Amazing Stories

Our Chick-fil-A Birthday Dinner

As you know, we marked Charlotte's 7th birthday on Monday.  The day included laughter, tears, hugs, an honorary mention on WCVE, dinner at Chick-Fil-A, a chocolate milk toast, and a showing of Finding Nemo. Roger and I were touched by the sweet messages we received as well as the generous donations made to the foundation in her honor that day. 


On Friday morning, I turned to Roger and said, "Wow! It sure has been a long week. Monday seems like a long time ago."  He agreed.  Between the emotional exhaustion at the beginning of the week, the Wine Down event on Wednesday in which we raised $1000 for CJSTUF (hurrah!), and the normal business of our jobs, it had proven to be a very long week, indeed.  


Then came Friday.  I ventured off to my job at the Dominion School and Roger had the opportunity to participate in the Moriah McNeil Celebrity Golf Classic to benefit ReeseStrong.  One of the generous patrons of the organization had bought an extra foursome and donated it for use by dads of pediatric cancer patients.  Roger joined Reese's dad and a few other guys for a beautiful day on the links.  

Roger, Walter Klauer, & Emanuel McNeil

Moriah's dad, Emanuel McNeil, is a former NFL football player. He lost his daughter Moriah to cancer in 2004 and organizes this charity golf tournament every year in her honor.  The proceeds benefit a different children's charity annually.  With these connections, it made sense that quite a few NFL players would be hitting the links.  It wasn't until Roger reached the tournament, however, that he realized some of these guys were the same football players who came and sang Frosty the Snowman to Charlotte on a hot summer day when we were holed up in the ASK clinic for a treatment in 2009.  The visit had been a huge hit with Charlotte and had even been featured on the CBS news (briefly).  As Roger talked about this with the football players, many of them mentioned remembering Charlotte.  Then one guy pulled out his phone and showed us this video.  

He has had this video on his phone since 2009.  Roger was floored! 

In the meantime, among my many meetings of the day, I was scheduled to interview a potential instructional assistant for the Dominion School.  The young lady arrived at the scheduled time and we began to talk about her work history and why she was seeking employment with us.  I asked her to say a little bit about why she liked her job and she told me this story. She works at Build-a-Bear. 


"I really love being able to see the happy faces on the children.  A few years ago, I had the opportunity to work with a family that came into our store.  The little girl was about 3 or 4 years old and she was sick.  She came into the store after hours with her best friend and together they made creations for her, her parents, and her best friend. We were so touched by this little girl and found out a few weeks later that she had passed away.  I still think about her a lot and how we were able to make her happy."

Our creations from Build-a-Bear,
including Frosty the Bad-Ass

As I sat there listening to her story, I realized where this was going.  I was near tears as I listened to her accounting of our very own Build-a-Bear visit.  I was thinking, "Should I say something? Is that appropriate?" Finally, I realized I needed to tell her.  I said, "I hope this doesn't upset you, but I need to let you know, that's my daughter you're talking about." I pointed towards the picture of Charlotte on my desk and the girl's jaw dropped to the floor.  She said, "Oh my goodness! That's her! We have her picture in our office at the store and I still think about her and talk about her all the time!"  We both started crying.  


Eventually, we composed ourselves and carried on with the rest of the interview.  On my way home from work, I got a message from Roger that he had something interesting to tell me.  I told him that I had a great story for him as well.  We met up and recounted these stories to each other in disbelief and amazement.  


I don't always believe in "signs" or messages, but perhaps these simple, touching stories delivered to both Roger and myself on the same day are a way of showing us that Charlotte continues to touch people's lives as much in death as she did in life. Of course, I think of our girl every single day. But it warms my heart in unimaginable ways to realize that she had such a profound impact on people who are virtual strangers.  


That, my friends, is the best birthday present anyone could ask for.  Don't you agree?

"One G*# D*&#ed Chocolate Chip Cookie"

Or better yet, "That Damned Kiss." - A Mighty Wind

Or slightly more diffused, "You know you've ruined it for me..." - Out Of Africa

We all have had events in our lives where one little detail eventually became more than just a detail in the overall fabric of our experience.  It morphed into an major element of the plot, influencing further development and screwing up your plan for where you thought you were going.  This butterfly did that to me:

A few days ago, Rachel came in the house and said, "Have you seen the new butterfly?"

We both went out and she showed me the purple butterfly that someone had covertly attached to Homer the Pine Tree overhanging CJ's Butterfly Bush.  We occasionally find things on or around CJ left by people we didn't see and they are always appreciated but I think I must have been in a certain frame of mind to receive this certain butterfly because it changed the course of my psyche.

Rachel and I had just come back from our vacation (it was fabulous, in case you hadn't heard) and I wasn't ready to get back into reality.  On top of that, I had been having lots of little "moments" that were weighing me down.  Moments brought on by the weirdest things.  Like hearing a song or being in a place where Charlotte had been. The bus was certainly back, parked squarely on my chest, and my "woe-is-me" song writing machine was picking up speed.  And a part of me was ready to stay on that path for a while. There's value (at least to me) in feeling the pain.  At least when I feel the pain, I know I'm remembering her. (I hate "at leasts")

And then I saw that damned butterfly.  It wasn't like the weight was lifted or anything too dramatic like that but it reminded me that people are thinking of us, which is comforting, and that I need to get my head on straight.  It even altered the direction of one of the songs I had been working on for a long time.

The problem is that it was fixing to be a pretty good sad song before then.  Now it's all confused and I may have to break it up into two different songs that sound a lot alike.

Be that as it may, the song writing machine (along with my attitude) has come out of its nose-dive and has leveled off for now.  The moments are still there, nothing has changed in that respect, but I'm at least able to deal with them for the time being.

Thanks to whoever placed that damned butterfly.

In other news, the Foundation is ending the year with both good and bad news.  The good news is that we were able to help 30 families, one way or another, to the tune of $14,000. That takes the total amount of aid since incorporation to around $27,000 in two years.  (We thought we were closer to $30K for a while but it still ain't too shabby)

The bad news is that we still have 13 families on the waiting list.  That's $6,500 if you want an amount.  We're really hoping that some last minute fundraising opportunities will help narrow that gap.

One not-so-last-minute FUN-raiser is the Ukrop's Monument Avenue 10K on March 31, 2012.  TEAM CJ will be in effect and there are different ways you can get involved:

1 - Join TEAM CJ, collect pledges, and run in the 10k.  If you commit to raising $500 or more, CJSTUF will give you a code to register for free!

2 - Go to MY fund raising page and make a pledge.  My goal for all of TEAM CJ is $10,000 but if I could do that personally, wouldn't that be totally cool!?!  The Mother Runners are going to be involved somehow. We haven't solidified details but there may be a pink running skirt involved! :-)

3 - Be a cheer-er for TEAM CJ along the route.  We need spirit, we know we do! We need spirit, how about YOU!?!

By the way, there are new racing shirts (real running shirts!) for all Team CJ participants!

GO TEAM CJ!!!

January will also be "Remember CJ Month" when participating stores will be donating up to 5% of sales for the month to CJSTUF.  Our first participant will be the Bed Corner in Stonewall Square in Mechanicsville.  Come buy a bed or mattress in January and help CJSTUF!

If you own a business or know of one that would be interested in participating, have them contact us asap.

I think that's all for now.  I'm sure Rachel will be back on with something I've forgotten.

Bye for now,

Roger

p.s. If you want me to explain the chocolate chip cookie reference, please let me know.

Supporting a family when a child dies

Roger and I attended a beautiful memorial reception today for another brave cancer warrior.  Little Lois lost the battle with Leukemia.  She was a little over three years of age. 

I realized that this was the first memorial that I attended for another child since Charlotte died last year.  The event was positive, bright, filled with children, and filled with smiles.  I hope that it was all Lois's family wanted it to be. 

At times like this, I am reminded of how difficult it can be to support those who are grieving.  When a child dies, there are many who are caught in the wake of loss.  It is hard to know what to say, how to say it, or whether to say anything at all. 

Are there rules? Well, yes and no.  Since each person grieves in their own way, I am not sure if there is always a right or wrong answer to some questions.  That being said, my experience has caused me to realize that there are some phrases that jar a grieving parent like fingernails on a chalkboard.  If you are supporting someone who is grieving, here's some food for thought:

Ban the phrase "at least" from your vocabulary.  In the midst of acute grief, there is no bright side to things.  This is a time to allow the family their sadness.  At least she didn't suffer or At least you have other children or At least you can still have children.  NOT HELPFUL.  At the moment, life sucks.  in fact, it's going to suck for a while. It's ok to acknowledge it.

Be cautious in your use of religious metaphors or talk of heaven.  This is probably very individual, but please remember that not everyone shares the same beliefs in life, death, heaven, or an afterlife.  Some parents take serious offense to the idea of their child as "an angel in heaven" because that is not how they imagine them to be after death.  Further, the phrase know that she is in a better place is particularly bothersome.  In my mind, there is no better place for Charlotte to be than with me.  Here on Earth.  It is not necessarily comforting (even if I believe in heaven and the afterlife) to think that she is somewhere else.  In fact, sometimes the use of that phrase is extremely painful to the person who is grieving. 

Don't ask about their plans (or lack thereof) to have more children. If this information is not offered by the parent directly, it's not up for discussion. You may wonder how they feel but for most parents, it's a difficult and possibly painful topic.  This is true whether the child's loss was one week ago or three years ago.  Know that if you ask this question, you are treading on dangerous ground.

Sometimes there are no words. We struggle in these situations to find the right words but sometimes, there is nothing to say. There are no answers. We don't know the reasons why. Sometimes the best thing you can do is just sit with, cry with, laugh with, or hug the grieving person.  It's ok if you don't have all the answers. You can be a friend just by letting them know that you are there.

Remember that grief has no timetable. Everyone grieves on their own schedule. There is no designated time when a person will be over it. Grief ebbs and flows. It tends to fade over time. Some people get stuck and may need some additional support to approach a sense of "normal" but be careful not to project your feelings or expectations on another person's process grieving a loss. 

The last thing I will say is that the most important factor in the process a grieving family endures is the support the community can offer them. I think often of the phrase, "Our thoughts and prayers are with you." If I had a nickel for every time I heard that phrase or saw it written in a card or email, I could finance a new wing of the hospital.  Individually, the phrase carried no weight.  It was just something to fill the void when no other words seemed right.  On the other hand, when I would read comments on our blog or Facebook pages or look at the piles and piles of cards that had been sent from all over the world, I felt the impact of that phrase.  Our thoughts and prayers are with you. Can you imagine? There were hundreds...no, thousands,...of individuals thinking of us, sending positive vibes, and praying for us.  It created an energy force that was strong and comforting at the same time.  It was like a huge, soft blanket on which we could break the freefall that had become our lives.  And for that I continue to be grateful.