We Remember Them - Finding Comfort in Tears

Rarely am I awake, dressed and ready to leave the comfort of my house by 9:30 a.m. on a Saturday.  Yesterday, however, was unusual.  It was the day of Children's Hospital's annual remembrance service, when staff joins family to offer support and to reflect on the children who died while in their care.  Over the past five years, I've attended four times. 
​
The first year, the event was held just a few short months after Kitty's death.  'Emotional' doesn't exactly describe how I felt during the service.

 I was in a fog for a long time after the accident: exhausted, shocked, saddened, angry and confused, on top of being emotional.  Yesterday, four years later, I glanced around the room at the newly bereaved families and all of those feelings and emotions came rushing back.  I saw parents, grandparents, siblings, aunts and uncles with tears on their cheeks, some sobbing, all demonstrating the deep love they had for their child, grandchild, sister, brother, niece or nephew. 

Typically, families are invited to the program twice, the year of their child's death and again the following year.  But because Mandy serves on the Bereavement Advisory Team at Children's, we have been fortunate for the opportunity to take part a few extra times.  While the format remains the same, the readings and songs change and I am able to find comfort in sharing space with like-minded grandparents.​  We are a kindred spirit.

To my own surprise, I caught myself off guard this year.  I was well prepared for the words Mandy would read, the songs performed by the Children's Staff Choir, the slide show of the children being remembered, the candles being lit as each child's name was spoken, even for the release of the butterflies.  What I was not prepared to see were tears shed by the chief of staff, a doctor in the oncology unit, who recognized some of the families in the room.  He was one of two people leading a 'Litany of Remembrance' taken from "Gates of Prayer," New Union Prayer Book:
 
ONE:  In the rising of the sun and its going down,
ALL:  We remember them. ​

ONE:  In the blowing of the wind and in the chill of winter,​
ALL:  We remember them.

ONE:  In the opening of the buds and in the rebirth of spring,
ALL:  We remember them.​​

ONE:  In the blueness of the skies and in the warmth of summer,
ALL:  We remember them.​

ONE:  In the rustling of leaves and in the beauty of autumn,
​ALL:  We remember them.​​

ONE:  In the beginning of the year and when it ends,
ALL:  We remember them.​

ONE:  When we are weary and in need of strength,
ALL:  We remember them.​

ONE:  When we are lost and sick at heart,
ALL:  We remember them.​

ONE:  When we have joys we crave to share,
ALL:  We remember them.​

ONE:  As long as we live, they too shall live; for they are now a part of us,
ALL:  As we remember them.

As we reached 'when we are weary and in need of strength​,' I started to cry.  I was not able to continue reciting the litany.  The Dasher was sitting on my lap and she stared into my face with her round, inquiring eyes, but she didn't ask.  She just wrapped her little 3-year-old arms around my neck and held tight.  The litany ended, another song was performed, a few announcements were read and we were ushered outdoors for the release of the butterflies.

I hadn't realized earlier, but as we rose to go out, sitting immediately behind us, among others, were the doctor who read the litany and the Senior Director of Child and Family Services, who also spoke during the program.  It was ironic, I thought that the Senior Director's name was Joy.  ​As I passed her on my way to the door, I saw that she, too, had been crying.  I hadn't noticed this in past years - tears on the faces of staff and administration.  In an odd way, it was good to see ... good to be made aware of the compassion that staff members have for their patients and extended families.  It is a special kind of caring that surpasses any medical services provided.

When Kitty died, one of the nurses from Children's came to her visitation.  The ER doctor and another nurse attended Kitty's funeral.  The emotional reaction of the doctor and the director yesterday reminded me of the support shown to Mandy and son-in-law by the medical personnel who took precious time to be present.  This had been a first for us: medical providers paying their respects at a family funeral.  The local hospital personnel who treated Kitty showed that they cared.  The staff at Children's Hospital continues to care.  There is great comfort simply in knowing ​that the professionals who tended our deceased grandchildren also mourn and share in our sorrow.  

As well as remembering and reflecting on my own granddaughter, each memorial service I attend graces me with a new perspective, a realization, a fresh outlook.  I will continue to participate for as long as I am welcome.  If you have not had the opportunity to experience a remembrance service, I encourage you to do so.  Aside from Children's Hospital, most churches and some grief coalitions hold services in either the fall or spring seasons.  The pastoral care staff  at your church, hospital or local funeral home can provide information on opportunities in your area, if you would like more information.
​
When we are weary and in need of strength,
We remember them.​

---