Father's Day

I've posted this photo of Leif on his dad's chest when he was three months old in April 1975 before, but somehow it seemed right to re-post it on Father's Day.

Mother's Day and Father's Day always seem to have a sad component for parents who have lost a child. The day isn't whole and complete without all one's children.

I am thankful we have Peter Anthony, our first born, to be a part of our lives this day.

And sad that Leif is not here to be a part of it, too.

How to Help a Bereaved Parent - WikiHow

How to Help a Bereaved Parent (click on the title)

This is an excellent article and video from WikiHow on how to be a friend or relative to a grieving parent whose child has died, the best I've seen. Especially good are the short video and tips at the end. Three years ago, before Leif died, this would have been just "information" for me. Now I can relate to everything said and it is all so true. Save this or bookmark it in case you ever need it. I hope none of this blog's readers every experience the death of their child.
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The photo of Leif was taken at Lovers Point in Monterey, California in July 1980 when Leif was five years old.

"How Many Children Do You Have?"

Such an innocent question, one we all ask when we meet someone. Usually, we are all proud and happy to answer it, but it poses a difficult situation for those of us whose children have died. Do we answer with the number that are still living? (Even sadder for those who have none left.) Or do we answer how many we had?

It would be easier in some ways to answer that we have one son. That prevents the inevitable questions that lead to having to answer that one of our sons died, and then the questions about how, and having to answer that he shot himself, which always leads to a shocked silence. People don't know how to respond. Would you?

But it's not easier for me, because I cannot ever forget Leif, that he was and is a big part of our lives. He always will be. We had TWO children, not one, even though Leif is no longer with us. So, I always answer that we had two sons but one died. And I answer the questions truthfully. It may not be as comfortable as just telling about Peter A. and his family, but it's the only way I can do it. I cannot deny Leif's life, and I also think that avoiding the subjects of death and suicide is not right. People have tried too hard over the years to deny the reality of depression, mental illness and suicide. We have to be open about it or people will never feel it's all right to get treatment.

And how should someone who is confronted with the answer that the person they have just met lost a child, however they died? I don't know whether all bereaved parents would feel the same as I do, but I think the easiest thing to deal with is a simple, "I'm sorry. That must be very difficult for you." Just leave it at that unless the person seems to want to talk more about it. If they do, and you want to (that's another important consideration - don't feel you must if it is too difficult for you), then just say, "If you'd like to tell me about it, please do." If not, just say something like, "I'm know this is terrible blow for you. I hope you have someone to talk with about it," and go on to something else.

Don't be surprised at the emotional reaction of the grieving parent (and make no mistake, they will grieve all their lives, though in different measure at different times). Sometimes a parent who has lost a child can talk about it quite matter-of-factly and you might think they are "over it" or even callous about it, but that's not the case. It's just that at that moment, they are in control. Another time, the same parent might tear up or even burst into tears. It depends a lot upon what's been happening in their lives at that time. It's a lot harder, for instance, when milestones are close, like their dead child's birthday, Christmas, New Years (it's always hard to start a new year without a beloved son or daughter; New Years brings it home that another year without them has gone by and another one is coming), Thanksgiving, or other special days relating to their family. Sometimes they have had some significant reminder of their child that has made them feel especially vulnerable.

It's embarrassing to cry in front of other people, especially someone you've just met, so don't act like they are breaking down or get all flustered about it. If you feel so inclined, just give them a hug. Let them regain control. Believe me, they are fighting for it!

How many children do I have? TWO. The answer will always be TWO. Leif lived. He will always live in my heart.

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This photo of the four of us was taken by my sister Sherie in our old stone house in Manhattan, Kansas in July 1976. Leif was 18 months old. Peter Anthony was seven-and-a-half years old.

Looking for Love - Love Lost - What Marriage Meant to Leif

When Leif moved to Florida in March 2005, at first things really were going well for him. Once he found a job and began dating again (after a year of not dating in Kansas when J. left him and he was miserable and depressed), and bought a new motorcycle and loved riding it, for a time he seemed to be happier and more content. However, he was still looking for love and companionship, trying to find people through Match.com and eharmony, as well as other dating services. He wasn't finding anyone he felt more than a casual interest in until someone who had seen his Match profile struck up an email correspondence with him beginning in June 2005. The interesting thing about this correspondence is how much Leif wrote. Leif usually wrote curt, short, utilitarian emails. The exceptions were when he was involved with a woman he cared deeply about, or when he was writing about one of them to me.

As a part of this correspondence, Leif wrote to this woman, who had hadn't yet met, about what love, marriage and friendship meant to him. It is poignant, revealing, and, given what ultimately happened in the last three years of his life, infinitely sad. Here it is in his own words. This was written, as was most of his most revealing communication, in the wee hours of the morning, and sent at 4:35 a.m. on Sunday, July 10, 2005. He wanted something meaningful and committed, but he never found it. I think what he writes about his feelings in this email, those he felt at the end of his army career when he was alone, must have been again true in the last days of his life.

I want a marriage that means something, a real partnership and a loving commitment to each other. I am tired of fair weather friends that are only there for you as long as it is to their advantage but leave you as soon as it is not. I wonder does anyone ever take that vow "for better or for worse" seriously anymore? I have a big thing about promises. If I am not prepared to keep a promise I won't make it, even if I think I want to fulfill it, if I am not sureI actually can, I will not make a promise. I will not commit to something I am not sure I can hold true to. I wish others were the same. I made a promise when I got married and I took it seriously and took a lot of abuse due to that promise, but my wife did not take it seriously and bailed when things got "Worse." Considering that I had always been the knight in shining armor rescuing her, the idea that she could no longer need me and leave me when she was the weak one hurt a lot.

You want to know something about me that few people know? Well, here is a little known fact. I am generally considered to be the "Rock," the unshakable, confident, stable man that was immune to stress and that nothing bothered me. Many people really believed that. What few know is that at the end of my time with my ex wife and as my army career was in decline, I was so miserable and unhappy and hurt that I was genuinely suicidal. Every day was nothing but another 24 hours of suffering and humiliation and I just wanted it to stop. I was sick, hurt, lonely and emotionally destitute. My wife had left me and I was stuck in a miserable place I hated with no friends and a job that punished me, which I could not quit. There was no way out and I seriously was at the point that I had planned out exactly how I was going to kill myself and how to ensure that it would work, and that I couldn't survive and be one of those horrible cases of disfigured attemtped suicides.

Ultimately, I obvioulsly did not go through with it. I wanted a release from the misery but I simply couldn't do it because while I had no concern for myself I knew how badly it would hurt the people who would survive me, namely my parents and the friend who had left his shotgun I was going to use at my house. My own compassion for them drove me to endure each day that followed until I escaped the situation. I recovered and I am now much happier. I am so glad I was not foolish enough to succumb to my weaknesses. I am loving life today and everything has turned around.

I don't want to bring you down or bum you out but I wanted to give you some insight into me and how important loyalty and reliability are to me. Save for my parents, I have never had anyone that I could count on to be there for the rest of my life. I have never known any friend that loved me and cared for me and would be there for me through thick and thin, wanting nothing in return but my friendship. I want that.

They say most men fear commitment. I have never known commitment. I have dreamed of it and desired it but never experienced it. The ideal of forever is alien to me. Perhaps most men can't see this far and don't see the value in such things but I see the old men that come into my store alone and I pity them and wonder If I will be one of them. I wonder who will love me when I am old and gray and wrinkled? Will I die alone? If not, who wil be there when I die? Will anyone mourn my passing? Will it matter that I lived?

I head an interesting discussion of the idea of marriage and its merits. One person said that it is not really necessary but what it really means is that we are agreeing to be witnesses to each others lives. In the vastness of all humanity what, meaning does one life make? What is one person in 6 billion? Who cares? Marriage is about two people promising to care about each others lives and to witness them.

Wow, I am getting side tracked, but I hope that gives you some insight into what I value and why.

Oh, Leif, yes, it mattered that you lived! It mattered to me, and always will.

And it mattered to many others. How could you not know?

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The photo is one Leif took of himself, oddly enough in his bathroom, with his Treo phone, to send to a woman on Match.com who requested a photo. It was taken on March 30, 2005, about three weeks after he moved to Florida.