Remember, It’s OK: Loss of a Child

"It was interesting to hold Remember, It’s OK: Loss of a Child in my hands. It felt different right from the get-go. The cover was gentle, and that was what I needed when we lost our son: gentleness.

The open window on the cover was like a soft invitation. I remember those early days of loss; it was like nothing else existed. If someone had presented me with just this cover, I would have begun to feel hope sooner.

I also remember feeling so alone in my grief. I longed to hear a voice that said what I was feeling. Reading the words in the Remember book expressed what I was feeling, and I realized I was not alone.

This book showed me there are different ways to express grief, and the power of poetry is often forgotten. Poems get to the soul quickly. I liked having the poems and prose Moments. They spoke to me differently.

The flow of the book through colours was an opening experience. When we lost our child, all I could feel was dark. The use of colour in itself was a new language. New colours in my monochromatic place. I hated people telling me what stage I was in—like they suddenly could figure me out and that made it all better. That wasn’t how it was for me. This book was a gentle invitation to see my grief journey in a new way. I liked that; I needed that. I also needed the help and blank page suggestions to write things down. I like that this book also becomes my own journal of healing.

I believe this book will bring comfort to so many. Thank you so much for writing it.”

- A.P.B., Business owner

Inside: Remember, It’s OK: Loss of a Child

Foreward

As I write this, I’m anticipating the eighth anniversary of my beloved son’s death. It’s unbelievable that so many years have gone by, because the details of that day are still fresh in my memory—and in my heart. The best way I can describe the feeling is to say I suffer the passage of time. I resent that the breaths between the moment I last saw him, held him, and looked into his eyes for the final time are too many. I want his presence to be just a breath away. I miss him more than words. And I’m fairly certain you know just what I mean. This book will not erase your pain. It won’t obliterate the hurt, the anguish, the sorrow, or the heartbreak. But it might offer you the simple reassurance that you can survive as others who have lost cherished children have survived. This book is a written echo of the voices of those mothers and fathers, grandfathers and grandmothers, sisters, and brothers whose shared pain runs through each of us whose child has died.

There are many books and writings that offer us solace in our mourning. Elizabeth Kübler-Ross’s work is often cited as we try to understand loss, and her stages of grief can seem to suggest that progress through this heartbreak is predictable and perhaps even finite. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work that way. Kübler-Ross’s work was tremendously important in helping us to understand end-of-life preparation—palliative, anticipatory grief—but not grief following the death of one we love.

This book, Remember, It’s OK; Loss of a Child, is grounded in grief theory, but it also offers an understanding of grief that’s realistic, flexible, and attuned to the process we actually live. It does this by sharing our reflections—real stories from survivors of heartwrenching loss.

Authors Marina L. Reed and Marian Grace Boyd have created a platform of colours—similar to a pain scale we use with children—each colour suggesting the power of emotions that ebb and flow.

From intense red to orange, yellow, green, turquoise, and pale blue, each colour section reflects the increased ease with which we take sips of breath as we experience stronger, weaker, raging, gentler feelings in our in ever-changing dance of loss. Reed and Boyd have given us a watercolour of emotional phases that have no structured order—just gentle understanding and reflections of our healing path.

Following the devastating and life-altering death of our children, we can become attuned to each moment of our continuing existence. We can experience a heightened awareness of each ephemeral thought, each fleeting picture and poignant memory. Sometimes we can cope with our emotions, but at other times we are at a loss to calm our hearts of the painful pieces in order to maintain our daily journeys. It’s in those moments that this book will become an ally in a healing journey. Carry it with you. Read the pieces that speak to you. Use the pages to document your thoughts—to write and draw your sorrow and growth. And as the pages become dog-eared, full of the road map you’ve followed, you might find you’ve learned to breathe more easily.

Katherine Elliott

Clinical Social Worker