My Journey Thru Grief

My story begins on March 2nd, 1954 with the death of an 8 pound baby boy a few hours after birth in an Air Force Base Hospital in Bitburg, Germany a month after I arrived there to join my husband who was stationed there. My oldest daughter, Janet who was 4 and a half and I had flown there in early February.

We named him Dennis James and he was buried in an American section of a cemetery in Frankfurt.

Anyone who has lost a baby knows how devastating it is compounding the loss was being thousands of miles away from family in a foreign country. Janet, who had been begging for a baby brother or sister for awhile was sad when her Dad told her we wouldn't be bringing one home from the hospital. She had playmates at our previous home at Ft. Lewis, WA including a cute little African-American boy. She asked if the hospital only had black babies.. (she figured the reason why they didn't bring a baby home was because they didn't have any of their race.)

My husband, Dick, was discharged from the Army Air Corp in December, 1945 having spent time flying The Hump over India, Burma and China during WW2. We met shortly after that and were married Sept., 1946 after I graduated from high school.

We had been married 4 years when he was called back to active duty during the Korean War. Janet was 18 months when he went to Korea and 3 years old when he returned in 1952. He had decided to make the army a career and after 18 months at Ft. Lewis he had orders for Germany with an army engineer group attached to the air force.

It seemed as if most of the wives there at the air fore base were pregnant and it was heart breaking that mine didn't live. He was perfect except a serious heart defect. Today the government would send the family back to the states on a compassionate transfer but not in the 50's. We still had nearly 3 years to go before returning to the states. I was very depressed and prayed a lot.

God was good and eleven months later I gave birth at the same air force hospital to a baby girl we named Denise Lyn. She couldn't replace Dennis but brought us much joy.

We returned to the states in 1956 when she was 18 months old and Janet 7. We arranged for Dennis to be disinterred and his body was sent to Dover, Delaware and on to our home town of Rigby.

Dick was army reserve adviser in Terre Haute, Indiana for 2 years and Ft. Collins, Colorado another two years. Then we returned to Germany in 1960 for another 3 year tour of duty. During our nearly 6 years there we visited some of Dick's family in Sweden (his father was born there) and many other countries.

Returning to the states in Sept. 1963 We were assigned to Ft. Belvoir, Virginia near Washington D.C. August 1965 he was sent to Vietnam for a year and the girls and I returned to Rigby to live near family for a year. The girls were 16 and 10.

His last assignment before retiring in 1968 was as Area Commander of the army reserves in Eastern Washington and Northern Idaho with headquarters in Spokane, WA. We had decided we would be making Spokane our home.

On Oct. 3rd, 1969, Janet, 20, died of injuries in an auto accident having been broadsided by a drunk driver a block behind our house. She was going to nursing school and working nights at Valley Hospital and Medical Center.

Losing the baby was so hard and now we were grieving the loss of a twenty year old daughter. There was no support group in our church like The Compassionate Friends like there is today.

Dick, Denise and I struggled with our grief and in my own grief I don't think I helped Denise as much as I should have. Today there are also sibling support groups. Not only is there tremendous emotional pain but also physical brought on by the heart breaking loss.

May had been my favorite month but for many years I dreaded it as within a 3 week period came Mother's Day, mine and Janet's birthdays and Memorial Day.

Fifteen years later two days before Christmas Denise, 29, died at home of an aneurysm. We had spent a wonderful day together Christmas shopping. The paramedics worked on her here at home surrounded by Christmas decorations and she was taken to the hospital but it was too massive for her to have survived even if she'd been in the hospital. I couldn't comprehend why God would take our last child from us and said many times I couldn't make it thru the loss of another and our last child. From then on and even nearly 24 years later the holidays starting with Thanksgiving, but especially Christmas brings more sadness than joy.

Over the years Dick and I did work our way through grief again. Our lives forever changed as now we were childless. There were gallons of tears and thousands of prayers. I've never understood why a couple would divorce after the death of a child as we needed each other. No one else could understand such a loss.

I couldn't function at home but had joined the Valley Hospital auxiliary in 1970 and could put on my uniform and go to the hospital 3 days a week. I was chairman of a new committee without enough volunteers to cover all the shifts. I would walk down the halls trying to hold back tears but at least I was doing something. The other volunteers and staff were so compassionate and supportive.

Denise was very close to us. It seemed as if she was trying to make up for our other losses. It was so painful and still is to a certain extent to see mothers and daughters enjoying each thers company and hear about family visits. Especially at holiday time.

Over the years I've accumulated around 70 books about grieving and life after death. Most especially related to the death of a child. I would read one that helped and then look for another one at different bookstores. The best is "Beyond Grief, The Death Of A Child" by Ronald J. Knapp. It may be out of print now.

You wonder how the rest of the world can go on normally when yours has stopped, but I would rather have to go through it all again than not to have had them.

I've told many people I know that I'm positive God has a plan for each of us as my husband survived three wars safely. The baby died in a hospital, Janet on a corner behind our house and Denise in our living room. I have finally accepted the fact that in the pre-existance I was shown how my life would be and still wanted to come here. I know we will be together again as a family.
My husband died three years ago of pneumonia. I don't have any family in Washington state but many good friends. My 38 years volunteering at the hospital has been my salvation. Everyone supports each other.

My family of four are buried in the Rigby, Idaho Pioneer Cemetery near many other family members.

I'm blessed with good health and the love of friends here, relatives out of state and the Shumway's who reached out to me when they lived in Spokane when they heard my story in church. Janet calls me every Sunday night.

I'm including some insensitive remarks that can hurt if people don't know what to say.

• Please don't tell me he--she is in a better place. They aren't here.

• Please don't tell me you know how I feel unless you've lost a child.

• Please don't ask me if I feel better. Bereavement isn't a condition.

• Please don't tell me God never gives you more than you can bear. Who decides how much another person can bear.

• Please just say you remember her or him if you do.

• Just let me talk if I want to, let me cry if I must. Just say you're sorry and give me a hug.

Bev Olson
Spokane, WA
July 27, 2008