FATHERS THE FORGOTTEN GRIEVERS

The death of a child is probably the most traumatic and devastating experience a couple can face. Although both mothers and fathers grieve deeply when such a tragedy occurs, they grieve differently, and it is most
important that each partner give the other permission to grieve as he/she needs. This may be the greatest gift each can give the other. Parental grief is strongly influenced by the nature of the bond between child
and parent.

Bereavement specialists actually speak of "incongruent grieving" patterns in mothers and fathers and of differences in the timing and intensity of the parental bond for mothers and fathers. For the mother, the bond is usually more immediate and demonstrable, more intense at the beginning of life, more emotionally and physically intimate. The mother's bond with the baby is usually tightly forged from the moment of
conception and continues through the pregnancy, the birth, and the nursing process. The maternal bond involves the present and the baby's immediate needs, while the father's bond with the baby more often concerns the future and dreams and expectations for the child. Today, however, many fathers are forging earlier and more intense prenatal bonds with their babies. Fathers also are often present in the delivery room for the birth. Some fathers become direct caregivers of the newborn, developing early and close bonds with their infants. Yet, still in many cases, "the father's emotional investment in parenting tends to occur later and less intensely than the mother's. This has implications for the way parents grieve" (Cordell and Thomas 1990, 75).

When is it my turn to cry? I'm not sure society or my upbringing will allow me a time to really cry, unafraid of the reaction and repercussion that might follow. I must be strong, I must support my wife because I am a man. I must be the cornerstone of our family because society says so, my family says so, and, until I can reverse my learned nature, I say so. - A FATHER, IN DEFRAIN ET AL. 1991, 112

In spite of the trend towards earlier bonding between fathers and babies, the influence of cultural expectations about men and grief persists and is powerful. Typically, the societal view of parental loss is not the same for the father as the mother. Most of the literature on parental bereavement still tends to focus on the mother's grief. Often, men are not acknowledged as experiencing grief; or more importantly, men are not taught that it's necessary to grieve and are discouraged from demonstrating signs of grief
openly. Bereaved fathers frequently feel that they are the forgotten mourners and are often referred to as "second class grievers" (Horchler and Morris 1994, 72).

Fathers are expected to be strong for their partners, to be the "rock" in the family. All too often fathers are considered to be the ones who should attend to the practical but not the emotional aspects surrounding the death; they are expected to be the ones who should not let emotions show or tears fall outwardly, the ones who will not and should not fall apart. Men are often asked how their wives are doing, but not asked how they are doing. Such expectations place an unmanageable burden on men and deprive them of their rightful and urgent need to grieve. This need will surface eventually if
it is not expressed. It is not unusual for grieving fathers to feel overwhelmed, ignored, isolated, and abandoned as they try to continue to be caregivers and breadwinners for their families while their hearts are breaking. "Fathers' feelings [often] stay hidden under layers of responsibility and grim determination" (Staudacher 1991, 124).

Bereaved fathers often say that such strong emotions are very difficult to contain
after their child's death. Fathers often fear that they will erupt like volcanoes if they allow themselves to release these feelings and so, too often, fathers try to bury their pain with the child who died. It is most important that a father's grief be verbalized and understood by his partner, other family members, professionals, coworkers, friends, and by anyone who will listen. Fathers need to try to free themselves of stereotypes
and societal expectations about men and grief; they must be able to tell others that their grief is all they have from their child's brief life. Fathers repeatedly say that for their own peace of mind, they (and those who care about them) need to move away from this mind set and allow them to grieve as they are entitled. In too many instances, fathers' responses to infant loss tend to coincide with how they believe they should act as men, rather than how they need to act to confront and resolve [their own] grief. - CORDELL AND THOMAS 1990, 75

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FOOTPRINTS IN THE SAND

One night a man had a dream. He dreamed he was walking along the beach with the LORD. Across the sky flashed scenes from his life.
For each scene he noticed two sets of
footprints in the sand: one belonging
to him, and the other to the LORD.

When the last scene of his life flashed before him,
he looked back at the footprints in the sand.
He noticed that many times along the path of
his life there was only one set of footprints.
He also noticed that it happened at the very
lowest and saddest times in his life.
This really bothered him and he
questioned the LORD about it:
LORD, you said that once I decided to follow
you, you'd walk with me all the way.
But I have noticed that during the most
troublesome times in my life,
there is only one set of footprints.
I don't understand why when
I needed you most you would leave me."
The LORD replied:
"My son, my precious child,
I love you and I would never leave you.
During your times of trial and suffering,
when you see only one set of footprints,
it was then that I carried you."
written by Mary Stevenson

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„The agony is so great & yet I still stand it.
Had I not loved so very much I would not
hurt so much. But goodness knows I would
not want to diminish that precious love by one
fraction of an ounce. I will hurt, & I will be
grateful for the hurt, for it bears witness to the
depth of our meanings, & for that I will be
eternally grateful.
In this sad world of ours, sorrow comes to us
all. It comes with the bitterest agony. Perfect
relief is not possible except with time, you
cannot now realise that you will ever feel
better, & yet this is a mistake. You are sure to
be happy again. To know this, which is
certainly true, will make you less miserable
now. I have had experience enough to know
what I say.

Abraham Lincoln – three of his sons died:
Edward aged 4, William aged 11 and
Thomas aged 18

 

I watched my mate go through hell. 
And I felt helpless, useless and sometimes … invisible.

Other times – I stood strong while bearing the brunt of my love’s anger
that lashed out at the world – as an angry God would open the heavens
with roaring thunder and lightning. I was accused of not understanding
and surely … I could not.

I felt heavy with pain for my step- child, the one I took as my own. 
I grieved for the good times we had together, the tugs at my heart that
always pierced through my resentments.

The guilt weighed heavily on my shoulders for the times we didn’t
communicate and I wondered if … I could have made it better.

At the funeral home.  I felt a pang of … yes … jealousy toward the natu-
ral parent of my beloved stepchild, knowing that she and my mate
shared a private room from the past that I could never, ever, enter.

Life must go on … this day-to-day existence, but things are different now.

I offer my support as I see eyes star ing off into a distant land.  I hold a
hand and kiss away the teardrops.

With an added sorrow, I wonder if my love will return to me or stay in
that far-off land … forever.  For deep in my heart I know that this tragedy
will bring us closer together or tear us completely apart. [By Peggy Hull – TCF: South Australia]