THE NEW NORMAL

Saint Paul, Minnesota Chapter

"We Need Not Walk Alone"

The "New Normal"

In a matter of days, it will be the end of another year. Most everyone is talking about what they will do in the new year and what resolutions they will make (and, in my case, soon break). Maybe they will resolve to lose some weight, begin exercise program, take up a new hobby or sign up for some educational refresher courses. After all, they now have a shiny new year to begin new and rid themselves of those extra pounds or maybe shake the cobwebs out of their stagnant brains.

However, for who have had the title 'bereaved parent' sorrowfully thrust upon them, the above seems inconsequential. For them, everything has changed since the death of their child, especially their priorities. What was once so important is now comparatively trivial. What once gave them pleasure now feels somehow significant. Rather than make plans for a 'new, year', there are many who must learn to live with what has now become for them the 'new normal.'

Oftentimes when someone comes to a TCF meeting for the first time, they will mention something that they haw been thinking or doing and are worried that they haw 'lost their mind' and that everyone else in the group will think they are 'crazy.' For example, before Nina died I wouldn't venture into a cemetery even if it were broad daylight. I wouldn't even look in the direction of one. In short, the idea of just being at a cemetery frightened me. But after Nina died, I often made midnight treks to the cemetery alone. I spent time there decorating the site of her grave with balloons and windsocks indicating the season or an upcoming holiday while playing her favorite CD's. I remember the heartbreaking paradox of those first holidays and birthdays when I should haw been shopping for her gifts, instead walking through the stores looking for just the perfect item to add to the grave: site 'decor'. Surely I
was going totally insane! I was almost afraid to mention this to the other bereaved parents in my TCF group. But these same
parents reassured me that if I felt the need to go to the cemetery, for whatever reason and whatever time, day or night, or wanted to decorate Nina's burial place (sadly, one of the only ways I could continue to be a parent to my daughter), that while maybe not the norm for those untouched by grief, for me and other bereaved parents it was.

We would never haw imagined this way of thinking would become a normal way of life for us. That each major family celebration or event would be marred by sadness that our child wasn't there to share in it. That we would speak of funerals, memorial services, cremation, accident reports and death certificates just as if they were commonplace things that everyone spoke of, and when we stepped back and really thought about it, were horrified by the way it sounds - horrified that for us this had become 'normal.' For those with surviving children, when they were late from somewhere, counting the seconds and feeling sick to our stomachs upon hearing the wail of an ambulance... again, for many of us, the new normal.

Just recently a dear friend, who is also a bereaved parent, and I were standing in the parking lot talking about how we hoped that the ground at the cemetery wouldn't be frozen yet so we could still pound in the metal stakes from the latest wind chimes we had purchased for our child's grave. We then spoke of the ways we knew of how to get around that if it was (such as, put hot water in a thermos to bring to the grave site in order to thaw the ground). We then shook our heads and forlornly chuckled at what we had just spoken of, knowing how absurd anyone but another bereaved parent would find our conversation.

I don't believe there has ever been a meeting that a newly bereaved parent has attended where a measure of confidence in their sanity wasn't restored upon learning from others that what they were feeling was natural for someone who has experienced the death of a child. When they mention how they continually lose their keys or can't remember where they put an item five seconds after they set it down, or how just merely walking down the cereal aisle at the grocery store and seeing their child's favorite brand made them leave everything in their shopping cart and flee the store, or how they swear they saw their child's face in a passing car or in a crowd of people, they can look around the circle of our TCF group meetings and watch as we rod our heads in acknowledgment, for we haw experienced the same. Even though our stories are different and we cant know exactly what each other is feeling, we, more than anyone, come closest, and can validate each others so-called 'crazy thoughts' with the reassurance that what is felt and experienced is, for us, the 'new normal.'

Attending those first few meetings were difficult, but I am so glad that I found my TCF friends. I believe that it truly has been my salvation. Though I wish I could have the old normal back, I am eternally grateful to the others at our TCF meetings who have helped me learn to live with and adjust to this unwanted role of bereaved parent. If you have never attended one or it has been a while since you have, I hope that you will come to a meeting. There are many of us who want to give back and to help by assisting you in your passage through the 'new normal.'

~Cathy Seehuetter TCF/St. Paul, MN

reprinted from St. Paul, MN TCF Chapter
January/February 2003 Newsletter

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