Inside this Issue: Love Gifts
Virtual Candle Light Service
Zoom Meetings for December 2 The House Without A Christmas 3 Special Handling, Please 4
I’m Busy 5
Gifts from Above ‘Twas the Night Before
Christmas 6
The holidays
Beyond Christmas Trees 7
The Holiday Army 8
Wishing the Holidays Would Go Away
Surviving the Holidays 9 December Birthdays 10 December Anniversaries 11
If you are receiving this newsletter for the first time, it is because
someone has told us it might be helpful for you. We also invite you
to our monthly meetings at Hayes Barton Baptist Church. At these
meetings you may talk or choose not to say a word. There are no
fees or dues. We are sorry you have had to experience the death of
a child (or children) but we are here for you. We, too, are on this
journey of grief and extend our hearts and arms to you.
DECEMBER
2020
Zoom Meetings:
Tuesday, December 8
7:00pmTuesday December 22
7:00pmCandle Light Service
Sunday, December 13
7:00pm – See page 2
If this is your first Newsletter:
Our Wake County TCF Chapter meets every second and fourth Tuesday nights of the month at 7:00pm in Room 224 at Hayes Barton Baptist Church, 1800 Glenwood Avenue (at the corner of Glenwood Avenue and Whita-ker Mill Road at Five Points) in Raleigh. Enter from Whitaker Mill Road into the Main En-trance of the Family Life Center.
Can you see our candles
Burning in the night?
Lights of love we send you
Rays of purest white
Children we remember
Though missing from our sight
In honor and remembrance
We light candles in the night
All across the big blue marble
Spinning out in space
Can you see the candles burning
From this human place?
Oh, angels gone before us
Who taught us perfect love
This night the world lights candles
That you may see them from above
Tonight the globe is lit by love
Of those who know great sorrow,
But as we remember our yesterdays
Let's light one candle for tomorrow
We will not forget,
And every year in deep December
On Earth we will light candles
As.... we remember
Lights of Love
Jacqueline Brown,
Alvah Ward
In Loving Memory of Our Son
Larry E. Stafford
And His Mother, Rachel T. Ward Rachel T. Ward (A very devoted long time member of our Wake TCF group)
DECEMBER LOVE GIFTS
Given In Loving Memory Of Children
Please send Love Gifts to: Love Gifts—Wake County Chapter, TCF, P. O. Box 6602. Raleigh, NC 27628-6602. Send pictures & articles to Pattie Griffin at pattie.grif@gmail.com or 30 Shepherd Street, Raleigh NC 27607.
I N M E M O R Y
ATTENTION !
ZOOM Meetings for December
The church where we meet is still closed with all meetings cancelled so we cannot meet in person again this month, therefore we will have two zoom meetings during December. Our first zoom meeting will be Tuesday, December 8, at 7:00pm and our second zoom meeting will be Tuesday, December 22, at 7:00pm. If you would like to join us for either of these meetings, please contact Judy Schneider for the link needed to be able to join the meeting.
jschn_2000@yahoo.com
Our chapter also has a private Facebook page so we can communicate when we can’t meet in person. It is a great way to ask a question or make a comment or request feedback on a relevant topic. Since it is a private group, you will have to request to join. The group name is “TCF Wake County” and the administrator is Judy Schneider. Please contact Judy if you would like to join this group.
Our TCF Wake County 2020
Virtual Candle Light Memorial Ceremony
December 13, 2020
7:00PM
Join us for our first “virtual” Worldwide Candle Light Remembrance Ceremony.
Bring your own candle, and a photo of your child(ren).
As candles are lit at 7:00pm local time on this day, hundreds of thousands of persons
commemorate and honor the memory of all children gone too soon, and this
remembrance travels around the world as candles are lit in every time zone.
Email Judy Schneider at jschn_2000@yahoo.com to get the link needed
to join us for this very special service.
The House Without A Christmas
In Christmases past, our cottage by the pond danced in greenery and lights. Wreaths hung like necklaces on each window. Our Christmas tree was adorned with much loved old ornaments; handmade trinkets by Alex, our daughter; and those picked up in our travels. She received the White House Christmas or-nament every year and carefully hung them so they were almost all in the same place. Once she went to bed, I would quietly space them out a bit.
Around aged seven, Alex and her Dad started a tradition of singing Happy Birthday to me first thing every Christmas morning. Yes, I’m a Christmas baby. She would proudly march into my bedroom with a Snicker candy bar on a plate and a single candle which highlighted her bright smile.
On April 30, 2012, our beloved Alex was killed in a car accident when she was sixteen. When she died, most of me died too. I was fifty years old. The shell of my person still existed but the rest of me disap-peared into a fog of deep depression and oblivion. My movements were sluggish if I moved at all. My thoughts were garbled and I closed my bedroom door to shut out the world.
My house tightly gripped me and all my grief. The blinds and doors remained closed, and the staleness of death, desperation, and despondency lingered in the air. Pain seeped into the walls and floors and the boards moaned whenever I walked across them.
Over time, the veil of death parted slightly and I began to come out of shock. It was only then I could truly see the brokenness surrounding me. Old, run down, and forgotten. The house was the outward appearance of how I felt internally. Five years after her death, I had aged at least ten years. My voice was noticeably more quiet and an octave lower. Replacing my smiling face was a permanently etched frown on an older woman.
One day, I caught the first glimpse of myself and scowled. How dare this old, sour woman take over my mind, body, and soul? Alex was so full of life and laughter. I began to make small changes to make her proud of me.
She loved acting and being on stage. Two years ago, at Halloween, which was six years after her death, I ordered a queen costume and gave out candy at church. I spoke with a British accent and using my scepter, made all the children either a prince or princess. They hugged me. I delighted in their amaze-ment that a real “Queen” was giving out candy. Admittedly, I did bring out my best acting chops. Such a small thing for me to do, but it made the kids happy. A few of the blinds and interior doors in my house opened. My heart peeked out and noticed the sun was shining.
Christmas was on the way, our seventh without Alex. Where I once avoided anything to do with the season, I noticed my heart opening a bit more to allow a wreath on the front door. I ordered a Mrs. Claus suit including granny boots, glasses, apron, and a wig and visited two preschools in the area. For that short time, those children were my children and Alex was with me once again, smiling, laughing, and singing the Christmas carols she loved so dearly. Perhaps this will be the year our house is adorned in lights and love and our hearts will rejoice in Christmas once again.
(In Memory of Alex Tweedy) Written by her Mom, Susan Tweedy
Christmas In Heaven
Bereavement Magazine (Nov/Dec 1990) www.bereavementmag.com
I
Please rush through the holiday season,
Too painful to open for any reason, Contained within, find one
bereaved heart—
Fragile, broken, falling apart. Tried to go shopping the other day, The hype of the season blew me away.
Sat down to write cards, That was insane,
Couldn't find the list Or think of my name. People say, "Come over," "Be of good cheer," "Celebrate the holidays," "Prepare a New Year." But my grief overwhelms me Like waves in the sea.
Can they cope with my crying, An unsettled me?
I don't have any holiday cheer, Decorations, traditions, big family meal;
I can't do it this year. Do you know how I feel? Guilty and frustrated, I've let everyone down. Our holiday celebrations Used to be the best in town!
So just ship me away, Address unknown, When my grief is over, I might fly home. Signed: Bereaved Heart
I just couldn't send Bereaved Heart away, so I jotted a note and left it that day:
Dear Bereaved Heart: The death of your loved one Has forced you to start A new type of living That's hard on the heart. Undecorating your life Of its angers and fears is not easy to do
Without shedding tears. And untying your guilt Can release a bundle of strife. Questions are stirred up About living and life. Don't be concerned now With invitations, big meals; See how the little stuff Handles and feels.
Let the love of your family, Neighbors or friends, Uphold and sustain you When you're at loose ends. Most are eager to be there, Willing to share,
Tell them your needs
And they'll show you they care.
They'll take you shopping, Write cards, even cook. Let that stuff go now, Get yourself off the hook. You need time for healing, You've much work to do. Your heart needs mending— Give that gift to YOU.
Take a walk, read a book, Try something your style, Make sure it's relaxing, Makes you pause, rest awhile. When holiday invitations Knock at your door, Don't say "yes" to five When you only want four. If you wish to remember Your loved one who died, Plant a tree, give a gift, Let your heart be your guide. This season of wonder
Can bring you relief If you're willing to unwrap Your tears and your grief. Please listen, Bereaved Heart, Stay close and please dare, To open your package And let others care. Signed,
Your friend, C. U. Soon
A Holiday Message:
SPECIAL HANDLING, PLEASE:
by Mary J. Pinkava
~ Author Unknown ~
I see the countless Christmas trees Around the world below, With tiny lights, like Heaven's Stars,
Reflecting in the snow. I know how much you miss me, I see the pain inside your heart,
But I am not so far away, we really aren't apart. Please love and keep each other,
As I pray for you to do,
For I can't count the blessings of love God has for each of you.
Christine Torricelli belongs to our Wake County Chapter in Raleigh, North Carolina. Her son, Sean Patrick, died at the young age of 17. Sean leaves behind two younger brothers who miss him every day, a step-father, and a mother who no longer is afraid of dying and writes to keep her first-born's memory alive. She writes to release all the pain and heartache that has no where to go but on paper. She feels that if her writ-ing can help a grieving parent and let them know they are not alone, then she has a new purpose in life.
I’m Busy
I’m busy you see, doing nothing it may seem, It takes time sorting through the chaos in my head.
It’s similar to cleaning out a messy clothes closet, Preparing for the new season to arrive.
Putting the spring dresses and strappy sandals away, Making room for soft sweaters and trendy boots.
However, the rearranging in my head is a bit more complicated. As the holidays quickly and sadly approach,
I find myself putting memories of my son away.
The good memories can be just as difficult as the bad ones,
They remind you of what you no longer have and what will never be again. The memories get categorized in different shoe boxes that
I have scattered throughout my head.
The frustrating part about this cleanup is that I have accumulated Too many shoe boxes taking space in this confused space of mine.
The lids of these boxes never seem to sit quite right on the top, Which leaves the opportunity for these memories to escape at any time.
They visit when you are shopping in a store or Having a conversation with a new friend.
The mere thought of tears is like
An invitation for the flood gates to unleash their sorrow. The lids come flying off the boxes and almost immediately,
It is a rolodex of flashbacks being forced in front of you. Antagonizing you, look at what you had and what is lost forever.
Before you know it, you are sitting in your car
With mascara staining your face … unaware of how much time has passed. But you continue to sit in your car … not looking busy.
I don’t engage in conversation too often which makes me seem shy. But that is only because I am busy trying to soften the noise in my head.
I am busy trying to keep the inside screams within, To prevent myself from looking like a crazy person.
My busy is probably different than your busy, My busy looks like I am not busy at all,
But you see I am very busy, busy trying to hold it together.
’Twas the Night
Before Christmas
~ For Bereaved Parents ~
'Twas the month before Christmas and I dreaded the days, That I knew I was facing —
the holiday craze. The stores were all filled
with holiday lights, In hopes of drawing customers
by day and by night.
As others were making their holiday plans, My heart was breaking — I couldn't understand.
I had lost my dear child a few years before, And I knew what my holiday had in store. When out of nowhere, there arose such a sound,
I sprang to my feet and was looking around, Away to the window I flew like a flash, Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash. The sight that I saw took my breath away, And my tears
turned to smiles in the light of the day. When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a cluster of butterflies fluttering near. With beauty and grace they performed a dance,
I knew in a moment this wasn't by chance. The hope that they gave me was a sign from above, That my child was still near me and that I was loved.
The message they brought was my holiday gift, And I cried when I saw them in spite of myself.
As I knelt closer to get a better view,
One allowed me to pet it — as if it knew — That I needed the touch of its fragile wings,
To help me get through the holiday scene. In the days that followed I carried the thought, of the message the butterflies left in my heart — That no matter
what happens or what days lie ahead,
Our children are with us — they're not really dead. Yes, the message of the butterflies still rings in my ears,
A message of hope — a message so dear, And I imagined they sang as they flew out of sight, "To all bereaved parents — We love you tonight!"
by Faye McCord
Newsletter Editor – TCF, Jackson, MS
“Gifts from Above”
They came from different places, they came from different homes, These gifts of children from above, that we claimed as our own.
These precious gifts were given with love from God above, Because He thought us worthy to care for these gifts with love. These priceless gifts were welcomed by parents around the world,
Celebrating the joys they brought, these tiny boys and girls.
It amazes us and gives us pause that we were chosen to receive, These cherished gifts from above— what an honor we believe.
We wonder why our gifts could not stay. Could it be they were much too loved, These precious gifts of our children— Loved, missed and remembered. These precious gifts from above, They left us much too soon, we think, and we continue to question "Why?" It does not seem fair to us
that our children had to die. We are left with empty arms and shattered dreams.
Grief and pain now fill our lives. Our homes that once
were filled with laughter,
now harbor our anguished cries. When finally we emerge from the quicksand of fresh raw grief, We start to search for reasons left to live so we can find relief.
We long to hear from others like us, with hearts that understand.
Then someone may tell us of a place where people meet
called The Compassionate Friends. There we find a group of people like us, joined by the bond of grief and love, Where we can share together About our children, these precious "Gifts From Above".
The holidays....
The mere thought brings on the tears. How do we get through them? How do we even survive them? How can we make them pleasant for our loved ones? How do we celebrate them and with who? How do we look forward to Thanksgiving, Christmas, Hanukah, New Year’s? How do we decorate for the holidays when each orna-ment reminds us of days past? When putting up the nativity scene, we are reminded of how much we have in common with Mary and Joseph. Do we go to holiday parties?
Our son's birthday is on December 18th. So, we also have a birthday to
survive. Ever left a grocery cart full of groceries on the spot when a memory surfaced? You are not alone. Do you find it difficult to plan a holiday menu or tradition because it is painful and concentra-tion is difficult? We do also. The first year we lost David we trav-eled. We visited family and friends on the east coast for Thanksgiving and the west coast for Christmas. We are not wealthy and certainly do not travel every year, but found it necessary that first year. We are also fortunate to have family/ friends who allowed us the space to grieve and attempt to heal at the same time.
We have embraced the traditions of our son and his wife's family. They have adopted us and we are blessed with a whole new family which includes little ones who make the holidays special once again. Don't try to endure the holi-days alone, allow those who love you to help. What you will discover is that there are different traditions and experiences which can enrich your life. Let's face it, the holidays as we knew them will never be the same no matter how hard we try. We often hear the phrase that there is an empty chair at the din-ner table. We who have lost a child know that it is far more than that. I do my Christmas shopping early. The stores are not as crowded, the decorations and music are at a minimal and it doesn't overwhelm me as much. Whenever possible
I send my husband to the grocery store, it is easier for him than me. Friends often offer help, but don't know what kind of help we need. Let them help you. Give them your grocery list. David loved cookies. So, now I try to bake cookies on his birthday. Last year I gave away dozens of cookies. It was great therapy for me on that special day. In the morning I shed a few tears, got busy baking and was exhaust-ed at the end of the day.
I didn't send out holiday cards that first year, but I do now. Consider a visit to a counselor or therapist if you have not done so. They can be a great resource of ideas and com-fort. I have yet to enjoy holiday parties, but possibly will in the fu-ture. I still struggle with our Christ-mas Eve service at our church, but found it much easier last year with our new granddaughter there and it reminded me of the meaning of Christmas. Maybe this year we will go to a different church service, we'll see. I constantly look for es-capes or as I like to consider them new blessings. The past traditions are far too painful and on that dreadful day of 3/10/05, I discov-ered that we needed to look for an alternative lifestyle. The normal as we knew it no longer existed. We needed a new normal. That meant different grocery stores, new shop-ping techniques, new traditions, new coping ideas, new vision, etc. Many new friends have come into our lives since we lost David, friendships that I would not have had but for his loss. I still don't un-derstand God's plan, never will while on this earth. But, through the tears I see His good works eve-rywhere, even in loss. So, no mat-ter how you decide to celebrate the holidays, it must be right for you. No one is to judge you even if you manage to invite only one friend and serve PB&J. We take ba-by steps in this journey. There is no right. There is no wrong. I live with hope and faith that one day, I will once again look forward to the holidays with joy in my heart, and I pray that you will as well.
David's Mom, Diana Bodnar TCF Omaha
Beyond Christmas Trees
AngelsStars
Beloved carols
Beyond presents
Shopping… Baking… Cooking Beyond all these sights… Sounds
Beyond all of these…
There is
HOPE
HOPE
for the bereaved parent even at Christmas,one of the most painful times of the year.
There is an essence of hope…
HOPE
HOPE that sustains us through days of grief
anger frustration loneliness.
HOPE
that someday the pain of the deaths of our children will be eased.HOPE
that someday our smiles will be real.HOPE
that once again we will laugh love and cry completelywithout fear or hollowness.
HOPE
that someday we can remember our children with a tenderness merely tingedwith sorrow, not overwhelmed with it.
So it is for each of you I would hope…
peace
compassion
love
sympathy
understanding
sharing, and listening.
In sharing our grief with one another In the emotional support
we give to one another we receive and understand
all of these gifts.
8
THE HOLIDAY ARMY
Here it comes again — the Holi-day Army — in its annual march against us. Some of its generals are called “Thanksgiving,” “Christmas,” “Hanukkah,” “New Year’s Eve” and “New Year’s Day.” They are no respecters of the heartbroken and emotionally wounded, and their troops are merciless. They take no prison-ers! They demand that we par-ticipate in their joy and nostalgia or they will mow us down with their militant tanks of holiday spirit.
Sometimes they declare their war on us openly — without shame or remorse. Sometimes, they wait for us in ambush. Their intelligence operators have been working diligently all year, wait-ing for the Thanksgivwait-ing Day (or sometimes Halloween!) trumpet signal to begin their attack. They just don’t seem satisfied to have their celebrations and parties and dinners and festivities un-less they can recruit ALL of us into their ranks.
Actually, we wish them well. All we really want is for them to leave us alone and let us mourn in peace and quiet. We prefer our “Silent Nights” to their “Deck the Halls” and “Jingle Bells.” We don’t intentionally spoil their fun; it’s just that our pain makes them uncomfortable. They’ve been conditioned to believe that “The Holiday Season” should have no blemish of suffering or lack of frivolity. We must not on-ly bandage our wounds while in their presence, but cover them with taffeta and sequins besides. They are convinced that all we need is to “put on a happy face” and all our sorrows will magically evaporate.
In their mad pursuit of happi-ness, they shoot us with the bul-lets of shopping, piped-in music, special holiday foods and fra-grances, gift wrapping, decora-tions (especially the angels!), joyous children with happy smiles, cards, invitations, parties and gift exchanges. Any other
time of the year, snow is consid-ered a nuisance to shovel and plow through. At the holiday season, though, it is touted as romantic and is linked to sleighs and starry nights in front of fire-places, snuggled close to those we love.
The most devastating bombs they drop into our lives are the images of reunion — times of greeting and hugging folks who are much loved and sometimes not often seen for awhile. They may only be separated by geog-raphy; our absent loved ones cannot cross the chasm of loss that looms before our tear-filled eyes. They remind us of things we should be thankful for (and we are more thankful for many of those things than they can ever imagine). They prod us with their spears of delightful togeth-erness, never realizing that what they celebrate is what we cannot now enjoy. We would not dream of attacking them in these bat-tles for holiday survival. With our noses pressed against the glass that divides us, we actually long to be able to be part of their happiness. We remember the times we joined in their fun and we, too, were part of their army of nostalgia and joy.
Our broken hearts and bleeding wounds do not excuse us from being gracious, however. While grief does not give us permission to be rude and selfish, and we take no overt action against their aggression, we are not without defenses in these bat-tles. We can shield ourselves with the armor of dignity with kind but direct and simple expla-nations: “We understand your need for celebration, but this year we prefer quiet and private reflection and meditation.” “Right now it’s hard for us to function in large groups and to appreciate laughter and high spirits.” “Our energy is so lim-ited; we’d appreciate some quiet one-on-one time with you in a more spiritual atmosphere.”
We can gently remind them of how important it is for us to re-member those we love who are gone. These are statements that clarify our position without judg-ing or criticizjudg-ing them for theirs. In kind and non-threatening ways, we need to tell them what’s good for us, because they won’t think of it on their own, and they can use the education. We also can exercise the mus-cles of our sense of humor. It will take some effort on our part, but so does anything that is worthwhile and good for us. We can teach ourselves not to fall into the trap of thinking that our grief makes us the center of the universe. We can limit our de-mands that others treat us in “special” and “deferential” ways because of our pain. We can cut them a little slack and remember that once upon a time, we were just like they are now. It’s good and healthy for us to review our perspectives now and then and decide if we’re being fair and reasonable.
We can express our love in sim-ple and unhurried ways without all the frenetic, expensive and often hysterical hype that the holidays can generate. And we must exercise the expression of our love. Grief does not rob us of our ability to love; it reminds us ever more dramatically of our need to both give and receive love while we are here.
Whenever we can take some control in our situations, we em-power ourselves, and then we feel less like victims in what seems like a war of “peace on earth, goodwill toward men.” Anytime we can educate and in-form with mercy and compas-sion, we have given a truly spir-itual holiday gift of love that will keep on giving forever.
May your season be filled with genuine blessings of peace.
—Andrea Gambill
Posted 12-14-2017 by Sara Zeigler on www.compassionatefriends.org
Lovingly Lifted from Open to Hope Website
At least I don’t have to deal with Christmas. It must be terrible for those who used to rejoice in the holiday. One less present under the tree. One less diner at dinner. One less reason to go on. And every-one else happy and smiling. It’s Christmas. The happi-est time of the year. Rejoice in the season. Or else.
Joy for them maybe. But not for us. Just a mean reminder of how much has been lost. How hollow the day is. And they want you to be happy. To join in and decorate the tree. Hang holly when you’d rather hang yourself. They are all so deliriously joyful for the holi-day and cannot understand why you can’t get into it.
“Sure you lost a kid but damn, it’s Christmas. Get with it. Snap out of it. Join the celebration” when all you want to do is flee and be alone with your pain. “Come join us in some Christmas carols” when all you want to sing is of your loss.
“Leave me alone. Take your celebration else-where. This is not a holiday to rejoice. To celebrate. It is just another day of hurt.”
The very joy of the season causes exquisite pain and deeper grief. Everything and most everyone is happy. Happier than any other time of the year while your days all blend into one dampened, grey cloud of grief. Your happiness just points out my pain to me. Your being joyous just makes my grief deeper. Can’t
you understand that there is nothing to celebrate. Nothing to be happy about.
There’s pressure to let it go for a day and join in the festivities. Am I being selfish as I wallow in my grief? Can’t I just lighten up? I’m killing Christmas.
Well maybe if something, someone, did not kill my child I could join in. Maybe if the power you are cele-brating did not decide to take my child, I could rejoice in his birth. If my pain makes you less able to enjoy the holiday, imagine how it makes me feel every day.
Must be hell to have to see everyone so excited to get their presents and there is one less under the tree. One less ripping at paper. One less smiling face. One less. One less.
And if you can’t understand that, you can’t under-stand me. So just leave me alone. Let me be. I have nothing to celebrate. This is not the most wonderful but the most terrible time of the year. I can’t join your party. I can’t deliver a smile I don’t have. I don’t want to celebrate anything ever again. You demand too much from me.
Want to see me happy? Just give me a simple present. It does not even have to be wrapped. Just give me my child back or keep your holiday. Christmas Day is not for me.
Dr. Neal Raisman and his firm N.Raisman & Associates is the leading authority and consultant group on customer service and retention in higher education for the US, Canada and Europe. He has a daughter Shana and two grandchildren Emma and Jack. His son Issac died of meningitis at age 26.
WISHING THE HOLIDAYS WOULD GO ON BY
Written by Neal Raisman
on Friday, December 5, 2014
Surviving The Holidays
• Tradition is meant to serve people, not the other way around. Do not be afraid to change what is no longer comfortable or convenient.
• Recognize that your emotional and physical strength will be limited, and do not overextend. Enlist the help of other family members.
• Parties are exhausting, and you may not feel in a “merry-making” mood. Do not allow well-meaning friends and relatives to pressure you to attend.
• If a large meal is part of the usual pattern, consider eating out or having someone else prepare it.
• Religious services may or may not bring comfort. You may want to sit near an exit in order to leave quick-ly, if necessary, without disturbing other worshippers.
• You cannot buy your way out of grief. Watch your spending habits. You may want to limit your cash-on-hand and put your credit cards away for a while.
• A visit to the cemetery is appropriate, if you are up to going. It is not an obligation; you may stay away if you feel you do not have the strength for it.
• Some people take great comfort in spending holiday time helping others. You may wish to donate several hours of service in the name of your child.
• As you look at things to do over a particular holiday, ask yourself this question: “Will the holiday be meaningful to me if I do things different this year?”
• Be kind to yourself. This is a time to do what is best for you, and if other people do not understand, do not let that worry you. Grief is as individual as you are, and just because someone else was able to “carry on in the grand tradition,” do not feel you have to copy them. Be true to yourself and your grief.
LOVED AND ALWAYS REMEMBERED
Our December Children
Birthdays
Kyesha Brown Daughter Sharon & Zerroike Jones Ayden Champion Son Mechelle & Eric Champion
Drew Winstead Son Gwynn Winstead
Matthew Cossa Son Bill & Amy Cossa
Patrick Lee Son Cheryl Lee
Davis Peacock Son Kim Hasty
Lily Thornton Daughter Elizabeth Jeffress & Natasha Mclean Gena Kuchyt Daughter Tiffani & Patrick Kuchyt
Dana Elizabeth Rabeler Daughter Lawton & Valerie Rabeler
Austin Wiggs Son Beth Davis
Caleb Woodlief Son Sandra Woodlief
Stewart Scarborough Daughter Lynn & Emerson Scarborough Kimberly Neely Daughter Ken & Cle Neely
Dillon Jeffreys Son June Jeffreys
Brian Darnell Son Pam & Pete Harris
Brent Damery Son Lou Frickman & Stephanie Damery Son Brent & Andrea Damery
Hannah Victoria Pearce Daughter Lisa Pearce
Cindy Osborne Sister Kathleen Loos
Jenifer Heintzelman Rice Daughter Richard & Constance Heintzelman Hannah Claire Bolton Daughter Sherri & Bob Bolton
Joey Goolden Son Pam Goolden
Mehdy Hazheer Son Mir & Hafsa Hazheer
Justin Moore Son Barbi Moore
Recipe for Recovery
As many of us go about prepar-ing our Holiday dinners, don’t we wish we had a “Recipe for Recovery”? “Just add a cup of boiling water, stir well and drink,” and our grieving would be over. Our society seems to crave “instant answers,” but be-reavement is a long process, and there are no easy solutions. Yet, I couldn’t help imagining what I would put in my own “Recipe for Recovery.”
Start with one cup of the MILK OF HUMAN KINDNESS — all those dear friends who did not turn away from me when they heard of Steve’s suicide; but helped in many practical, caring ways to make the first months easier.
Add several GOOD EGGS — helping professionals like my minister, the counselor who suggested TCF, and the young funeral director couple who organized the TCF chapter I attended in New York. Throw in a few heaping tablespoons of READING
MATERIALS — Books and pam-phlets from the TCF Library that started my thoughts going in a positive direction.
Add THE SALT OF THE EARTH — wonderful new Friends I met though TCF and other support groups. Maybe we should call them THE CREAM OF THE CROP, because eventually they rise to the top.
Sprinkle liberally with TEARS — because it’s okay to cry, and generously with LAUGHTER — because we can learn to smile again.
Bake in a warm oven of TENDER LOVING CARE. Be sure to make enough to share with others and freeze some for later.
That’s my recipe — what’s yours?
~ Cynthia Kelley, TCF, Cincinnati, Ohio
LOVED & ALWAYS REMEMBERED
Our December Children
Anniversaries
Denzel Russ Son Olivia Russ
Cameron Dow Son Tannetta van Vlissingen & Mike Bissict
Mark Grzyboski Son Jane Rockwell
Wendi Rene Hutchins Daughter Margaret & Chip Hutchins
Angel Woods Daughter Ronette Wheeler
Gavin William Boyd Westover Son Ted & Patty Westover Brent Damery III Son Brent & Andrea Damery
Son Lou Frickman & Stephanie Damery
Timothy Reedy Son Kelly Boutwell
Hannah Claire Bolton Daughter Sherri & Bob Bolton LaTonya Ellis-Hoffman II Daughter LaTonya Ellis Dr. Empres-Janeen Hughes Daughter Donald R. Hughes
Karen Jenks Daughter Carolyn Nelson
Kyesha Brown Daughter Sharon & Zerroike Jones
Alomaun Dunn Son Tomocus Alston
William Michael Scherpereel Son Janice L. Scherpereel
Blake Rosin Son Christine Rosin
Amy Elizabeth Brinson Daughter Brenda Hoffee
Dustin Poe Son Sharon & Gary Bielejeski
Ben Feldman Son Polly Feldman
Kittrell Travis "Kitt" Blake Son Sallie Summers & Keith Blake
Kemp Jefferson Son Lynn Morris
Nathanael Holt Son Terri & Bill Holt
Zachary Poisson Son Jean-Marie & Lani Poisson
Kevan Hill Son Beth & Mike Hill
Contributions Will Be Made to Our Wake TCF Group When You Shop
at AmazonSmile Foundation
An AmazonSmile Foundation account has been registered for our chapter by our Treasurer. Here is the background information.
What is the AmazonSmile Foundation?
The AmazonSmile Foundation is a 501(c)(3) private foundation created by Amazon to administer the AmazonSmile program. All donation amounts generated by the AmazonSmile program are remitted to the AmazonSmile Foundation. In turn, the AmazonSmile Foundation donates those amounts to the charitable organizations selected by our customers. Amazon pays all expenses of the AmazonSmile Foundation; they are not deducted from the donation amounts generated by purchases on Ama-zonSmile.
How does AmazonSmile work?
When first visiting AmazonSmile (smile.amazon.com), customers are prompted to select a charitable organization from over one million eligible organizations. In order to browse or shop at AmazonSmile, customers must first select a charitable organization. For eligible purchases at AmazonSmile, the Am-azonSmile Foundation will donate 0.5% of the purchase price to the customer’s selected charitable organization. Please search for/select "The Compassionate Friends Wake County Chapter". It will show a location of Oak Brook IL because that is where the National Office is located. The donations will come to our Wake County Chapter because our Wake County Bank Account is designated as the receiving entity for donations to us.
The Compassionate Friends, Inc. Wake County Chapter
PO Box 6602
Raleigh, NC 27628-6602
THE COMPASSIONATE FRIENDS, INC.
Wake County Chapter
PO Box 6602
Raleigh, NC 27628-6602
Chapter Leaders Vince and Judy Schneider vpsch@nc.rr.com
Bereavement Letters
& Hospitality Charlene Peacock...919-395-4107 peacockbig@aol.com
Treasurer Gary Yurcak...919-847-1780 gyurcak@bellsouth.net
Newsletter Editor
& Membership Info Pattie Griffin...919-829-1982 pattie.grif@gmail.com
Wake TCF Phone Line Cathy Joostema...919-833-4022 joostema2@hotmail.com
Website www.TCFWake.com sarah@tcfwake.com
Greeter & Social Planner David Tatum...919-623-3428 david.tatum@aol.com
Social Planner Dawn Cullom...919-247-9649 dawn_mooney2@hotmail.com
National Office Information: The Compassionate Friends
PO Box 3696, Oak Brook, IL 60522 Toll-Free: 877-969-0010
Website: www.compassionatefriends.org Email: nationaloffice@compassionatefriends.org
2020 Virtual Candle Light Service Sunday - December 13 - 7:00pm
