Time Away: Remembering and Honoring My Deceased Grandchild

It's no secret and you've most likely noticed: I've been on hiatus.  It was a bit longer than planned, but was definitely not without thoughts of Kitty Rose.  In fact, most of the time that I've been away from the blog was spent in her memory - remembering, writing, talking about and honoring her.

Last spring, I was asked to team up with Mandy to speak at a local grief support session on the topic of forgiveness.  The organizers wondered: 'How do you forgive the person responsible for the death of your child/grandchild … especially when that person is your husband and son-in-law?'  It was a question with an answer that they personally could not comprehend and they requested both of our perspectives.  It was mid-September when we were scheduled to tell our stories.

In June, I was invited to be a panelist at the annual Trauma Conference at Children's Hospital in Minneapolis.  The event, held in late July, is attended by trauma department employees and local EMTs with the purpose of improving the patient-family experience for other families during a trauma situation.  

For Christmas last year, I received a copy of "The Artist's Way", by Julia Cameron.  You may know or have heard of this book as it is mentioned occasionally by speakers at grief groups and by pastoral ministers.  Let me tell you - this book is not your average mystery, thriller or romance novel that many of us enjoy and then set aside after a period of entertainment.  Rather, "The Artist's Way" is a program, a course, a 12-week journey into recovery of your creative self.  It involves digging deep within and recalling past events, times, places and people you cherished and, yes, even some that you didn't love so much.  The purpose is not only recovery of those beloved memories, but also to use them to gain positivity, a shift in attitude to 'I am willing, I am capable, I can and I will … with the help of God.'  It is a spiritual journey, one I planned to take during the summer when Mandy was on break and babysitting duties weren't as demanding.

On top of that, I decided to toss in the 6-week online class offered by Northwestern University, "Navigating Grief with Humor", taught by Dr. Melissa Mork.  'Humor' in this course was not 'ha-ha' humor, but rather, in the sense of being in a good frame of mind.

These commitments that I made to myself and to others - an emotional speech about forgiveness, a factual presentation about the trauma experience, an eagerly anticipated book and a last minute college class - devoured my summer and beyond.  For four months, I was wrapped in this cocoon of busy-ness, each task with it's own unique purpose.  Yet, there was a common thread that bound them all together: my dear little Kitty.  

Every day of the past four months, I relived so many moments: the weekend of the accident, time spent at the hospitals where Kitty was treated, the day she died, her funeral planning, the visitation and service and the many, many difficult days, weeks and months that followed.  I reflected on my personal grief journey and I 'dug deep' to find just the right words needed to tell my story of forgiveness that may be helpful for others struggling with the loss of a grandchild.

Then - after all of my emotionally draining work was done - I went on vacation. 

Now, I am back with the hope that my summer endeavors and adventures can bring more value to my writing, to better help others along their grief journey.  We're less than two weeks from celebrating the feast of All Souls, an appropriate time to return to these pages, to reflect and to support one another as a community, united in our grief, our love and our hope.