Sunday, March 11, 2018
Time is the greatest gift. Many caregivers have told me that caregiving locks them into whirlwind daily routines of attending to others’ needs. Above all else, they miss time for themselves — to go to the salon or bank, read a book, clean the house or catch up on sleep. The greatest comfort you may offer is the gift of time. Offer to sit with care receivers while caregivers take a break. Pick up supplies for caregivers so they can stay home and relax. Try to make yourself available to listen as often as they need to vent."
How to Really Help a Family Caregiver
When a Grieving Mother Talks, Listen - The New York Times:
National Suicide Prevention Hotline: Let’s Talk About Suicide – Spencer J. Cox – Medium
"As the students were leaving, a 13-year old girl asked if she could give me a hug. “Of course!” I replied. As she hugged me, she whispered in my ear, “Thank you for talking about suicide. I’ve been thinking about it for a long time, and I needed to hear you say that today.” We moved to the corner and talked for a minute. I told her we desperately need her on this earth. She promised me she would stay. She cried. I cried. We hugged again. I grabbed her teachers and administrators, and they promised they would follow up with her and get her the help she needs. I went back to my office with a lump in my throat and cried some more. Life is so precious. Kids can be impulsive. So, let’s do this together. Let’s lock up our guns. Let’s all download the SafeUT app. Let’s put away our phones and start connecting more. And — seriously — let’s start talking about suicide."
Let’s Talk About Suicide – Spencer J. Cox – Medium
Saturday, March 10, 2018
When You Meet Someone Deep in Grief
Slip off your needs
and set them by the door.
this darkened chapel
hollowed by loss
hollowed by sorrow
its gray stone walls
are here to listen
not to sing.
Kneel in the back pew
make no sound
let the candles
Patricia McKernon Runkle
Wednesday, March 7, 2018
The Grieving Need You Most After the Funeral
Sunday, March 4, 2018
"I’m sad for all the things I won’t get to do, read, eat, watch, play with — but mostly I am sorry that I am going to break my own child’s heart. When you would do literally anything to protect him, to know that you’re completely powerless to do so is profoundly … what’s the word for as awful as awful gets?...I told him the least I think he needed to know. I have cancer, and it’s a more serious illness than a cold or a flu. I told him what chemotherapy was in the most child-friendly way I could, and that I would lose my hair. He handled that too, and although he started getting up at least once after he was in bed, looking for nothing more than an extra hug, he didn’t ask any questions.When my hair fell out, he was mostly concerned that I would embarrass him by showing up bald at school. I assured him I would, of course....If I won’t be around to show him how to live well, the least I can do is show him how to die well."
I Have Cancer and I’m Dying and I’m Ready to Tell My Son | Learning