In memoriam, Karen Roel (1946 - 2012)

Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal.  ~From a headstone in Ireland

Karen Roel, was the 5th and only girl in a family of 6. She was born of César Roel, a successful Mexican lawyer, and Josephine Schreurs, and accomplished violinist.

Being a child of a violin player, she grew up surrounded by music and creativity. Two of her older brother were rock stars in the late 50's and 60's. 

She recorded her own albums, but she made a career on composing music for commercials and movies. Along with her younger brother, Eduardo, she won an "Ariel" (the Mexican equivalent to an Oscar) for the score of "Rojo Amanecer", a movie portraying the tragic events occurred on Tlaltelolco on October 2, 1968. Her work since then, had been nominated for several awards.

Her pride and joy were her two daughters: Amanda and Sabina. Her best gift in life, her beautiful grandson León, with whom she shared birthday.

Her husband died of a massive heart attack 27+ years ago, so she had to face being a single mother since her girls were 8 and 5 years old.

Four years ago, she was diagnosed with Lymphoma. She fought hard to continue living. She didn't want to loose a day with her daughters and grandson.

After her second round of chemotherapy, she was declared in remission. At the beginning of April, she was rushed to the hospital due to complications to her liver and kidneys.

As the fighter she was, she put all she had to get well. Sadly, will is not what she needed to recover as her body began to shut down.

She died peacefully at 10:20am on Tuesday, April 17, in the arms of her beloved daughters and in the presence of one of her sister-in-law, her younger nephew, two of her nieces and a dear friend of her girl's.

I was honored to be chosen -by life, by her and by God- to be present at that powerful, life-changing moment, once again witnessing the greatness of love, as it conquers death.

As her oldest niece, I can say that she was a loving aunt. She had a wonderful sense of humor. She was always nice and caring.

I saw her frustrated, annoyed, happy, sad, worried... but never angry. Maybe I was lucky, but I don't think so.

I consider myself lucky to have spent many days of my youth at her house, listening to her play her piano. 

She was gracious enough to help us with our school projects when they involved music, I remember many happy hours at her recording studio.

When my grandma died, I spent many hours with her, cleaning the house and reading letters and papers and stuff. Those moments, alone with my aunt, at grandma's house, are treasured memories I will always hold close to my heart, as we were able to share many family stories among us.

Dear aunt Karen, thank you so much for being an important part of my life. Please know that you will be always loved and MISSed...

... Until we meet again,

C

Christa Bowen (1975 - 2010)

Image by Walt Jabsco via Flickr

Given a choice between grief and nothing, I'd choose grief.

William Faulkner

Last Wednesday, I received a tragic email. I was sitting with my big boy, reading a book, when the light in my Blackberry began blinking. He noticed first and I read the message.

It stated that one of my MISSters, Christa Bown, died two days prior.

As shock numb my mind, I raced downstairs to call Dr. Joanne Cacciatore, CEO and founder of The MISS Foundation. I just needed to hear her voice, sobbing, to know that it was true.

She was 35. She was exiting the parking lot of a grocery store when she was killed in a car crash. A senseless tragedy, without a doubt.

I met Christa many years ago. I was already a moderator for The MISS Foundation Online Support Groups when she joined. Her precious daughters, Caitlyn and Alexa died.

I remember her excruciating pain. She loved her girls so much. I was honored to know those precious little girls through their loving mom.

Even when she was in the pit, she would always reach out to others. Her compassion never lessened.

Then she became pregnant with her twins, Tyler and Austin. Her joy for having her baby boys in her arms was palpable through her words. Each shared milestone, each anecdote brought a smile to my face.

Christa had a great sense of humor. Her wit made me laugh so hard, she brightened many of my days.

Christa was a great friend. She was always there for me, even though we never met in person. But we knew each other. We shared the worst pain and the merriest joy. We sat in the pit together and then helped each other out of the hole of sorrow. Our grief over the death of our children formed an unbreakable bond between us.

She reached out to others in grief more than 9 500 times on the MISS Support Groups, plus many, many times in a more private way.

She was a thoughtful and caring friend. I cannot imagine anyone that knew her, didn't got transformed by that little, intelligent, loving, blonde beauty.

I know she touched my life in a profound way. I am a better person because of her.

As John Taylor said: While we are mourning the loss of our friend, others are rejoicing to meet her behind the veil.

I know she now holds her precious girls in her loving arms, forever.

I am certain that many, many precious children gathered together to greet her.

Dearest Christa, thank YOU for touching my life, for being my friend. You will always be loved and MISSed. Rest in peace.

Time goes on... and so does life

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Eleven years ago yesterday, I woke up in the middle of the night with the gut feeling that my baby had died.

One week before, we had a successful ultrasound. The baby was healthy and thriving. Its little heart was beating fast and we were ecstatic.

I remember waking up my husband and telling him that I knew the baby had died. I had the urgency of picking up a name: for a boy, José Luis; for a girl, Carlota.

He told me to make an appointment for another ultrasound as soon as the doctor was open, and so I did. At 1:00 pm, we found out that our baby had died. She measured exactly the gestational age she was supposed to be.

In a blur, I went home and packed, and my husband made reservation to fly as soon as possible to our US doctor.

Today, eleven years ago, our worst nightmare was confirmed: our baby died. She had a neurotubal defect that claimed her life.

We spent together the next 20 days. I was not ready to let her go, even though I knew she was already gone. During those days, we had so many tests and exams done, that most of our time was spent at the hospital.

Finally, on December 22, I decided to have surgery to end my pregnancy.

I never got to see her or hold her. Her little body did not survive spending 20 days dead, nor the surgery.

We later found that she was a girl: thus Carlota was named.

Nobody remembered her yesterday, except me and my MISS friends. I am used now to the forgetfulness around me.

My body remembered in a not-so-funny way. I came down with bronchitis and laryngitis a week ago. Our bodies always remember those horrible, tragic moments, even if our minds try to block it out.

Eleven years ago, I was sure I would not survive the pain and sorrow of loosing my baby girl and her brother and sister, in less than 2 years. I thought I would die of sadness....

... Eleven years later, I am a survivor. I enjoy life -most of the time- to be honest. I love those three children that were given to me to be raised, they feel my life with joy and wonder. I love my husband more than I did back then. I am honored to have known so many wonderful children, whose lives ended before their time, through their loving parents' eyes.

Sweet girl, you will always, always be loved and MISSed. No matter how long I live, I will always remember you. Thank you for choosing me to be your mommy, you and your siblings have been the greatest teachers one could hope for.

Survivors of Suicide, November 21, 2009

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I follow some blogs.

Many relate to grief, parental loss, the struggle of everyday life, parenting, art, cooking and crafts.

I love to read what my friends share with me. This is taken from my dearest friend Kara, Kota's mom.

Suicide leaves a lot of unanswered questions inside the loved ones of the person that couldn't take his/her pain anymore and decided to end it. I am not talking about ending his/her life, I believe that those that attempt suicide just want their internal pain to stop, one way or another.

I am a survivor of suicide. A dear family member killed himself when I was 11 years old. Obviously, the fact that he had died by his own hands was kept from me until I was 18 years old. That was when my world shattered for the first time. I loved him dearly and I know he loved us more than life itself, so you can imagine that I couldn't comprehend why he killed himself. It took me a lot of grief work (repressed for 7 years) and a lot of therapy to make my brain understand the why's and to let my heart forgive him and the rest of the family for his death.

If you or anyone you know are survivors of suicide loss, please take into account the following information:

On Saturday, November 21, 2009, simultaneous conferences for survivors of suicide loss will take place throughout the U.S. and internationally. This unique network of healing conferences helps survivors connect with others who have survived the tragedy of suicide loss, and express and understand the powerful emotions they experience.

Each conference site is organized locally, but they’re all connected in spirit as participants across the globe watch a special 90-minuteAFSP broadcast together on that day. In the U.S., conference sites will show the broadcast together from 1-2:30 p.m. Eastern Standard Time and international sites will show it from 1-2:30 p.m. local time. Many conference sites plan their own local programs around the broadcast, including panels and breakout groups, all aimed at helping survivors heal.

For those survivors of suicide loss who don't live near a conference site or who find it difficult to attend in person, the 90-minute broadcast will also be available live on the AFSP website from 1-2:30 pm, Eastern Standard Time, with a live online chat immediately following the program. It will then be saved on the website so that survivors can watch it again throughout the year at anytime. For more information see the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention:

http://www.afsp.org

Refreshed

Image by paul.derry via Flickr

Dh and I spent a weekend away. The kids spent that time with my parents and apparently they had a blast.

It was so difficult for us not to talk about the kids while away, trying to relax. We are so used to talk about the children that we forget to share our thoughts with each other.

Daily routine takes over our lives. We hardly have time to check with ourselves, that we forget to check with our partners.

We enjoyed our time together immensly.

We ate out, enjoyed each other's company, but always with that shadow that indicated that someone is missing: our kids.

We are back now, and at least I, feel refreshed. I needed a break from school, homeworks and daily obligations to face them with love and energy.

Thanks dearest husband for taking me away for a few days.

I love you dearly.

Love and Marriage

Image by ronsho © via Flickr

Yesterday, a dear friend of mine got married.

We weren't able to attend, but I was there in spirit, be sure of that.

This beautiful lady - inside and out - is full of love. The love she has for her children is palpable. The love she feels for her second daughter, Cheyenne, made her reach out to others through her grief and founded The MISS Foundation.

I am honored to know her five children. I am honored to know her. I am honored to call her friend. She is like a sister to me.

I know that D will make her happy. Who wouldn't be happy spending the rest of his life with such a caring, loving, compassionate lady?

Dearest Jo, may you and D find in each other your soul partner, may your lives be full of love and happiness. I love you dearly.

From my Life Quote of the Day Gadget

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People living deeply have no fear of death ~Anais Nin

Are you afraid of death?

What are you afraid of? Your own death or the death of a loved one?

I can honestly say that before my children died, I was terrified of my own death. I was scared of what would happen in the after life.

My perception of my own mortality changed with the tragedy of loosing my own children. I remember in my early grief wishing to go to sleep and never wake up. I wanted to die, not only to stop the horrible pain I was experiencing, but to join them, wherever they are.

I lost the fear of dying. What better gift to be reunited with those babies for ever?

The question arose: Was I absolutely sure I would join them?

That, among other considerations, stopped me for killing myself.

I knew then, that I had to make the most of the time I had left on this Earth in order to hug my children one more time, forever.

I have to life to the fullest. Making every second count. Being their voice in this life. In short: making them proud.

I do fear the death of those I love, but I have learned that I have no control over what may come.

I fear the pain, but I do not fear my grief, who has become a dear friend of mine.

What my children in heaven have taught me is to embrace life -with its happiness and its deep sorrow-, always to say "I love you" to those I love. To enjoy the sunrises and the sunsets I have the chance to witness. No matter what others might think, hug and kiss those I love.

Meaning

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Today I had the opportunity to withdraw from reality and the stress of daily life for a couple of hours and attend a spiritual retreat.

After Mass and before the Blessed Sacrament we had two meditations preached by a priest and by a female teacher.

She was talking about how many people live depressed and question their value as human beings and the meaning of their lives.

I am quite sure that all men and women, no matter their time and place, have asked what is the meaning of their lives.

How many times have you thought that your life is meaningless and that you have no importance at all? I know I have done it many times.

But, have you ever considered that you are so valuable, so precious, that Jesus loves you so deeply, that He gave his life for you? Yes, YOU!

He knows your heart to the core, He knows your defects and your virtues, He can see the depths of your soul... and still He loves you to death, literally!

No matter the creatives ways we use to ignore Him, He is always watching, waiting for us to open our hearts to Him. He is patient, He knows no time, He waits and waits, until one day, we turn our face towards Him and decide to open our hearts and souls to the only one that loves us unconditionally, in spite of ourselves.

Are you ready to let Him in?

September

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Today is the first day of September.

Twelve yeas ago, I had been on bedrest for more than a couple of months. I was pregnant with our second child: a girl. As her brother died less than 6 months earlier, the dr decided that I was to be bed bound and taking a zillion hormones to help this little one grow.

I did all that the dr ordered. We were so looking forward to finally having a baby in our home.

But it didn't happen. At the end of August I began feeling "different". I called my dr and he said that I should not worry, that everything was OK. I finally got him to check on us on September 3rd.

I remember that day as if it was yesterday: lying on his stretcher, having an ultrasound done on my belly. Watching that beautiful baby, perfectly formed, completely immobile. I was in awe by her features. I didn't know I was supposed to watch her heart beating.

The dr told me to get dressed and that he would be in his office, ready to talk to us.

His words crashed our world for a second time: our baby was dead. As I write this, my chest gets tight and my breathing shallow.

Our beautiful baby girl was dead, I would never get the chance to hold her, to look into her eyes, to tell her I love her more than life itself.

Arrangements were made for me to get the hospital. I still get goose bumps as I felt my body betray me once again. I was my daughter's casket. I couldn't handle it anymore.

I could write a book on that horrible experience, minute by minute.

The fact is that I survived, we survived.

It was a couple of years later that I decided to be her voice, her siblings' voice. Their short lives matter. Their untimely deaths would impact the world we live in, one way or another.

I have to make sure I am able to hold them one day, I have to be my best self to get where they are: happy, loved and knowing no harm or pain.

Dearest Jo, until we meet again... Love, mommy

Death in our lives

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One way or another, death is always there. Like a monster in the closet, a shadow on the corner of our room, like an unexpected visitor, like a dear friend.

Its presence is felt differently depending our own fears about our own death and that loved one we fear might die.

If we are OK with the reality of our own mortality, death will come easier than to those who fear it.

But death, ultimately, is about the death of others. The effect it will have upon us depends on our attachment to them.

We are so used to listen about death that we don't notice the times the "d" word reaches our ears. All news programs refer to death at least once. Tragedy is present in every corner of our world and with the easiness that media gets to the facts and the way it gets to us, it is more present than ever.

Sometimes, when we are with our friends and family, someone will relate that someone's friend, cousin, brother, sister, aunt, nephew, niece, grandparent, parent, wife, husband or child died. It might cause an impact on us, but not the same way someone we love died.

That love we have for one another is what changes our views on death. When it reaches OUR friend, cousin, brother, sister, aunt, uncle, nephew, niece, grandparent, partner or child it devastates us in ways we never thought possible.

What matters in death, is the death of a person we love. It will break the relationship we have, the communication between us will get "disconnected", our life - as we knew it- will end.

Those of us who work with the bereaved, usually think about those left behind with death comes.

I can't fail to think - even to say a little prayer - for that parent, partner, child, relative or friend of that person that died.

Today, a dear friend of one of my cousins died. He was 39 and died of a massive heart attack. It has already made the news. But I just can think of those parents that have joined a club they never wanted to be a part of, of that young widow that is alone from now on to raise their children, of those children that will grow without the physical presence of their loving dad, of those friends that were so close to him, that will miss him dearly.

Tonight, my heart goes out to them and I just pray that they find the strength to find peace after the tragedy stroke hard.

Six years

On the 25th, my baby girl will turn six years old!

For those of you who are working on the math, yes: my girls are one year, and nine days apart.

Six years ago, I finally got the chance to hug my precious baby girl. She was not as tiny as her sister. She had big, brown eyes and a tiny nose.

Of all my children, this little, beautiful girl was the most difficult. I have always told her that if she had been the oldest, she would be an only child. I bet sometimes she wishes that was true!

She had a terrible temper and would go into a tantrum at the slightest motive. Little did we know that she was oversensitive to smells, noise, light and touch. Thank goodness that neurological condition was overgrown some years ago.

She was only 11 months old when she began forming complete sentences to express her needs, wants and feelings... Since then, that high pitched voice of hers is a constant sound in our home and I love to hear it!

She and I share a special connection: it only takes a look into each others eyes to know what the other wants. She would rather be with mommy than with daddy. In fact, she didn't like to be held by dad until she was over a year old.

Her temper has mellowed, but she is as determined and stubborn as her mom.

She is an artist. She paints beautifully and even has one of her pieces exhibited. She did it at 4!

She has a beautiful voice and loves to dance. Has a prolific imagination and loves to tell stories about the characters that live inside that little head of hers.

She is a girly girl: she loves to play with her dolls and to play dress up and watch princesses movies.

Again, the day after tomorrow, will be a day a celebration and joy in our home.

Love v. Fear

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There is no fear in love, ...perfect love expels fear ~Henri Nouwen

I have been a volunteer for The MISS Foundation for 11 years now.

When I meet someone and they ask what I do and I explain that I work as a volunteer with families after the death of a child, no matter their age or the cause of death, a question always arises: "How can you do that every day?"

Honestly, I do what I do, first and foremost, to honor the memory of those three babies of mine that died before their time.

Second of all, I do it because I am honored to be allowed to walk with these wonderful people through their grief journey and to meet their children through their loving eyes.

I am always in awe to see, to hear and to read so much love, even through the most horrible, inexplicable and raw pain they are in.

They have had to bury their precious children, they have faced the most horrible tragedy a human being should experience: the death of a child.

Still their love shines through.

Once in a while the question comes: "would you change a thing in your life if you already knew the outcome?"

"No!" That is the answer they'll give.

Would you rather not knowing your child if you knew he/she would die? No.

It is worth the pain of loosing a child to death, just to be able to feel that undying, maternal love. It is worth the pain of burying one's child, just to have seen the look in his/her eyes.

And all the rawness of that terrible grief is worth, just to have gotten into one's child's embrace and hearing "I love you mom"


Because love is stronger than death.