rhet, seriously you can help our colleague friend
if you do those things such as remember the dates, maybe send her a little card, if its easier, as idon't know what its like in your workplace
it will honestly mean so much to her
make sure you use her childs name
i and people i know in this shitty position love to hear our childs name said out loud
realise at christmas it will be espeically hard for her, her emotions will probably feel even more intensifed
and its a really tough time to get through
and she probably putting on the act, pretending to be better than she actually is
see though it
and all these things will really really help her
i hope that it really helps you both
theres a couple of poems i particulary like that explain the grief and loss in a far more eloquent way than i ever could
but this is one of them
it mighe help with understanding a tiny percent of the pain
sk My Mom How She Is
by Author Unknown
My Mom, she tells a lot of lies,
She never did before
But from now until she dies,
She'll tell a whole lot more.
Ask my Mom how she is
And because she can't explain,
She will tell a little lie
because she can't describe the pain.
Ask my Mom how she is,
She'll say"I'm alright."
If that's the truth, then tell me,
why does she cry each night ?
Ask my Mom how she is
She seems to cope so well,
She didn't have a choice you see,
Nor the strength to yell.
Ask my Mom how she is,
"I'm fine, I'm well, I'm coping."
For God's sake Mom, just tell the truth,
Just say your heart is broken
She'll love me all her life
I loved her all of mine.
But if you ask her how she is,
She'll lie and say she's fine.
I am here in Heaven
I cannot hug from here.
If she lies to you don't listen
Hug her and hold her near.
On the day we meet again,
We'll smile and I'll be bold.
I'll say,
"You're lucky to get in here, Mom,
With all the lies you told!
and
An Ugly Pair of Shoes"
I am wearing a pair of shoes.
They are ugly shoes.
Uncomfortable Shoes.
I hate my shoes.
Each day I wear them, and each day I wish I had another pair.
Some days my shoes hurt so bad that I do not think I can take another step.
Yet, I continue to wear them.
I get funny looks wearing these shoes.
They are looks of sympathy.
I can tell in others eyes that they are glad they are my shoes and not theirs.
They never talk about my shoes.
To learn how awful my shoes are might make them uncomfortable.
To truly understand these shoes you must walk in them.
But, once you put them on, you can never take them off.
I now realize that I am not the other one who wears these shoes.
There are many pairs in the world.
Some women are like me and ache daily as they try and walk in them.
Some have learned how to walk in them so they don't hurt quite as much.
Some have worn the shoes so long that days will go by
before they think of how much they hurt.
No woman deserves to wear these shoes.
Yet, because of the shoes I am a stronger women.
These shoes have given me the strength to face anything.
They have made me who I am.
I will forever walk in the shoes of a woman who has lost a child.