Coping with special occasions

Many days in the year are special for bereaved parents. Some are public festivals when the whole world seems to be celebrating; others are directly related to our family, such as our child's birthday and the day he or she died. We feel apprehensive as we contemplate these days, especially in the first year of bereavement, and wonder how we will survive them. Anticipating and planning do not take away the pain, but they can help us to get through the day.

Each of us grieves in our own way and at our own pace, and so we should take every member of the family into consideration when making plans. It is a good idea to involve our surviving children in this planning, even the very young ones. If we confide in other people, they will realise that our dead child is central to our thoughts, not someone who is out of sight and therefore out of mind. Hopefully, we will receive some of the help and support which are necessary when our grief still exhausts us and our energy reserves are low. We can explain that we will need to balance sociability with solitude; that certain times will be particularly difficult; and that we may need an opportunity to release our emotions, so we can feel calmer at other times.

Christmas* and other feast days can be especially difficult. The preparations seem to last for months, and confront us at every turn: in shops and streets, on TV and radio, in every conversation. We may feel alienated, locked in the isolation of our private grief. One thing is certain, if this is the first year it will be agonisingly different from previous years. Do we put up decorations, send cards, give presents, attend our place of worship, join in the festive meal, go to the family party? We have to balance each other's needs. If we have very young children, we will want them to enjoy at least some of the important family traditions. We can avoid the overcrowded shops by using mail order or the internet, make simple decorations at home, accept offers of help with cooking. Some of us have found it useful to compose a short note, explaining why we prefer not to send festive cards for those on our annual list whom we think may not have heard our sad news.

Especially in the first year, some families find it easier to do something totally different. We might plan to go away, and so avoid the customary preparations. Walking on the beach or in the countryside can be therapeutic. The negative aspect of this is that it takes us away from friends, who could be a great support. We may be amongst complete strangers whose jollity and enjoyment upsets us. Our children may prefer to be able to visit family or friends and enjoy a taste of ‘normal' celebration.

We will want to find a way of acknowledging and remembering our child who is no longer with us. We can do this in many ways:

• light a candle, perhaps in a special place or at a special time – The Compassionate Friends (TCF) has a world-wide candlelighting day each December;
• buy or make something beautiful, perhaps a special decoration; this can become a family tradition so that over the years we create a collection to help carry our memories into the future;
• give ourselves a present as if from our child, or use the money to make a donation to a favourite charity;
• go on a special walk, or visit a place full of happy memories;
• take flowers to the grave, or a place that holds special memories; this can be part of a celebration as well as a time to remember.

Whatever we do, we should try to make it of our own choosing, not something to satisfy other people's expectations. We can create new traditions which will then become part of our continuing family story. We should be gentle with ourselves, for grief is an exhausting thing. We do not have to pretend that all is well, and tears can be a rightful part of Christmas or any other celebration. Our surviving children would rather share them with us and feel loved and included, than be part of a charade; their moods change quickly, and they can cope with more than we expect of them.

Birthdays are quite different from these communal celebrations. We do not have to cope with the universal mood of jollification: this is a family day. Not all members of the family may share the same feelings. For us parents this day recalls the day our child was born and it is a poignant reminder of all that we have lost. We could let it be known that friends – ours and our child's – and family would be welcome to visit us on that day and share a drink and a chat with us, not quite a birthday celebration, but a remembrance. Our own birthdays, and those of our surviving children, may fall so close to when our child died that any sort of celebration seems inappropriate. Some of us have ‘solved' this by moving the birthday to another date.

The anniversary of the day our son or daughter died is different. It is a new milestone, and in no way a celebration. Some people may remember us the first year and send cards of sympathy, but soon it becomes a day which only we mark or remember. In some families, it may be customary to place an In Memoriam notice in the local paper. Some of us choose to make a quiet visit to the grave, to take a day off work, to take a walk in the country, or just to be at home alone with our thoughts.

Weddings are very difficult occasions. They accentuate the poignant absence of our son or daughter. We are made brutally aware that this is a day that they themselves may have been denied, and that we as parents will never enjoy the happiness of seeing our child marry or of becoming grandparents to their children. We want everyone else to be happy, but our loss casts a dark shadow over our own feelings. We may decide that it is better for us not to attend at all, or for only part of the day. We may want to be there, in a way representing our child – perhaps at the wedding of one of their friends.

Funerals, especially of close family members, are also full of added pain. They may be the first time the family has come together since our own child's funeral, perhaps in the same place of worship, crematorium or cemetery. Our hearts will be full of our own memories, as well as sadness for the present occasion.

Florists, greeting card makers and others with vested interests use every opportunity to remind us of the approach of Mother's Day – and, to some extent, of Father's Day as well. This can only be a cruel reminder to us that there is now one less child to call us by that name. Some local groups in TCF hold an ‘Alternative Mother's Day' service on the day before, when parents are encouraged to join in with appropriate readings, songs and prayers. Each parent takes a single flower, later to be grouped together to create a display for all our children.

Holidays can be full of memories, recalling happier times when the family was complete. In the early years we may feel unable to go on holiday at all, or there may be favourite places that we choose not to revisit for a while. We may need to go somewhere, to try something, that we would not have considered before. Holidays are desperately needed to rebuild our strength, for grief leaves us exhausted, physically as well as emotionally. It may be sensible to take that first holiday somewhere close to home, so that we may return early should we wish.

Remembrances for special occasions

• Candles, symbolising the flame of life, lit in memory of a child who has died. This can be in the home, at the graveside, at a TCF meeting or during a religious service.
• Trees and shrubs planted in our own garden or, with permission, in school, in a park or graveyard.
• Plants chosen in remembrance, especially if our child liked a particular flower or colour. Some plants attract butterflies, which have a special meaning for TCF members. Plants can be given to schools, colleges or other organisations with which our child was involved. There is also a specially named ‘TCF Rose'.
• Balloons, perhaps with a message or our child's name on them, released.

Donations made to organisations or charities that have a special significance for our family. Equipment can be bought for hospital wards, hospices or nursing homes. Books, musical instruments or sheet music can be donated to our child's nursery, school or college. If he or she was old enough to be working, colleagues may want to organise an event in their memory. We may feel we would like to support TCF with a ‘love donation'; leaflets can be sponsored, or a book donated to the TCF Postal Library in memory of our child. Parents sometimes offer bursaries or scholarships in their child's name or commission a gift such as a stained glass window or a park bench. (It is wise to bear in mind, however, that cruel vandals operate everywhere and, if our memorial is in a public place, they could damage it and the happy feelings which helped to put it there.)

Writing - a poem or a letter about your child at the time of the anniversary is therapeutic as well as a special way of remembering. Poems or articles could be sent to TCF's journal Compassion or an inclusion in its “Memory Corner”. Exchanging ideas through TCF meetings,  or the website will help to develop our own ways of coping with special occasions.

All special occasions are part of the tapestry that makes up our family history. Some are joyous, others are sad. After the death of our child, all will have a shadow, a yearning for what might-have-been. But we do survive these days, difficult as they may be, and we carry the loving memory of our child with us into the future.