June 2016

This Month’s Meeting: June 28th @ 7pm
June, 2016
Newsletter
Mike Elder, Editor
The Process
Recently we faced the second anniversary of my son’s death. Quietly, at home, no friends, no phone
calls, no plans, just personal thoughts and reflections. That is how we chose to honor Todd Mennen on this
saddest of days.
My husband said he woke up during the night; he had been dreaming about the accident and Todd’s
death. I slept throughout the night, but when I awoke in the morning I was still in that place between awake
and asleep; I was “in a dream”. Todd and I were having a conversation; it felt nice. I didn’t feel the usual jolt
of reality when I awoke—the jolt each of us feels when we awaken to remember our child is gone. The
conversation was comforting.
We miss him so much. His laugh, his sincere, sparkling eyes will never grace us again. His deep
concern about others, his love of life, his gifts of analyzing, listening, gently suggesting….those have gone
with him. In their place is a deep void.
The process of grieving is a strange one. Each day is different. Throughout each day my child is in
my mind…..in the forefront or in the background….but in my mind. I shed tears unexpectedly, my voice
breaks when I remember truly special events in Todd’s life. Sometimes I get angry over little things.
Sometimes I don’t react to anything. Sometimes I seem normal to everyone, but it doesn’t matter. Normal,
of course, is what others want to see in me. What is normal for a mother whose only child is dead? Who has
that answer? Everyone has an opinion, but in truth, there is no normal, there is no answer.
And so, as we continue to travel this highway of life, our grief is in us and around us.
Sometimes our grief is all we have. Still we travel this empty road.
We understand. We’re all different, yet, we are all the same. Our child is dead. We are
Compassionate Friends.
Annette Mennen Baldwin
In memory of my son, Todd Mennen
TCF, Katy, TX
Our meeting place and time:
Next Month’s
Meeting
Tuesday,
July 26th at 7:00
PM
When: The 4th Tuesday of each month
Place: White’s Chapel United Methodist Church
Inside Evans Hall, Room #2129
Southlake, TX 76092
Time: 7:00 pm – 8:30 pm
Refreshments will be available at each meeting
Note:
Park in the main lot located at the rear of the church facilities. Enter
the large, main entry doors. Evans Hall is on the immediate right.
Room #2129 is on the right side of Evans. Signs will also be posted.
Y OU N E E D N O T WA L K A L O N E — WE A R E T H E COM PA SSI ON A T E FR I E N DS
TCF Southlake
Steering Committee
Co-Leaders:
Marsha Maring
(682) 556-9948—Cell
Ginger Reynolds
(817) 233-9326—Cell
Chapter e-mail address:
[email protected]
Chapter website:
www.TCFSouthlake.org
Treasurer:
Barbara Shaw
Secretary:
Cynthia Dungan
Hospitality:
Jill Eagleston
Eva Sandlin
Newsletter:
Mike Elder
[email protected]
Librarian:
Charlie Reynolds
Committee Members:
Mike Eagleston
Berni Elder
Mike Sandlin
Lisa Nalbantov - Sibling Rep.
Betsy Godbold - Advisory
Regional Coordinator:
Bill Campbell
972-935-0673
[email protected]
PA GE 2
Welcome
We of the Southlake Chapter of The Compassionate Friends offer
you a warm welcome. Our meetings are on the fourth Tuesday of
each month at 7pm. Location, directions and details are found on
page 1 of this newsletter.
We are a self-help organization of parents who have experienced
the death of a child/ children. We offer understanding and support
through our monthly meetings, a lending library, and support
materials. Please do not be afraid to come to a meeting. Every
person in the room has lost a child/children, grandchild/
grandchildren or sibling/s. They come because they feel they need
to be with others who understand.
We know it takes courage to attend that first meeting, but those
who come find an atmosphere of understanding from others who
have experienced the grief that you now have. Nothing is asked of
you. There are no dues or fees and you do not have to speak.
There is a special feeling of sharing and caring at meetings of The
Compassionate Friends.
While coming to your first meeting may be a hard thing to do, you
have nothing to lose but there is much you can gain. To be fair to
yourself we ask that you attend at least three meetings with us
before you decide whether TCF is right for you.
You may find in that second, third or even fourth meeting you may
hear just the words that will help you through your journey or you
may find someone who shares your same circumstances with
whom you will feel comfortable in sharing with.
Again, please remember, everyone in the room has walked the
path you are now on. You are among a group of friends who will
offer understanding, friendship and compassion...but most of all,
the feeling that you do not have to make this journey by yourself.
You need not walk alone...We are The Compassionate
Friends
TCF National Office Information:
The Compassionate Friends
PO Box 3696
Oak Brook, IL 60522 (or)
900 Jorie Blvd. Suite 78
Oak Brook, IL 60523
Phone: (630) 990-0010
Toll-free (877) 969-0010
www.compassionatefriends.org
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PA GE 3
Monthly Topics for Discussion
Each month we would like to present topics for discussion. As
we cover these subjects something might be said to help you
cope a little bit better. Feel free to join in with your ideas and
feelings. We are also open to suggestions for additional subjects
you might like to see discussed.
June: “If you had 5 minutes…” (what would you
say to your child)
July: Darcie Sims Video
August: Beyond Closure—Nancy Berns
April & May Birthday Catch-up:
David Eagleston
Son of Mike and Jill Eagleston
Jake Hensley
Son of Fred Hensley
Zoelle Reeves
Daughter of Adrian & Catherine Reeves
Ellie Kate Mann
Daughter of Kate and Jared Mann
Austin Strause
Son of Troy and Cindy Strause
The Mission of The Compassionate Friends
When a child dies, at any age, the family suffers intense pain and may feel hopeless and
isolated.
The Compassionate Friends provides highly personal comfort, hope, and support to every
family experiencing the death of a son or a daughter, a brother or a sister,
or a grandchild, and helps others better assist the grieving family.
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PA GE 4
Communicating with My Child
Eighteen months ago, I dedicated a bench to Philip. It’s in a space Philip would like, out in the
natural world, with abundant wildlife and wonderful views across hills and sea.
I go there often to spend time alone with my beloved son. I sit on the bench, look at the vistas,
and remember our family as it used to be. I talk to Philip. I make him promises; I ask for his
guidance. I muse on what his life would be like now. I tell him how deeply I love him, how
missing him gets harder with each passing year. I tell him about his brothers, about his
sister-in-law and his little nephew, both of whom he never met. I tell him how important he is
to us. I tell him that we will never forget him, that though our lives are five years past his
death, we still think of him all the time and want him with us. I tell him that I am having a
terribly hard time accepting that he has died, and that I am doing the best I can.
I have no idea if I am communicating with a Philip who has survived death or with myself, who
hopes he has. Sometimes I think I feel an impatient nudge, a sort of, “Get on with it, Mom, it’s
not what you think” message. Sometimes I feel his arms around me in compassionate
understanding. Sometimes I don’t feel any response at all.
I am grateful for these private times with my child. Whether he lives on in some other
sphere—and how I hope he does!—or whether he resides only in our deepest hearts, there is
an honoring of him in these conversations, a recognition of his existence and its importance,
that matters very much to me.
I believe that we all need to find our individual ways of keeping the channels to our children
open. My conversations with Philip may seem odd to some people, but they are right for me. I
encourage you to honor your own private ways of communicating with your beautiful child,
whatever they are. If you are searching for the channel that will work for you, consider what
some other bereaved parents have found helpful: poetry, painting, journal writing, hiking in the
natural world, daydreaming, music, meditation, lighting candles, wearing a deceased child’s
clothing, sitting in his/her room, playing a sport she/he loved, among many, many others. May
the time spent in private dialogue with your child bring you peace-filled moments, a renewed
sense of connection, and strength to continue the difficult journey we are all on.
Kitty Reeve
TCF Marin County and San Francisco Chapters, CA
In Memory of my son, Philip
Love Gifts – A Way to Remember
There are no dues to belong to Compassionate Friends, because we have already paid the
ultimate price; the loss of our loved one(s). A Love Gift is a gift of money given in honor of a
child, who has died, or a gift of thanksgiving that their own children are alive and well, or
simply a gift from someone who wants to help support our Chapter. Your gifts are tax
deductible and are used to reach out to other bereaved parents, grandparents, and siblings.
Your gifts support this newsletter, our TCF Library, and other Chapter expenses.
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PA GE 5
The Tree in Our Backyard
My daughter Lesa was a free spirited child who always had something to say, who enjoyed
school and loved life. One day, as part of a school project, she planted a tree in our back yard
and announced that she had named the tree Angella. Lesa watered the tree daily, fertilized it,
talked to it, and finally placed stakes in the ground to give it more support to help the tree
grow straight. Lesa watched over this tree she named Angella with determination and a
certain amount of pride that she was able to nurture a spindly, leafless tree into a blossoming
life-giving part of nature.
One day our daughter Leslie was mowing the lawn and accidentally hit the tree. Lesa
witnessed this event from an upstairs window and immediately flew down the steps to
confront her sister. A confrontation followed between the two girls, with Lesa demanding an
apology. Leslie told me later that she did, in fact, go over to Lesa’s tree, pat it on the trunk and
apologize. Laughing, she told me it was not only the first time she had spoken to a tree but
also the first time she had apologized to one.
Angella the tree continued to flourish and grow, watched over and nurtured by my daughter.
Lesa, however, became ill with cancer. As her cancer worsened, she was unable to watch
over Angella. Before our last trip to the hospital, Lesa visited the tree and discovered bumps
on the leaves. We delayed our trip to spray the tree to reassure Lesa that her tree would be
safe while she was in the hospital.
Lesa died on a hot summer day in August, two days before her eighth birthday. We moved
away from that house, hoping to find some peace in a new environment and we transplanted
Lesa’s tree Angella to the back yard of our new home. We watched it closely, wondering if the
tree would survive the transplant. Our special friends who knew the story of Lesa’s tree
shared its progress with us.
Several years later we sold our home, but this time Lesa’s tree was too big to transplant. I
wrote the story of Lesa’s tree and how she named it Angella and how Lesa had died of cancer
and I left it on the kitchen counter for the new owners, hoping they would take care of the tree.
Several months passed while I considered contacting the owners, and then one day I met the
daughter of the family that now lives in our old home. She stopped to tell me that the story of
Lesa’s tree had been passed on to them and that they would guard Lesa’s legacy for us. She
described how her family had been touched by this story and they were planning to pass on
the story should they move in the future.
So, the legacy of a child’s love of nature and determination to take care of a special tree goes
on. My daughter did not survive her cancer but the story of Angella the tree has touched the
lives of every family that has lived in our house.
Pat Langford
TCF North Platte, NE
You Need Not Walk Alone
We Are The Compassionate Friends
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WHERE ARE YOU?
I missed you yesterday
and looked for you
among the artifacts of your life your room with pictures,
the clothes that still carried your scent,
your favorite tools and books,
the tapes you loved to hear.
The very walls echoed your vitality
and carried faint memories of riotous laughter.
And so I sat there, comforted for a while,
but forced at last to confess
that although beautiful memories lingered
you were not there,
not then and not ever again.
If I could not find you yesterday,
where, then, can I look today?
Who can I talk to, implore, beg
to show me the way?
Where are the hidden doorways
to the signs and wonders
others claim to see?
My musings bring no answers
so I take a walk to clear my mind.
Ahead, I see children playing,
and their laughter floating on the wind
reminds me of your own carefree approach to life.
Their running mirrors your own abandon
and the way you always found joy in simple things.
Can this be the answer
to the riddle of finding you again?
Can it be that I will hear you
in every moment of laughter?
That I will see you
in the actions of a mischievous friend,
that I will feel you in every touch of compassion?
I’ve always heard
that if you seek, you will find.
Perhaps the corollary to that
is that you must seek in the right places.
I’ve been looking in the scrapbook
of all that used to be
and found only momentary solace.
(Cont’d on page 7)
PA GE 6
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PA GE 7
So let me look for you anew
in all the wonders and blessings of life.
I believe you are reflected there
with every expression of happiness and joy,
in every instance of fearless exploration
and with every act of unconditional love.
©Harold Hopkins, January, 2001
In loving memory of Lance Porter Hopkins
July 20, 1975 – November 30, 1999
A Familiar Face
My family was on vacation in 1985 traveling from Houston to the Black Hills of South
Dakota. We were traveling through Kansas and it was getting dark and late. I got out of our
car to check us into a motel. The woman waiting on me was obviously very tired. When she
saw me, she opened her eyes widely and just looked at me for a while. The expression on
her face was as if she saw someone who looked very familiar and very close to her. I knew
instinctively that I reminded her of someone special. As I started to fill out the forms, she
began to cry. She was in too much pain to explain herself to me. I reached over to hold her
hand. The next morning when I came to check out, she was making small talk but her eyes
were remembering a face that looked like mine. As I told her good bye, she started to cry
again.
Years later my thirteen-year old son, Ryan, died. Six months after his death, I was shopping
and saw a young boy who looked a lot like Ryan. I followed him from aisle to aisle. I told this
boy's mom that my son had just died and her son looked so much like mine. I pulled out
pictures of Ryan and she agreed the boys did look a lot alike. Their clothes were even
similar. The mom told her son to give me a hug: "a real one with both arms." While I was
hugging this young man, I asked God to please let Ryan's spirit move through his body so I
could touch Ryan again. The hug felt like Ryan. I closed my eyes and pretended it was
Ryan. That hug felt like salve on my broken heart.
I wonder if God ever lets our children's spirits come into some other person for just a few
seconds so we can feel some sort of relief? When that woman in Kansas was looking at me
like I was someone else, I did - for a few brief seconds feel like another person. I hope the
tearful woman felt it, too.
Niecy Moss
TCF Houston-West, TX
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PA GE 8
Do You Need To Talk ?
We’re Here To Listen
TCF Southlake has established a phone list for parents who want to talk with
someone who shares a similar loss. Please refer to the list below and if you
feel the need to want to talk we would love to hear from you. If you do not
find a match below for your particular situation, please feel free to call
anyone on the list.
Auto
Barbara (817) 291-4882
Marsha (682) 556-9948
Mike (214) 906-4711
Berni (817) 235-8359
Drowning
Cynthia (817) 899-6141
Illness
Ginger (817) 233-9326
Charlie (817) 366-0749
Jill (817) 991-5455
Mike (817) 991-6462
Drug Related
Eva (817) 808-1153
Sibling Loss
Lisa (817) 366-6544
Infant Loss
Catherine (352) 682-3575
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PA GE 9
The Compassionate Friends Credo
We need not walk alone. We are The Compassionate Friends. We reach out to
each other with love, with understanding, and with hope.
The children we mourn have died at all ages and from many different causes,
but our love for them unites us. Your pain becomes my pain, just as your hope
becomes my hope.
We come together from all walks of life, from many different circumstances. We
are a unique family because we represent many races, creeds, and relationships.
We are young, and we are old. Some of us are far along in our grief, but others
still feel a grief so fresh and so intensely painful that they feel helpless and see
no hope.
Some of us have found our faith to be a source of strength, while some of us are
struggling to find answers. Some of us are angry, filled with guilt or in deep
depression, while others radiate an inner peace. But whatever pain we bring to
this gathering of The Compassionate Friends, it is pain we will share, just as we
share with each other our love for the children who have died.
We are all seeking and struggling to build a future for ourselves, but we are
committed to building a future together. We reach out to each other in love to
share the pain as well as the joy, share the anger as well as the peace, share the
faith as well as the doubts, and help each other to grieve as well as to grow.
We Need Not Walk Alone. We are The Compassionate Friends.