What I Know…The Sandy Hook Tragedy

I know that 26 families just had their world ripped apart because of the violent act of one 20-year-old young man.
I know that twenty children, -- none older than seven years of age -- had their lives taken in the blink of an eye.
I know that six brave adults were killed trying to save the lives of many.
I know that we cannot always rely on others to protect us.

I know that people are looking for answers and there are no simple answers.
I know that in our search for solutions to these senseless killings that there are many problems to solve: gun control, bullying, mental health care options, better and more thorough mental health care coverage with insurance companies, cultural violence, gaming violence, family issues, various types of abuse and on and on.
I also know that it will take a very long time to solve or even make a big dent in any of these issues.

And I know we have to start somewhere.

I know that change starts with the individual…with you, with me and with every single man, woman and child in our world.
I know that kindness starts with a smile.
I know that inclusion helps others feel a sense of belonging.
And I know it takes a lot of courage to go against the masses.
I know anything short of that, won’t be enough.

GRIEF: SHOULDN’T I FEEL MORE SAD?

After the initial tears at my father’s bedside and gravesite, I was struck by how much I didn’t feel. I kept hearing from so many people how the grief will come in waves; one moment I’ll be fine and the next moment I’ll be overcome by a wave of sadness.

For several months after my father’s death, I kept waiting for these so-called waves. My husband felt them when his brother died, my friend felt them when her mother died…why wasn’t I feeling it when my father died? I wondered if I was just an unfeeling person; perhaps something was wrong with me.

I began to inquire about this with my siblings, friends, and others who had lost close family members. What I found out was quite interesting: Many of them had the same experience as me.

THE END OF THE JOURNEY…What I learned about death

My father passed away on Friday with me, my sister, and my mother at his side. I feel blessed to have been there and glad I was given the gift of closure that so many others are never given.

Throughout this journey there are a few things I’ve learned that I thought I’d share with others. I’m sharing only my point of view and would not be surprised if other’s views are different.

I’ve learned that when someone is dying:
1. Don’t deter them from talking about death—let them speak. Don’t make them pretend that what’s happening isn’t really happening. That is not helpful for them--even if it is helpful for you.
2. Don’t make them talk about dying if they don’t want to. Open the door for them and if they choose to go through it, then go through it with them; if they don’t, then at least know you gave them the opportunity.
3. Don’t say they were wonderful if they weren’t. I believe they will know this isn’t true and it will be more upsetting than comforting. It’s also inauthentic. You don’t have to complain about what they did or didn’t do, and nor do you have to pretend that everything was perfect. Just let them know you love them.

MY FATHER'S JOURNEY: A RELATIONSHIP GIFT

I'm back in Florida with my dad. He's been amazingly strong through this, which has been inspiring to witness. He hasn't eaten or had any liquids in twelve days, yet he doesn't complain. He has always been an incredibly strong individual--a trait that is helping him enormously in his final journey in this life. He responds to yes or no questions by squeezing our hands and he still smiles when we say something funny.

He has always had a great sense of humor; I'm touched that he has kept this even on his death bed. It is one of the wonderful gifts he has given to all of us. When I told this to him and added that I can be particularly funny, he smiled. I then told him the story of my mother-in-law who got run over by a rhino while on a safari in Africa (true story!)...well I thought he was going to spit up he thought it was so funny.

(Note to mother-in-law...I knew you would be okay with giving him a few laughs. Thank you for the material and I'm glad you are okay:-).

Anyway, this has been such an interesting process. Anyone who has gone through this, I'm sure knows what I mean. I feel blessed to have this opportunity and sad to see him go. I went back home Monday and realized that I wanted to be by my father's side during his journey. I returned Wednesday. I've decided to be here until he passes. The doctor says it's likely to be within a couple days. Although I'm torn between being home for my own family and being here for my parents, I can't help but think I would regret not being with him for his final hours.

THE DEATH OF A LOVED ONE...Cherish your loved ones now--tomorrow may never come

As I sit in my father's hospital room I'm struck by how fast everything is happening. Although he has had a progressive illness for several years, he's been fairly strong and healthy. A part of me thought he'd be around another several years.

Last week that began to change. He fell, was in the hospital, and was transferred to rehab for a few days. As of Monday night it seemed he was going to be okay but I decided to fly in to see him. Upon my arrival, I was told he cannot eat without a feeding tube. He refused the feeding tube. We brought him home yesterday with hospice care.

My daughter had said to me several months ago that she really wanted to see "Nono" one more time before he died. I thought we had at least a year or two. Our family had planned to visit this Thanksgiving.