The Compassionate Friends
Seattle–King County Chapter 

JANUARY - FEBRUARY 2006

CATCHING OUR BREATH AND TAKING STOCK
by John Gass, TCF, Tacoma-Pierce County Chapter, WA
An editorial written by John in Feb. 1998 when he served as newsletter editor for the chapter

Each of us reading this newsletter has something in common this month. Whether we wanted to or not, we survived the “holidays.”

     February offers most of us a chance to catch our breath, and to try to regain some semblance of composure. With the exception of a few relatively minor – non-threatening - exceptions (Valentines Day and Presidents Day) we get a breather from the assault that major holidays can be. (However, there are those of us who still must struggle with birthdays or remembrance days in this too-short month.)

     For Nancy and I, this is a time to sort of take stock of our lives. We look back on what we just went through. For us it begins in October with our sons’ remembrance day and continues through Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and finally, New Years. We reflect on what we did or did not do during those three long months. We talk about what worked for us, or what did not work, and how we feel about it all. We also talk about things that we might want to do differently next year (we underscore might because we do not know what changes will have occurred after we get another year of grief work under our belts).

     Regardless of whether we see the holidays as a success or disaster, we survived them. And as bereaved parents who are very aware of the effort we put into our grief work, we take a sort of pride in that accomplishment (try explaining that concept to someone with no grief experience).

     But taking stock and catching our breath is not just a time to look backward. Depending on where you are in your grief work, this time can be used for focusing on your present or even for mapping out where you want to go from here.

     All too soon that “family oriented” calendar will be presenting Easter, Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, Graduations and Summer Vacations for us to deal with. Nancy and I have reached a point where we are able to maintain somewhat of a grip on our “anticipatory fears” and, using our “survivor’s resolve,” we look to what growth we hope to experience in the upcoming year. It is in this spirit that we have tried to select articles and poems that highlight reflection, growth and strength for this month’s newsletter.

     Take care and peace be with you ... John.

 THIS IS MY LOVE LETTER TO YOU ON VALENTINE’S DAY
Lindy McClean, TCF, Medford, OR

      When Sarah died I thought my heart would never again feel anything except pain. I was so overwhelmed with grief. My thoughts and feelings were only of my own tragedy. And then I met you.
     You shared your sorrow and your tears with me. I learned of your loss, your life, your child now gone. And my heart was broken for you - my weary heart that I thought would never care about anyone else ever again.
     When you shared the hurting, vulnerable, intimate core of yourself with me, my heart was revived. When you trusted me to know your precious child and your bruised love for this one who was the delight of your heart, my exhausted soul was encouraged.
     Your words comfort me. Your hugs strengthen me. Your tears quench my thirst.
     As I see you heal, I know that I’ll also become whole again. When I hear you laugh, I trust that lightness will one day return to my heart.
     Thank you for being my compassionate friend.
     I love you.

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