"A Fathers Journey Through Grief" 

From my perspective as a bereaved parent, the most powerful and meaningful thing someone can do for us it to stick with us today, tomorrow and forever. It's a blessing to be a father and have the gift of children in our lives, but when they die, the blessing can at times (in the beginning) feel like a curse because of our incredible sorrow. Since we can't have our kids physically in our life any longer, we want their memories brought to us in any form. Acknowledgement of our kids is important to a bereaved parent because the calls, cards and gifts are about the lives of our kids. Those memories are living, breathing snapshots of them. Bringing that back is a very good thing. A powerful and much appreciated thing. The comfort comes when our children are remembered. If we cry when our child's name is brought up, you don't create those tears. They're always only a heartbeat away. And, in most cases, those are tears from a grateful heart for remembering us. We appreciate so much that our children are not forgotten because once they die, they create no more memories. I never realized Brendon's past was so important until his future died.

As our support diminishes, we sometimes think our kids don't matter anymore to others. When friends and family stop talking about them, stop saying their name or remembering birth and death days, we think our kids are no longer important in their lives. Ultimately it's only us who needs to remember our kids, but when others do it's very, very nice. By speaking their name, sharing a memory, a photo or memento you're also validating us as parents. My son is dead, but I will always be his father. His death took his life on earth, but it didn't take our relationship. I still talk to him, wish him a good day and ask him to visit. I can no longer actively parent Bren, but I now see myself as the parent and caretaker of his memories.

A father's grief differs from a mother's in that our grief also encompasses the role of the protector. And the possible guilt of not having been able to do that for our kids. As the father, one of our responsibilities as defined by our culture (and maybe all cultures) is to safeguard our children from harm. "Daddy will protect me" is learned from an early age. When they died, many fathers experience extreme guilt because they didn't feel they did their job. Why didn't I take away the keys? Why didn't I see the symptoms earlier and act on them? Why? Why? That guilt can be hard to let go. I'm fortunate in that I never had that issue on my plate. But, I do know that "letting go" has been one of the most productive things I've done for myself. Especially letting go of the expectations of myself and exprectations of what I think others want me to be.

I've come to realize that grieving and healing are synonymous terms. As we grieve we heal. Conversely, if we don't grieve, it's much harder to heal. It took a long time for me to understand that for myself. I used to think that grieving made my life worse. How could my tears and pain be doing me any good? But, I now know that the tears, release of anger, talking, sharing and confronting my pain are all part of my grief work which has helped me heal. Just like any other job, we have to do our work to reap the benefits. Grief work is the hardest job I will ever have.

I miss Bren with all my heart and soul, but I would not give up one moment of my pain if it meant giving up one moment of my love. I miss Bren so much because I love Bren so much.

Rob Anderson

A Father's Journey Through Grief
(The Comfort Company)
http://www.thecomfortcompany.net/generic27.html