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Editor
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Pat
Sirni
Associate Editor
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Margot
Hill
Newsletter Staff
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Angela
Dyer
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Lori
Petersen
GROWW Officers
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Anne
D’Ambrosio, Executive Director
GROWW Staff
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Libby
Morningstar, Director of Branches
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Pat
Sirni, Grief Recovery Room Manager
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Rachel
Frank, WebMistress
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Phil
D’Ambrosio, Director of Security
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Message from the Executive Director - Anne D’Ambrosio
I feel like I just finished the October article and now the November
one is due, wow, does time fly. The
holidays are around the corner. For
some the first, for others the first they may remember. Please remember to be gentle with
yourselves. My suggestion is to try
something different, start some new traditions. When I had my first Thanksgiving after my
husband died, I bought a centerpiece with a candle in the center for the
dining room table, once we sat down to eat, I lit the candle and I had
everyone share one happy, silly or funny memory of him. It did a few things, it lightened the
tension that everyone was feeling, it made everyone relax a little, we all
got a chuckle remembering his antics and with the candle lit, he stayed
with us throughout the meal. We
didn’t hide it or pretend it didn’t happen.
We have done that for several years, when Phil and I got married, we
put 2 candles in the centerpiece and our blended families share
stories. Since then we have lost
other family members and we have gone back to one candle and we all know we
will share stories of all of our friends and family that we’ve lost through
the years.
Some people like to try really new things, take vacations, and get
away from it all. It’s all a very
personal decision and only you know what is best for you. Please remember it won’t be same; we all
know that, the life we HAD is never going to come back or be the same.
Now I would like to share what I give thanks for this year. I am thankful for my husband who keeps me
a little off balance who always makes me laugh even when I’m stressed out,
who always acts like a child to keep me entertained. I am thankful for my children and parents
and friends. I’ve made so many
wonderful, special and caring friends who are like a part of my family, my
best friends who I met through GROWW - the friends who know me better then
anyone. I’m thankful for the home I
live in and the wonderful job I have that I still enjoy going to every
day. I’m thankful to Judy for
starting GROWW and to Jim for leaving it in my hands. I’m truly blessed that I have been able
to help make GROWW a better place, to keep it alive and flourishing and
knowing that maybe just maybe I along with the many Hosts who volunteer
here can help one single person feel a little better about what lies
ahead. It means more to me then anyone
can possibly imagine.
To you and yours a heartfelt Happy Thanksgiving from my family and me
to each and every one of you.
Until next month, Good Grief
AnneGD
Message from the Director of Branches - Libby Morningstar
Not this month.
Phil’s Corner - Phil D’Ambrosio
Hi Guyz. I
just got back into town from a trade show. I don’t know how many you have
ever seen or read anything by George Carlin, but I’d like to share some of
his thoughts with you in about euphemisms. I never noticed it but he makes
some valid points.
The first thing that came to my
attention when I checked into the hotel was how the titles have changed.
You used to check in with the desk clerk; now he’s the front desk agent.
The bellhop has been now become a luggage assistant and works in luggage
services. When I called down for towels the room attendant who used to be
the housekeeper, maid and cleaning woman brought them to me. I called down
for room service to order in and was informed its now in-room dining.
Someone called later and asked me how
my choice, all-beef, eight ounce, charbroiled sirloin patty, served
on a lightly toasted sesame seed bun, and topped with a generous slice of
their finest golden cheddar was. I told ‘em the
cheeseburger was fine.
At the show on of the most
common questions I’m often asked at theses shows is, “What do you do at
your company?” I am The Facilities Manager.
Hmmmmmmmm . Wow impressive huh? - lemme splain. I’m the
Electrician, plumber, technician, designer, sub-contract administrator,
trade show exhibit manager, customer transportation coordinator, and
anything and everything else that comes up that’s not covered above.
When did toilet paper become
toilet tissue, loafers became slip-ons, sneakers are now running shoes or
athletic footwear and my comfy worn and tattered sweatpants and sweatshirt
suddenly are active wear???? My 1993 Pontiac Grand Prix with 170,000 miles
now has an instrument panel, climate control system and a braking system
instead of a dashboard, heater & AC and brakes. I’m no longer
constipated by the way I’m going through occasional irregularity and my
medicines have been replaced by medications.
Well Anne’s giving me that look
so I guess I’ll go put out the trash for the garbage man, oh exxxxxxccccuuuussseeeeeeeee meeeeeeeeee
I mean the sanitation engineer so he can take it to the dump, dang I mean
landfill. This is way too much to digest, see ya
next month!
Guest Column: Denny aka “Bama”
Five Years Later We live in northwest Alabama , I am Denny "Bama", wife is Johnnie & our only child was (IS) Darryl, forever 32. On Sunday morning Nov. 21st of 99, we were sleeping late as we do on Sundays, when the phone woke us with that horrible phone call that every parent fears. Johnnie answered that call with sirens in background & the police officer telling us to come to hospital. It's only a 15 mile drive, but seemed like a thousand miles. As we came into town, the main intersection, we could see Darryl's car on tow truck. It had been hit directly on the drivers side door. When we arrived at the hospital, they showed us to "that" little room telling us they were working on Darryl. Not long after, they told us there wasn't anything they could do to save Darryl. A lady came out for us to sign an eye bank paper & an organ donor paper. And then we made the drive back home, in total shock. We planned the funeral, using songs that Darryl had loved; he loved all music. Rumors were that the young man who ran the red light was a drug abuser. When he was arrested, 3 months later, he was found to have drugs on him. He was charged with Murder DUI. After a 5 month battle, during which they tried to have the charges reduced to vehicular homicide, then later to manslaughter. We did not want to bargain, we had lost all that we had. The nights I couldn't sleep waiting for court were very stressful, and that's when I found Groww :). I had never used a computer and sure had never been in any chatroom, but some way I found a room called "Angel Beliefs" I went there for a while and a lady in that room told me of Groww, I was nervous, scared, and when asked to share our loss, I had a very hard time typing that Darryl had been killed, for me to be seeing it in print at first was very hard. But the ones in the room helped me get past that, with such love & understanding from ones that had been new to Groww just months before I had. Now we got a conviction of Murder DUI by a jury trial & Judge Jones sentenced him to 25 years. In Alabama he will come up for parole after 1/3 of that, we will protest it, because to this day he has not showed us any sign of remorse. Now with all of this part behind us, I still lay a wake many nights trying to understand how or what do I do now, yes I'm angry, all the emotions that most have when loosing a loved one in any way, but to loose a loved one by someone’s bad choice adds to it for sure. Just before the trial, we found out that two men, one in Ohio and one in Pennsylvania, can see today thru Darryl's beautiful blue eyes. We have a friend who works for the State of Alabama, he came to me and asked if I could help by going to local schools in our area with a new program called "Operation Save Teens". Yes, how could I not, - if it saved one child or one parent from having to go thru this Hell? I also speak at two different impact panels of court ordered drug & DUI offenders once ever 3 months. By doing this, even though I am not a speaker (and at times it is very stressful before or after telling our story), it's something I feel needs to be done. 18,000 people a year are killed by DUI's alone. All the "firsts" were so very hard, like the first Grill Steak. Darryl loved to grill. It looked so good, but just before cutting and eating first bite, we just pushed it away, could not eat it. The dogs & cats enjoyed it :). Now we can grill, go to ballgames and most all the things we did with Darryl, Yes we think of him every time, but we do know and have to tell ourselves many, many times he would not want us not to do the things we did together. Thanks and love to Groww Hosts and all the new friends I have made. Love Ya'll from "Bama" & Mrs Bama---<--married 40 years Oct 10th of 04---- Poetry/Story Corner
A LITTLE INSPIRATION
When I was quite young,
my father had one of the first telephones in our neighborhood. I
remember well the polished old case fastened to the wall. The shiny
receiver hung on the side of the box. I was too little to reach the
telephone, but used to listen with fascination when my
mother used to talk to it.
Then I discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived an
amazing person -- her name was "Information Please" and there was
nothing she did not know. "Information Please" could supply
anybody's
number and the correct time.
My first personal experience with this genie-in-the-bottle came one day
while my mother was visiting a neighbor. Amusing myself at the tool
bench in the basement, I whacked my finger with a hammer.
The pain was terrible, but there didn't seem to be any reason in crying
because there was no one home to give sympathy. I walked around the
house sucking my throbbing finger, finally arriving at the stairway.
The telephone!
Quickly, I ran for the footstool in the parlor and dragged it to the
landing. Climbing up, I unhooked the receiver in the parlor and held
it to my ear. "Information Please," I said into the
mouthpiece just above my head. A click or two and a small clear voice spoke
into my ear. "Information." "I hurt
my finger. . ." I wailed into the phone. The tears came
readily enough now that I had an audience. "Isn't your
mother home?" came the question. "Nobody's
home but me." I blubbered. "Are you bleeding?"
"No," I replied. "I hit my finger with the hammer and
it hurts." "Can you open your icebox?" she
asked. I said I could.
"Then chip off a little piece of ice and hold it to your
finger," said the voice.
After that, I called "Information Please" for everything. I
asked her for help with my geography and she told me where Philadelphia was. She helped me
with my math. She told me my pet chipmunk that I had caught in the
park just the day before would eat fruits and nuts. Then, there was the
time Petty, our pet canary died. I called "Information
Please" and told her the sad story. She listened, then said the usual things grown-ups say to soothe a
child. But I was UN-consoled. I asked her, "Why is it that
birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end
up as a heap of feathers on the bottom of a cage?"
She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, "Paul,
always remember that there are other worlds to sing in." Somehow
I felt better.
Another day I was on the telephone. "Information
Please."
"Information," said the now familiar voice. "How do you spell fix?" I
asked.
All this took place in a small town in the Pacific northwest. When I was 9 years old, we
moved across the country to Boston.
I missed my friend very much. "Information Please" belonged
in that old wooden box back home, and somehow never thought of trying the
tall, shiny new phone
that sat on the table in the hall.
As I grew into my teens, the memories of those childhood conversations
never really left me. Often, in moments of doubt and perplexity I
would recall the serene sense of security I had then. I appreciated
now how patient, understanding, and kind she was to have spent her time on
a
little boy.
A few years later, on my way west to college, my plane put down in Seattle. I had about
half an hour or so between planes. I spent 15 minutes or so on the phone with my sister, who lived there
now. Then without thinking what I as doing, I dialed my hometown
operator and said, "Information, Please."
Miraculously, I heard the small, clear voice I knew so well,
Information." I hadn't planned
this but I heard myself saying, "Could you please tell me how to spell
fix?" There was a long
pause. Then came the soft spoken answer,
"I guess your finger must have healed by now." I laughed. "So it's really
still you,' I said. "I wonder if you have any idea how much you
meant to me during that time."
"I wonder," she said, "if you know how much your
calls meant to me." "I never had any children, and I used to
look forward to your calls." I
told her how often I had thought of her over the years and I asked if I
could call her again when I came back to visit my sister. "Please do, she said.
"Just ask for Sally."
Three months later I was back in Seattle.
A different voice answered "Information." I
asked for Sally. "Are you a friend?"
She said. "Yes, a very old
friend," I answered.
"I'm sorry to have to tell you this, she said. Sally had been
working part-time the last few years because she was sick. She died
five weeks ago." Before I could hang up she said, "Wait a
minute. Did you say your name was Paul?" "Yes."
"Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down in case
you called. Let me read it to you." The note said, "Tell
him I still say there are other worlds to sing in. He'll know what I
mean."
I thanked her and hung up. I knew what Sally meant.
Never underestimate the impression you may make on others.
-- Author Unknown
Host Interview by Pat Sirni
JayL
Hi,
I'm Jay Lawrence, aka JayL or
GrHostJayL.
I presently Host in Silenced Angels and Grief Recovery. What brought me to Groww
was when a little over 2 1/2 yrs ago I lost my youngest son
Nathan, 21, to what is thought to be gang-related murder. (Thought to be, because he had been in a
gang and he took multiple shots to the back). As you might imagine my
whole family was crushed. About
a month later one of my daughters did an on-line search for grief
sites and came up with Groww. I would have never thought to come into
any kind of chatroom, and boy was I a
computer novice! But there I was
feeding all I could on the comfort and understanding that was being shared,
both on the message boards and in the chatrooms. All my other biological kids John, Wendy,
Audrey (all adults) have since come into Groww at one time or another, but I confess I'm the
biggest addict of all.
I've
found this thing called Grief to be a very whindy
road. The first 6 months I seemed to do remarkably well. People were amazed at how I handled
many things, but little did they know there was so much pain inside and Groww seemed to be the only release for it. I realize now I was just delaying my
grief because any long-term grieving was not acceptable in my circles. Consequently 9 months after the news of
Nathan's death I resigned from pastoring. The pressure to stay spiritual and care
for other's welfare became too much.
The following year I also left business, home and marriage, and for
awhile only worked a few days a month. My kids stepped in and helped,
allowing me to stay with them.
Looking back I believe I had a breakdown of sorts and at that time
even took a break from hosting.
In
spring of 2004 I interviewed for a job that fit my resume way up in Saskatchewan, Canada. What a big change! (sorry,
neglected to say I spent most of the last 20 years in the hottest part of Arizona). That job as an Outreach Worker for
people living with AIDS, along with a new love and some much needed
Grief counseling has helped work some inner healing and purpose in my
life again. I feel like I have a new
start! My son's murder case remains
unsolved and I know I am not ever going to be "all the way over
that". But there is hope to live again. And one day I believe I will still get to
see my son.
If
I were asked what advice I could give any others who are just starting this
whindy grief road I would say 2 things:
1. Process any and all bitterness as
quickly as you can.
In other words don't just stew on your anger or resentment day after
day until it consumes you. We all can be misunderstood
or mistreated; Life itself is not fair. But we have to come to a place of
acceptance of circumstances before achieving any resolution. And...
2. Listen closely to what others say
who've been farther down this road than you. There are many wise people in Groww: staff, hosts, and long-term members. Yeah, there's that
occasional misspoken piece of advice, but it's the exception to the
rule and like mama used to say "Swallow the meat and spit out the
bones.” Most who've
walked in our shoes have something very valuable to share and it
can be just what you need for that day's grief.
If you would like to submit a
recipe or poem for publication in this newsletter, please send your
submission to newsletter@groww.org
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click reply with UNSUBSCRIBE in the Subject Line. For questions about this Newsletter or to
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