romig

Last year in this very space, I wrote about my dad.

Steve Romig was a really good man. On Feb. 24, 1996, he took his own life.

The story I told last year was about the things I learned from his death.

Things about him. Things about me.

Volumes of information on mental illness, specifically anxiety and depression.

His disease. My disease.

This year, I want to share more about my dad from when he was alive.

So, I’ve been thinking about the things I learned from him while he was alive, and I boiled them down to three things that he taught me that still have a consistent presence in my life.

So, in reverse order of importance:

No. 3: Changing a tire

I had to write a “how to” report at some point in my life and I did it on changing a flat tire, so I enlisted my dad’s help in this venture.

I can still remember standing in the driveway as he showed me how to lift up our 1987 Honda Accord with a jack, unscrew the lug nuts, toss the busted-up tire aside and slide on the spare before screwing the lugnuts back on securely.

Sounds easy, right? If you were taught correctly, it can be. Fortunately (Unfortunately?), I’ve gotten really good at it because I’m pretty much a master of creating flat tires. So, it helps that I can rip one off and get it changed within five minutes or so.

Every time I do, I remember him teaching me that day, and I can hear him scolding me for busting another one. Or maybe the voice I’m hearing is now my wife, Kacy.

No. 2: Driving a stick shift

This is at No. 2 because my No. 1 item is more sentimental, but the truth of the matter is there’s nothing I learned from my dad that I use more than this skill.

Don’t get me wrong, I have no prejudice toward automatic transmissions. I see their value. I won’t refuse to drive one. Kacy’s Nissan Xterra is an automatic.

But I LOVE driving a stick shift. Every car I’ve driven as my own has been a stick, and that will never change. It’s really something about me that’s ingrained in my personality.

But it wasn’t always that way.

When my dad began his attempts to teach me to drive a stick, it didn't go well.

Lots of long Sunday afternoons. Lots of frustration on my part. More on his.

I did not want to learn how to drive a stick. I was a silly teenager who was more interested in being stubborn than gaining a really valuable – and fun – skill.

But, finally, it stuck. One day we were at church and my friend Jamie Pruitt was driving a new Jeep – with a stick – and I decided right there I needed to do it and that afternoon in an empty parking lot, I nailed it.

As I inherited his mental illness, I also inherited my dad’s competitiveness.

Which bring us to No. 1.

No. 1: Shooting pool

For many years, I’ve had my butt kicked on the pool table by good friends.

Chris McDonald. Chris Williams. Dan Hightower. Jason Allman.

Up and down the table. Butt kicked.

But no one kicked my butt like the man who taught me how to play.

Steve Romig didn’t let you win. Whether you were a friend on the tennis court or his oldest son at the pool table. You had to earn it.

Sometimes I did. Mostly I didn’t.

My favorite memory of shooting pool with my dad was on Jan. 17, 1991. We were at Opening Break on Assembly Street in my hometown of Columbia, SC. The plan was to eat dinner while shooting pool and then go see our South Carolina Gamecocks take on Virginia Tech in basketball.

While we were shooting pool and eating, the room became silent as the news came across the televisions that Operation Desert Storm had begun. It was a somber moment for an almost 13-year-old, who had no concept of war.

When my dad died, he left separate letters for me, my mom and my brother.

One of the last things he said was that he wished he had been able to get us a pool table for our house. His dream was realized 21 years later.

This Jan. 20, I had a pool table installed in my home, and the next day my brother, Bryan, came to Atlanta from Greenville to shoot the first game on it with me.

Dad was missed.

If you can, I be honored if you'd support Kate's Club in memory of my dad with a contribution of $16 (for the 16th anniversary), $47 (for his age when he died) or anything you can afford. I've set up a personal fundraising page in honor of dad that you can visit here: http://www.firstgiving.com/fundraiser/jeffromig/jeffromigsfundraisingpage.

Thoughts on grief on Ash Wednesday

Ash Wednesday marks the beginning of the 40-day period of prayer and fasting signifying the 40 days Jesus spent fasting in the desert before his public ministry.

It also kicks off Lent, a time where large portions of the Christian population give up something as a form of penitence from now until Easter Sunday.

But mostly, for these Christians, it's a meditation.

A meditation on loss.

A meditation on love.

A meditation on faith.

For these Christians, it's a form of Grief Awareness.

We take this time to think about the loss of Jesus and what that means to us and to the world, and we take this time to learn from his death.

What we choose to "give up" until Easter is supposed to be a daily reminder of our faith.

If you are giving up something for Lent, I wish you luck in your journey from now til Easter.

Where President's Day and Grief meet

Few families in American history have been in the position to grieve publicly like the Kennedys.

Additionally, few American families have been so grieved over as the Kennedys.

From President Kennedy to his brother Bobby to his son John Jr., members of this iconic family have lost their lives in shocking ways that sent ripples through our country that are still present today.

Here's a great story about the Kennedy family and its grief following President Kennedy's assassination on Nov. 22, 1963: http://www.time.com/time/politics/article/0,8599,1919303,00.html.

And here's another great story told through letters from grieving Americans following the assassination: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/09/us/09kennedy.html.

The Kindness Tree

Kate’s Club presented to 24 3rd, 4th and 5th grade classrooms at Norton Elementary School in Gwinnett County this week. That’s 600 students who participated in the KC Connects Outreach program in one week! We are scheduled to present to 36 more elementary school classrooms during the next four weeks.

These interactive presentations include a project called the “Kindness Tree.” The project begins as a poster with a hand-drawn tree (thank you, star Kate’s Club volunteer, Susan!). The curriculum focuses on three important aspects of grief and loss, and each aspect has a corresponding activity related to the tree.

1. Community: Students define what a “community” means. Then ask questions such as, “How does a community learn together and support one another?” and “How is a classroom defined as a community?” Students are asked to decide on a name for their classroom community, and a heart with the community’s name written on it is placed on the tree.

2. Grief: What is grief? Responses can range from the sad feeling we have when we miss someone or something that we wish we could see or see more often. The corresponding emotions we feel along with that sad feeling are discussed. Students are asked to think of who or what they are grieving. Students are encouraged to share their story and write the name of someone or something they miss on a leaf. Then, each student comes forward to tape a leaf on the tree.

3. Kindness: Students provide answers about how to be a good friend to someone who is sad. A discussion about they want and need when they are sad is facilitated. That discussion leads to a brainstorming activity about how the students can be kind and caring members of their classroom community. Students are asked to write one way in which they can be kind to someone who is sad on a hand-shaped piece of paper. Then, each student comes forward one more time and place their ‘pledge’ around the base of tree.

After the tree is filled, students then tell a bit about what they wrote, either on the leaf or the hand, and the presentation closes by noticing that the sadness of the stories on the leaves is being held up by the caring of the kindness of the hands on and around the tree.

Children of Celebrities and Their Handling of Grief

Grief is a struggle unique to the individual regardless of the loss. Given the recent death of singer Whitney Houston, Yahoo.com provides and article illustrating some of the challenges children of celebrities face in the wake of a loss. The piece talks about how some are able to grow up largely away from the public eye while others are constantly reminded of their loss through a bombardment of media coverage.

While the path of a grief journey is as unique as the individual, some aspects such as sharing the stories of your loved one, your loss, and how you are coping are all important to the healing process.

You're still here? Of course you are!

Whatever the holiday is, if you are grieving it can be tough. How did it go for you on Valentine's Day? You know... the day of love, flowers, chocolates, throws of affection, hearts aplenty with sweet messages inside expressing one's care and love for another. Believe me; I get it if you wanted to not see the world. The good news is that it's only one day.

But, let's look at it in another way. Were you good to yourself in the face of something tough and truly, truly unique to you? Did you embrace where you are on your grief journey and rise with excitement at how far you have come? Did you use Valentine's Day as a period of remembrance for your loved one and renewed your vows of how to proactively and positively handle your grief?

Surely the individual loss you've experienced is deep. It's how you treat yourself on a day like Valentine's Day that can make a difference in how the days to come will be.

You're still here and you knew you would be. We all did too because we're also with you as part of a larger community.

As always, we encourage you to share your story. Onward!

Owning Our Grief

For those who are unfamiliar with TED Talks, I would like to suggest that you spend some time on their website. They are an amazing source for inspirational videos on a range of topics. Their mantra is “Ideas worth Spreading”. Today I want to spread one of their ideas about Owning Our Grief.

Alana Sheera does an excellent job framing grief and talking about the way we begin to experience grief. It is not necessarily with death. Alana makes several excellent points throughout her talk, but the ones that really resonated with me were:

• Grief is universal.
• Grief isn’t just crying.
• It is something we will all experience.

What did Alana say that you connected with?

Faces of Grief

As we prepare for Grief Awareness Day 2012, we are launching the ‘Faces of Grief’ photo stream on our blog. ‘Faces of Grief’ will allow individuals to put a face to grief as they share their story. On this blog we will be collecting the images and sharing them as part of a Flickr stream that will appear on the home page.  We hope to have many stories posted well in advance of March 1.

Anna Ruth Williams - Her Grief Story

How can you participate? Write your story in no more than 75-100 words on a light color piece of paper with a sharpie-like marker so that it is easy to read. Once you’ve written your story, have a photo taken of yourself holding the page. Email the photo to griefawarenessday@gmail.com and it will be added to the photo stream.

Please share this request with colleagues, clients, family and friends who you think would feel compelled to share their story.

Thank you for helping us create a world where it is okay to grieve!

The Long Goodbye

On September 7, 2010, my grandmother, known by her grandchildren as Mamaw, quietly passed away. The strangest part about her actual death for me was that person I had known and loved my entire life had really died a couple of years before.

My Mamaw with my two youngest cousins, Ally + Kate

That is the cruelty of diseases like Alzheimer’s + Dementia, they rob the personality, memories and spirit of a person long before they take their body. For several years our family didn’t realize she was suffering from the disease. In the last years of my Papaw’s life he lovingly cared for her and kept us from seeing the early signs.

Mamaw + Papaw: Just 2 Kids in Love

Once he had passed, my dad and his brothers quickly realized living by herself was not an option. Initially she lived in a senior living community near my parents. This is the last place where she was herself. She knew us, welcomed us into her apartment. It is here that I told her I was engaged.

My Wedding Day

By the time my wedding arrived 10 months later she didn't know why she was dressed up at a church and wasn't sure who we all were. This is when the grief began for me. Each time I came home for a visit we would go see Mamaw. But for me she wasn't there. Her spunk, her sense of humor were gone. It was heartbreaking.

My brother + I celebrating Mamaw's 84th Birthday



It was also incredible to see my dad, mom, uncles and aunts care for her. Their love for her had never been more evident. She would have hated to see them fussing over her, but she also would have been so proud. Now that she is gone I wear a ring my Papaw gave her every day.  It reminds of the grandmother I really knew.

For more information about Alzheimer's visit the Alzheimer's Association website. For information about being a caregiver for someone with Alzheimer's, check out this article.

The Unexpected Moments of Grief

While the inital experiences of sadness and anger after the death of a loved one are often difficult to cope with, it is the unexpected moments that have always thrown me off.

These are the moments when a scene in a movie or a generic conversation causes me to feel angry or sad because of an experience I am missing out on with my parents. Or waking up on any random day, with no particular significance, and missing my dad so terribly that I am on the verge of tears all day.

These are the moments when it is so important for me to remember to take care of myself and do what I need to do to cope because 1, 2 or 10 years later, the at-the-ready support network usually isn't present like it was at the time of the loss.

It's not to say that my friends and family members wouldn't be there if I asked, but since it's been almost 9 years since my dad died, and 30+ since my mom died, I doubt anyone has "supporting Cindy through her time of loss" on their priority list.

So, in these unexpected moments of grief I turn to the things that I can do for myself...look through a photo album, let myself cry until I stop without any expectation of when I should stop, listen to music, cook a dinner that was a family favorite growing up, snuggle with my daughters, dance with my daughters, ask my husband for an extra long hug without needing to explain why, or call my best friends who I know always have me as a priority and lean on them as needed.

Usually the moments don't last too long or interrupt my daily life too much, but they are always unexpected and always remind me that my parents remain a very large part of my life and my heart.

~Cindy Schoell

Sharing Memories with the Next Generation

My sister was smart. Mom said she wanted to be cremated and scattered on a dune in coastal North Carolina. We scattered most of her there and of course the sand dune is now part of the Atlantic Ocean. My sister arranged for a bit of the cremains to be buried in Alabama where Mom's family is from and install a very touching, memorial marker in remembrance.

On Christmas Eve day, we traveled over to Alabama to visit Mom's family both living and dead. My main mission for the trip was to engage my 8 year old niece in getting to know Mom, the grandmother she never knew, and Meme and Pop, my grandparents. How do you make a visit to the cemetery fun for an 8 year old?

I took some cues from my super smart friends at Kate's Club. I thought about our holiday traditions - what would be a fun tradition to bring to the cemetary? Food and photos came to mind. My sister came up with the food solution - CHOCOLATE! For Christmas, Pop always gave Meme a box of Russell Stover choclates - the kind with descriptions of each chocolate, so you can avoid that yucky rasperry one. For photos, I flipped through the first half of a large photo album and pulled the Mom, Meme, Pop photos I liked. My sister pulled photos from the second half of the album. We put the photos in a fancy velvet bag (very mysterious for an 8 year old).

At the cemetery, we found the markers for Mom, Meme and Pop and we ate chocolates and reminisced. My niece patiently pulled photos out of the bag, one at a time, and listened to the stories that ensued (she also laughed at the great 80's fashions - remember neon and tight rolled jeans? Wait, I think that's trendy again).

I won't lie, it was hard for me - even 10 years after Mom's death. But it was SO WORTH IT! I knew it was a success when I heard my niece telling a relative that we had fun eating chocolates and telling stories at the cemetery earlier that day. Mission accomplished!!!


(here's a photo of us visiting Mom, Meme and Pop at the cemetary - I'm in the sunglasses)

Cindy's Story: Part II - Grief is a Life Long Journey

Grief is a life long journey. This is a statement that I don't think people understand until they have experienced grief for themselves.

My life story has been defined as a grief journey almost since before I was born. My mother was diagnosed with breast cancer while she was pregnant with me and then lost her battle shortly after I turned 4 years old. I grew up knowing my mother through the most amazing father. My dad, Larry Barnes, kept my mother always a part of our lives. While the initial pain of losing my mother faded over time, the grief, anger and sadness associated with my mother not being around to participate in my growth milestones was always present.

It would be hard for me to describe the relationship that I had with my dad in words that would give it justice. He was truly my hero and a man of integretity and generousity. There was not a day of my life that went by that I was not told "I love you".

As an adult I talked to my dad almost every day on the phone and he was unusually the first person I wanted to call when I had news, good or bad. He was so proud the day my first nephew was born, 12/18/01, and was the most amazing "Grandpa Larry." I watched him with my nephew in excitement of the day he would get to spoil my children with love. He walked me down the aisle on 7/27/02 and was so happy because he loved my husband! He even sang at our wedding.

In March 2003, the word cancer again entered my world when my dad was diagnosed with Stage 4 pancreatic cancer. He put up a fight, but very quickly lost his battle on June 5, 2003. I feel blessed that my sister and I were able to put everything on hold and go home to Indiana to take care of him. The three of us, plus my then 18 month old nephew, spent 4 months together. That time was filled with the stress of caretaking, but also very wonderful moments. I had the chance to cry with my dad about the anger we both felt about the losses we were about to experience as it became evident that he was going to die. And again, not a day went by during that 4 month period where we all didn't say "I love you" to each other.

On June 4, 2003, I had to fly back to Atlanta to take my clinical compentancy exam for my doctoral program. I left my dad with a heavy heart, but knew that he wanted me to take the exam so that I would not fall behind in my goal to become a psychologist. I took the exam, flew home, and told my dad I passed. At this point, he was very sick, but I know he heard me.

That night, my sister and I stayed awake all night talking and listening to our dad breathe. He sounded so uncomfortable. Our hearts were breaking, but we knew we had to tell him it was ok to go. My sister whispered in his ear, "it's ok dad, we're going to be ok, you can go" and he took a last peaceful breath with my sister and I right beside him in the home we grew up in. A heart breaking moment that added to my grief journey.

The death of my mom defined my childhood and the death of my father, changed my adulthood. I miss him dearly, and even though it's been almost 9 years, I still have moments when something really good happens where I think for a moment, "I need to call dad."

Just as my dad kept my mom alive for my sister and I, I keep "Grandpa Larry and Grandma Tina" alive in my house for my girls. So my grief journey continues and with each new day and new milestone for me or my children, I miss my parents and mourn the loss of their physical presence. The grief isn't as intense as the inital loss, but it still has an impact.

~ Cindy Schoell