Grief Article

Picking Up The Pieces
© A. Edrich
All materials copyrighted

Several years ago, our infant daughter died in a tragic accident. That day was the worst day of our entire lives. And yet, it taught us so much about the compassion of the human heart. From the moment that our daughter died, our family, our neighbors, our community, and our church joined forces to help us heal. To this day, I can honestly say that we would not have survived a day without the support and love that was shown to us, through all those volunteers.

For a month, I would refuse to get out of bed. I would not eat, or shower, or communicate with the outside world. I couldn’t even take care of my own children. For three months, my husband didn’t have the mentality it took to return to work. And for a year, we were running on pure fumes. But a series of events took place that first year, that has forever changed the lives of everyone around us. A series of events that would help us get back on our feet and work at building the family we always intended to have.

When Indiana died, we lost all hope and purpose in life. Everything we fought for, everything we stood for, and everything we ever wanted was gone. What was the purpose in living now? Yes, we still had children who needed and loved us, but our grief was so strong, that we could not see straight. All we saw was what we had lost, to a senseless death. But God took charge that day, as he sent angels unaware. I honestly believe some of God’s greatest angels are formed out of human compassion and kindness.

The neighbors came to watch our other children until my mother arrived. My mother, Diane, stayed with us for about three months, as she took care of the kids, the house and anything that pertained to daily living. My sister-in-law, Teri, came up for two weeks, as she put her life on hold as she made calls, and put together the funeral. Our Pastor came to our home, once a day, for the first few weeks, then once a week, for about a month. A Psychologist, from the church, came to our home three times a day, then once a day, then once a week, then slowly dwindled down to where we would meet with him in his office. Different bible study groups, as well as MOPS groups (an acronym for Mothers of Preschoolers) signed up to provide us with meals for an entire two months. A friend took my child to school every morning for six months, because I could not get out of bed to take him. Another friend would come and take my little girl for play days, because I could not leave the house. Our neighborhood and church took donations to help us pay for funeral costs. Strangers from all across the state of California were sending us cards of encouragement. An author of a grief book called Roses in December, even showed up on our doorstep, to spend time and minister to us. And while all this was going on, an anonymous “friend” would send us handmade cards of encouragement for almost an entire year!

I think that the most touching things done during this whole ordeal where the words of encouragement that we heard over and over again. Words that offered us a glimpse of God’s love and hope for the future. But one set of words and circumstances will always stick out in my mind, because they saved our marriage. We were ready for divorce because we couldn’t help each other heal and all we saw was our own pain and anger.

Then one evening at church, my husband got up and spoke in front of the whole congregation. Through teary eyes, my husband spoke these words, “Most of you know me and my family. You know my daughter died a few months back. I’m here to tell you how precious your children are and how much you need to just cherish every minute with them. And, I am here to ask you to pray for me and my wife. She is so angry, she won’t let me back into her life.” Then, he looked over at me, and said, “I’m so sorry babe. I’m so sorry. Please let me come home.” At that point, I was so angry that I felt embarrassed and trapped into having to say yes. The people around me begged me to go up and hug him. At first, I did it reluctantly. But, then the entire church stood around us, hugging us as they cried and repeated these words, “We’ve got your back, Scott. We’ve got your back.” Just feeling their love and support, somehow softened my heart and I began to cry. Now that may not seem like much, but those simple, honest, and heartfelt words as well as their actions, often come back to our minds, as words of encouragement and strength.

But even though we had all this support, we were a mess. We felt tension, anger and guilt. We were still falling apart, but those people never gave up on us. Women from church would send cards telling me of incidents they remembered of me and my family with our baby. They would go into great detail about what they saw in us. For instance, “Your love for child, for your children, is a wonderful thing that is evident to me and those who know you. Please take comfort in the fact that you were and still are a good mother, and others see it in you.” Or, “I remember the first time I met you and I commented on how thin you looked, for just having a baby. And you said that you had just told your husband how fat you were, but that was okay. Because you knew it would go away after you were done breastfeeding. You put your baby first. And I would look at you, and see a mom who loves her children and puts them first!” Or, “I got the impression that your children were the most important people in your life! Please continue to be that same mother to your other two children.” The one that shook me out of pushing my children away the most, was the one that said, “Indiana, I thought that since your mommy could write to you, so could I. Your mommy is trying so hard to punish herself. She is like a lost child, searching for something she cannot find. Please ask God to help her heal so that she could take care of your brother and sister….”

Every time we were ready to throw in the towel, someone was there to pick up the pieces. They gave us our hope, because they cared and believed in us. They said that we were inspirations to them, when the reality was that they were our inspirations. They were the ones who kept us going! They were the ones that gave us the courage to move on and to still believe in a loving and caring God.

About The Author:
Alyice Edrich believes that eulogies, written from the heart, pay respect to the deceased, and give honor to his/her memory. Hire Alyice to help you write your eulogy, tribute, or funeral speech. Learn More

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