50 Years Ago In Dallas

On November 22, 1963, I was 9 years old and off from school that day because I felt sick.

 

I was under the covers of my parents bed and watching the black and white television they had in their bedroom.  For some reason my Dad was home that day and he come upstairs to see how I was when the television programming stopped and the unbelievable and shocking news was announced that President John F. Kennedy has been shot in Dallas and died.

 

I had never seen my father cry before and I didn't know what to do.  He went over to the window and raised his left arm up against the wall and pressed his head into the crook of his elbow and starting crying.  I silently watched his shoulders shake for a few minutes.  I pulled the sheets up to my face and started to cry too because I knew, even though I was only nine years old, that what was happening was bad, really, really bad.  Bad in a way that I knew was different from anything else I had ever known.  Eventually, my father turned around, wiped his face with his hands and stared at the television as the awful news continued to be announced over the airwaves.

President John F. Kennedy & First Lady Jacqueline Kennedy ride
in the Dallas motorcade moments before shots were fired.
Photo Courtesy of Reuters/STR

 

I don't think anyone turned the television off for days.  Our whole lives revolved around what was being broadcast and no one moved from where there was a television from the moment the news broke of the assassination to the burial at Arlington National Cemetery and even for days after.

The loss was, and still is, profound.  People were in shock and deeply grieving for the young and charismatic president and felt the immediate need to reach out to offer support to First Lady Jacqueline Kennedy and her two children, Caroline and John.  This was a president who spent a lot of time on television and Americans felt that they were a part of the Kennedy family's life.  At least our family did.

There were no computers in those days so people sat down and expressed their feelings of grief and sympathy the old fashioned way:  they wrote heartfelt handwritten letters. 

The White House said in the weeks following President John F. Kennedy's death that it received more than 800,000 condolence letters, 45,000  of which were received on the Monday following the assassination.

People seemed to instinctively know that one of the most important things you can do for a bereaved person is to acknowledge their loss.  Don't ever be afraid to acknowledge another person's loss.  When in doubt of what to do, it's best to push aside your own anxieties and please keep it simple.

In this tragic instance, it was a loss for the whole nation, as our President was killed right before our eyes.  And while Kennedy was our President, he was also a husband and father and uncle and brother and it is those other human roles that Kennedy filled that also were acknowledged in the days following his death.

And so we take a moment today to remember.

In the words of Monica Lehner-Kahn, "Condolence is the art of giving courage."

 

In Sympathy

Yesterday I wrote a sympathy card to a man who once lived across the street from our family when I was growing up.

Sadly, his wife died last week after suffering for about a year.  He could no longer take care of his wife by himself but she lived nearby and I understand that he visited her almost every day.  I haven't seen either one of them in years but they still are significant to me.

I babysat for their three children and so did one of my sisters.  We would always wave to them if they were in their yard and sometimes we would walk across the street for short conversations.  My mother and his wife talked a lot because our families had children who were the same ages and they would all be outside playing at the same times.

As I sat down to express my sympathy, I realized that even though I lost my spouse a number of years ago and I have a pretty good idea how much pain this man is feeling, it is still difficult to write a sympathy card.

But as difficult as it is, I still remember how comforting those sympathy cards and letters were to me after my husband died and I would never let my awkwardness stop me from helping another person in the throes of grief and vulnerability.

Writing heartfelt condolences is a tricky area and you're never quite sure if you are saying the right thing that will bring comfort to a person newly bereaved.

I think the most honest and touching thing anyone can write to the grieving person is about how you knew the person that died; what they meant to you, how you met them and a special memory you may have of them.  Maybe they said something to you that always has stayed with you and helped inspire you.

In the end, everyone always wants to hear lots of stories about the person they loved and lost.

From A Child's Heart

 

 

 

I was browsing through two of my Letitia Baldrige books on manners while writing and posting last week about her recent death and came upon a very touching chapter she wrote on how a child learns to communicate a kind thought.

I was immediately drawn into the chapter because in today's world, it is a bit unusual to come across a child of any age who says "please" and "thank you" all on their own.

In Baldrige's book, "More Than Manners! Raising Today's Kids to Have Kind Manners & Good Hearts," she discusses the need to teach young boys and girls how to write a thank you note or at the very least, a thank you email.  Of course, she says, the children will complain and won't want to do it, but still it's important to teach them how to communicate with others and learn how to put their thoughts into words.

 

Also, most children love to receive mail that is delivered to their house and writing a note shows them that they can learn to give of themselves as well as receive from others.

Thank you notes and letters to Santa Claus are the most common type of correspondence a child will engage in but there are also other kinds of letters a child might write.  Specifically, Baldrige says, she has seen letters of condolence from children that are truly special!

My mother taught me in elementary school how to go up to someone at a funeral or a wake and sincerely say "I am sorry for your loss" but I don't think I could have written a note.  Especially to a friend or playmate my age.

 

But the secret is to speak from the heart.

 

I will now quote directly from Baldrige's book because her words are perfect and this child's letter really touched me deeply:

"I have seen many unforgettable written communications children have sent other children.  They have an impact that reaches far beyond the person who opens the envelope.  One letter of condolence written truly from the heart was composed by an eleven-year-old girl with a mild case of dyslexia.  She wrote to her best friend, the daughter of a lawyer friend of mine, on the occasion of the lawyer's wife's death.  Not only did he borrow that letter from his daughter to show to his family and all the neighbors, but he sent copies to all of his friends, and showed it to all of his close business associates.  He gave it to me to read at the beginning of a seminar in New York.  The young girl had written to his daughter:

Dear Maureen,

I'm very sorry to hear that your Mom dyed yesterday.  I know she ment lots to you, and you meant lots to her.  Your're rite, she was a very spesial Mom.  She was so nice to us kids, even when we ate her kake when she said not to.  No one made choclat kake like her.  You must be fealing sad.  Some day you'll see her again in heven.  She must have lots of friends up there.  (I hope she won't have to make too many kakes.)  When can you come over to play? I bot a new game, really neet.  Come over this wekend.  I dont want you and your Dad to fel sad."

Oh my goodness!  Is that not the sweetest letter ever?

I had to share it with you...this child's wisdom and ability to express emotion blew me away.

Sympathy Cards

I recently needed to send a sympathy card to a good friend and found myself in the confusing state of not knowing what to say.  Really, I didn't.  It was a struggle to get my thoughts on paper.

I opened the card and started to write and stopped.  Maybe I was overthinking what to say, but everything I came up with sounded so trite.  Of course, I was sorry and very sad about the person's death but the words that I thought would be appropriate just didn't seem to send the message I wanted.  "Sorry" just didn't seem to cut it.  Not when I knew how much the other person was hurting and how difficult it was going to be to adjust to this loss.

If I could have, I would have drawn a picture of the person's broken heart with my arms around it.  There truly are circumstances when words don't seem deep enough, warm enough or comforting enough to use. 

I decided to refer to a book I use at work for business correspondence called, "Great Letters for Every Occasion."   It's written by Rosalie Maggio and I use it because I like her down-to-earth approach to correspondence.  This time I turned to her chapter on Sympathy and Condolence letters and found some helpful guidance on what to say and what not to say.

In trying to offer support to a bereaved person, I think both parties are at a strong disadvantage.  The person offering comfort is afraid they are going to upset the bereaved person and the bereaved person is shocked and emotionally exhausted.  It's a tricky area.  Even so, I can't imagine that people say some of the things that Maggio cites as comments you should AVOID saying.  Here's a few:

-- Keep busy, you'll forget.
-- Be thankful you have another child.
-- Be happy for what you had.
-- You'll get over it.
-- She is out of her misery at least.
-- I heard you're not taking it well.

Maggio also says that you shouldn't rely on well-meaning but hurtful cliches, false cheerfulness and optimistic platitudes.  If you're not sure what any of those things are to avoid, Maggio is specific:

--In a Reader's Digest article, "An Etiquette for Grief," Crystal Gromer says, "In the context of grief, cliches are simply bad manners. . . . 'At least he didn't suffer,' people say. 'At least he's not a vegetable.'  Any time you hear 'at least' come out of your mouth, stop.

--Creating an imaginary worse scenario doesn't make the real and current one better.  It trivializes it.  Lynn Caine (Widow) wrote, "It infuriated me to have people say, 'I know you'll be feeling better soon.'  I wanted people to sympathize with how terrible I felt then and there.

--Lynn Caine says most of the condolence letters she received were more about the writer's awkwardness, discomfort and inadequacies than about her sorrow or their shared loss.  There is a fine line between expressing your sorrow and dramatizing your own reactions, Caine adds.

Instead, Maggio offers suggestions on what is helpful to say:

--My heart goes out to you as you grieve the loss of your (insert the person's relationship to bereaved)

--I send you my deepest sympathy on (insert the person's name)

--It was with a profound sense of loss that I learned of (insert the person's name)'s death.

--We are all grieving with and for you.

--You have our deepest sympathy and our love and friendship always.

Even though it may be one of the hardest notes to write, don't ever under estimate the power of sending sympathy whether it's a card or a letter.  It is always welcome.