<p>A couple in my neighborhood has lost their only child at age 13 as a result of a tragic accident. We (their friends, neighbors, colleagues) feel so helpless. Please share your ideas with regard to showing them support in the days, weeks, months to come.</p>
<p>This is a massive, horrendous and heartbreaking situation. My parent’s lost my sister at age three and my brother at age 22. The only thing you can do is just offer very simple ways of support like stopping by with a meal or food and/or deserts that they can have at their leisure. I am sure family, coworkers,and parent’s of their child’s friends will be dropping by and the last thing they are thinking is preparing meals. You can offer to run any simple errands. Even if they do not take your offers they will appreciate your heartfelt gestures.</p>
<p>There are also some very good books that you can get them that may give them some spiritual support. I was given a great book at the time called, “When Bad things happen to Good People.” I Don’t remember the author’ name but it was extremely comforting.</p>
<p>I can’t offer too much help, but I can share that a fews years back when I was the HR person for an office we had an employee who lost a child and another employee who had been thru the same thing a few years before suggested that we NEVER send flowers or even plants as part of condolences. He said there was nothing more depressing than watching flowers or plants die when dealing with that tremendous loss too. He suggested donations to appropriate charities (in his case leukemia foundation) or to the family’s church or to send meals or gift baskets.</p>
<p>When my dad died, my mom liked the flowers people sent. So YMMV about sending flowers; use your judgement since many people appreciate flowers.</p>
<p>If you have any pictures of the child, send them along. Write the grieving parents a letter on paper, including specific memories of the child. They’ll be able to save and reread your story.</p>
<p>For now, organize food, housecleaning and laundry. The bereaved family might not be able to even think of those mundane tasks. Appealing food in small, snackable amounts can tempt someone with no appetite to eat. Those Edible Arrangements are pretty and taste good too-- plus they’re healthy food.</p>
<p>In the months to come, when you talk to the family, mention the child. Remember the child’s birthday with a card or letter.</p>
<p>Be involved with them. Don’t ignore them just because you don’t know what to say. Never say he is in a better place, or that God has a plan. When I lost a baby 8 years ago, I hated those two saying more than anything. The fact is I wanted my daughter here and I had my own plans. I was angry at God. My dreams were shattered. Those feelings are very normal. My heart breaks for this family. An only child. Dear Lord I don’t know if I could have handled that.</p>
<p>If their son was passionate about something, music, soccer, baseball, honor that. Have everyone you know write about a time that their son made an impression their life. Bind the book and give it to them. Probably too painful to read now, but later it will be a great comfort.</p>
<p>**Just a side note. Some of my greatest comfort came from friends that just wrapped me in my their arms, tears flowing and said, “I have no idea what to say…I am just so very sorry.” That was okay because I didn’t know what to say either.</p>
<p>I agree with the posters who suggested sharing memories of the child with the parents.</p>
<p>Fourteen years ago a student of mine died in a horrible accident that happened in the afternoon shortly after school had gotten out. I realized she had spent her last day with me. I wrote her parents a letter describing in detail everything I could remember about her and what she had done that day, from the moment she walked in the classroom until dismissal. It had actually been a great day in our classroom giving me happy memories to share on a tragic day. I ran into her mom quite a few years later and she hugged and thanked me for my letter. She read it often and cherished the memory I had shared.</p>
<p>masslou ^ BUand BC82 makes a beautiful suggestion, At the age of 13 he certainly has teachers in the community that knew him well and would be honored to share their memories with his parents if asked. Perhaps you, or another neighbor, could contact the school and talk to the administration.
I believe the comment kerrbo made regarding flowers/plants was specific to loosing a child. CF is correct, use your best judgement.</p>
<p>I agree about the flowers. My mother hated cut flower arrangements and the smell of flowers ever since my sister died. She did not like to send and she never ever wanted to receive them again.</p>
<p>What about mowing their lawn, weeding their flower beds, doing the grocery shopping or offering to gas up their cars? The day to day chores are probably being ignored right now.</p>
<p>I’m the mother of an only child, thankfully still with us. She’s an adult now, but she’ll always be my child. I don’t think I could survive losing her. No parent should ever have to bury a child. My heart goes out to them.</p>
<p>Lots of people will be bringing food, sending gift baskets, etc. Not only do the parents not want to think about preparing meals, they are likely not to be hungry either. There will be a lot of food tossed once their freezer gets full.</p>
<p>I agree about the “I’m so sorry.” </p>
<p>But I think the greater support will come in the months following the funeral. After the crowds are gone and all have gone back to their own lives. That’s when it’s often the loneliness. That’s when I think you can be of help - don’t forget about them and their loss. It won’t be new to you, but for a long time, it will be new and raw to them. They’ll still want to talk about the child, even when you’re finished with it.</p>
<p>Go and listen.</p>
<p>My brother died in a car accident when he was 24. It was a terrible time for our familly, and is still difficult 15 years later. One of our neighbors, who had watched all of us grow up, sent a long letter to my parents telling stories from the time my brother was a baby. Like the time he decided to pick all the beets in my Dad’s garden and sell them on the road, or the time her son and my other brother hauled him up a tree on a rope and dropped him, resulting in a broken leg for the first day of kindergarten. Those memories were treasures that were heartfelt and comforting.</p>
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<p>Yes. This is the most important thing you can do for your neighbors. </p>
<p>My only two siblings died in tragic accidents as teenagers. Today, my parents still talk about their appreciation for friends who called and dropped by regularly in the months after the accidents. That’s when the reality of life without a precious child sets in, and that’s when a grieving parent needs the most support. </p>
<p>Don’t be afraid to mention the child by name. Parents need to know that others remember their child and recognize their tremendous loss.</p>
<p>My very close friend lost a son when he was 19 and I spent a lot of time with her afterward. One thing that upset her very much was when people would see her and not mention it at all. Clearly they didn’t know what to say but she found it almost offensive. She also found that many people felt compelled to tell her stories of similar tragedies in their own families or that they knew of. She found all that sadness unbearable. The thing she liked the very most was when people shared stories about her son. She said she came to know more about him through those stories and that meant the world to her. </p>
<p>As months and years went by, she was astonished that people seemed to think she would have “gotten over” her grief. In many ways, it got harder, not easier, as the shock wore off and the enormity of the loss sank in. There were so many painful occasions - holidays and family occasions without him, his birthday, the anniversary of his death. The smallest things could be devastating. She moved to a new town and went to a school event where everyone had to introduce themselves. She realized that she didn’t know how many children she should say she had and found herself sobbing in the bathroom. Even watching his friends grow up, get married, and now have children of their own has been bittersweet. </p>
<p>I agree with those who have said you should try to help with some simple chore if you can. Share your memories of the child and stay in touch in the months and even years to come.</p>
<p>The adult child of my college roommate died last spring leaving behind three beautiful daughters, ages 7, 5, and 9 months, and a loving husband. My roommate became pregnant with this child while we were still roomies in college. It hit me hard because I had been there from the start, although I had little contact with her as an adult.</p>
<p>I’m still struggling with how to handle this situation, but I make a point to call her about once a month. It’s emotionally draining, because we talk about my kids for the first 30-45 minutes, and then she will start talking about her grandkids, and then she finally is able to talk about her daughter. I let her lead the conversation. Many times I was the one crying on the phone, not her.</p>
<p>She’s told me she really appreciates our talks, and I feel like I’m doing something to help her. She and I both agree that it’s not going to get any easier as time passes. Although I am just starting to heal, I don’t think she will.</p>
<p>I wish I knew how to “fix it”, but of course that is impossible. Just writing this reply is bringing emotions to the surface that is resulting in tears streaming down my face.</p>
<p>I think we all realize that losing a child is the worst thing that could ever happen to us as parents. I’ll admit that I have acquired a fear of losing one of mine since this has happened, but so far my kids have not mentioned any adverse behavior on my part.</p>
<p>I’ve called to let her know I’m thinking of her on the first birthday since her death and other holidays, but sometimes I wonder if that’s the right thing to do. I’m feeling my way and any suggestions would be appreciated.</p>
<p>One of my friends recently lost one of her young adult twin sons in a freak accident. My friend is one of those introverted people who feels overwhelmed in crowds and isn’t very in contact with her feelings. She is the type of person who - -when she invites me over – multitasks by making Christmas presents or something while I’m visiting.</p>
<p>I knew that her parents and sister were in our city, so I did not go over. I called, and whomever answered (I think it was another friend) told me my friend was napping, so I left a message letting her know that I had called.</p>
<p>I also e-mailed her a note letting her know that I cared, saying some nice things about her deceased son, and letting her know that if she ever wanted to meet or talk or if there was anything I could help her with, for her to immediately contact me.</p>
<p>I also mailed her and her surviving son sympathy notes. In hers, I provided information about the organization Compassionate Friends, which is for people who have lost children of any age, and I told her about a local organization that might be a support for her surviving son. </p>
<p>Another friend who had lost three children told me that often people lavish attention over grieving mothers but neglect siblings, and siblings even can be at risk of suicide due to unaddressed grief issues.</p>
<p>I went to the funeral, and talked to her a while afterward in the gathering in the church hall. I also sent follow-up e-mails and mailed her notes about 6 weeks later reiterating my support, and telling her to contact me if there was anything I could do.</p>
<p>About a week after that, I called, and left a message.</p>
<p>A couple of weeks after that, she called me and invited me to meet with her at our local farmer’s market (!). I dropped everything to do that, but then she cancelled. She invited me to a poetry reading, and I went, and got to talk to her a bit on the way over and back.</p>
<p>My friend who has lost 3 children and a grandson, told me that when her daughter and grandson were murdered, it took her 6 weeks for the tragedy to sink in. She said she was operating on autopilot, and other people thought she was fine, but she really was in shock. </p>
<p>I keep that in mind when I think of my newly grieving friend. Losing a child is something that you never get over. What can be precious is people continuing to talk about your child, sharing memories about him. It doesn’t comfort grieving parents when you don’t talk about their child. It is a comfort when you let them know that their beloved child still lives in your memory, and his or her life mattered to you.</p>
<p>Months – even a year or two after such a loss – the grief is still fresh, and the parents still need support.</p>
<p>I would rather be left alone and have my space and time and have everybody around me treating me the same as before. Different treatment will be constant reminder that would be hard to tolerate. Since you carry it in your heart forever and it could not be erased at any time, outside reminders might just put person aver an edge, just too much to handle. Knowing personalities and how they might react is extremely important, proceed with caution. What you feel obligated to do might be rubbing against the wishes of the family involved.</p>
<p>Miami - you are entirely right that different people might need different treatment. I had no idea how to deal with my friend and felt my way cautiously. When I first heard the news, my hand hovered above the phone. I just dreaded talking to her and had no idea what to say. But then I thought, if I can’t call her, who can? So I called and just said “What happened?” And I went to her house and just sat. In the weeks and months to come, I took my cues from her. I helped with things as awful as a trip to the funeral home and as mundane as taking her for a haircut. Grief does strange things. It was almost as if she had a concussion - she was spacey and forgetful. It was an awful time.</p>
<p>Everyone is different, of course, but I would say that the worst thing is not saying anything at all. Express your own feelings, express sympathy. Don’t ask “how are you doing today?” if you’re not prepared for the answer. </p>
<p>My son died almost 24 years ago (he was 2 days old and a twin). I can still have bad days but time has healed the wounds slightly. Sometimes I still get the opportunity to tell someone how joyous the first moments after his birth were, before the terror of his breathing problems and the NICU; I value that chance. It may be your friends would enjoy talking about other parts of their son’s 13 years.</p>
<p>When a cousin lost her baby shortly after birth, I wrote her a note about how this had been a pain that people had borne for eons–as evidenced by our joint family tree showing that our great-grandmother had lost two of her children at a young age–but that didn’t make it any easier to bear. I wrote about how time had helped but that it would always be painful.</p>
<p>I recently was thinking about a friend who died more than 30 years ago and wrote his brother a note. (I’d heard his brother on the radio, and it broke back so many memories!) He wrote back that his mother had been happy to know that she was not alone in still thinking about him.</p>
<p>For the immediate present, I would offer to take care of the lawn, water the plants, etc. Here in Texas, if things didn’t get watered for a few weeks, everthing would die. After that, yes just don’t avoid them. Let them guide the conversation. With my friend at work who lost her husband, sometimes my “how’s it going?” would receive an emotional response, and sometimes it would receive a “fine, how about you.” If she was in the mood to talk, I was there to listen. But if she wasn’t, I didn’t force it.</p>
<p>There is a lot of good advice on this thread. I lost my older daughter 20 years ago when she was six. Many people (most, really) don’t know what to do or say so they avoid you. In fact, many people don’t want to be friends with someone who has lost a child because it is too painful for them to see that possibility before them.</p>
<p>For now, a kind card and letter with specific memories is a lovely thing to send. My D’s preschool teacher and her counselor both did that. I still have those cards.</p>
<p>If someone is coordinating dinners, make a comforting dinner and send that along. (NO LASAGNA–too many people send that.) Possibly you could coordinate dinners. We had dinner provided for us for six weeks and it was a great help. Comforting, mild food is best–grieving people get upset digestion.</p>
<p>The specific housekeeping help is good–offering to water for them for the rest of the summer would be very helpful. Keep calling or sending a note or cards. It’s very sad when the sympathy cards stop coming.</p>
<p>The parents will be in shock for about six months. Then the real grieving and depression sets in. The whole first year is awful: all the holidays, child’s birthday, Mother’s Day, Father’s Day. A dear friend (now passed away herself) had our family over for Christmas Day dinner, which was so helpful. It was a pleasant time with another family and we didn’t have to even think about what to do that day. Another friend from preschool days called to ask if she could bring us dinner on the one-year anniversary of the death, and that was also so appreciated.</p>
<p>I have one very good friend who has also sent me a card or note on the anniversary of my D’s death. She has never forgotten, and I can’t tell you how much this means to me. This year her card was the only acknowledgement of the date by anyone, even in my own family. This friend is a counselor herself and she knows how much this means to me. </p>
<p>We set up a memorial library fund at my D’s elementary school and I selected books for the library with that money. Perhaps you could coordinate something like that at the boy’s school. I liked that there would be a permanent memorial for her that other children could use. I also had a lovely statue of a little girl installed in a garden bed outside the school office, and that will also be a permanent memory of her.</p>
<p>Many, many people will turn away from these parents. You have the opportunity to be a true friend.</p>