Monday, August 18, 2008

A Great Analogy

I want to share an article by a local columnist from a few years back.  Thank you for sharing this this with me Jonelle!  You can read the article 

This article so accurately describes what it is like living after the death of a child. The rest of this post will make more sense if you read the article first.

I feel like I am learning to play that unexpected piano on the stage of my life. The music isn't always pretty yet. But, I think someday it will be. I have already found some joy in my playing. Some days, the notes seems to fall into the right places as if they are inspired. On those days I hear the voices of a supporting choir who, inspired by the song, have taken voice to sing along. There is strength in the song and it seems less sad when so supported. I have no doubt the Great Conductor is pleased with the music inspired by his beautiful, loving, diligent, faithful angel Camille. 
My Sweet Angel Girl Camille


Anonymous said...

Beautiful girl. Beautiful mother.



p.s. There is a parcel on its way from my girl to your's.

Anonymous said...

I've just read the post carefully now, Stephanie. I have not lost a child and yet that article helps me on the road to understanding the grief. I am sending it to a friend who does understand the grief.

Love (again!),


Jonelle said...

Stephanie- I have no doubts the Great Conductor is pleased with your song, simply because you have shared that song with all of us, and it is beautiful!

The Seeley Family said...

I have never lost a child, but that analogy makes perfect sense to me. Thank you for sharing it. I feel like I have a little better knowledge of the griefing process. You are such a great example to so many.

Rachel said...

Jonelle is absolutely right, we've all been enriched and blessed by your song.
Rachel Merrill

Noorda Notebook said...

gosh i haven't cried for you for a short time but that made me cry this morning :) i love you, steph. sometimes i can't believe you have to go through this most painful experience.

thanks for your post.

e said...

that is an incredible analogy. profound.
I am so happy to have read it and understand a tiny bit more of how you might be feeling & living. Two lines will stick with me "The grief is awful, but it is holy" and "The goal is not to get over it, the goal is to get on with it". I continue to be in awe of your process of getting on with it. Thank you for helping me to keep camille in my heart and mind. Each time I think of her, I am reminded of how precious berk, stella and charby are. Each time I think of camille, I am softer and more loving towards them. Each time I think of your angel, I am prompted to pray, read my scriptures, repent. While I miss her terribly as part of our earthly family, I find great daily strength in her legacy left here with us on the earth. I love camille and I love you!
I hope your day is filled with beautiful music.
sending a big hug,

p.s. what is jon's analogy since he is already the skilled pianist?!? :D

Mimi's Blog said...

I found your site through another blogger who is suffering too. I lost my first born son 34 years ago. This article made complete sense to me. You never get over it. You just get on with it. I am glad there is a support among those who have had to experience the death of a child. I felt so alone when it happened. I didn't know anyone who understood what I was going through except my husband. We clung to each other. It strengthed our marriage. We have three children now who have blessed our lives. They know about their oldest brother and celebrate his life because we chose to talk about him often, celebrate his birthday and visit his grave. There will many tough times ahead. Dwelling and wallowing = depression. I know, I've done that. There will be spiritual experiences where your sweet daughter will be with you. Invite her to be with you. Ask permission
through prayer and it will happen.I don't have to play my piano much anymore. It is there as a reminder. It just makes me want to be a better person, a worthy mom.

Marleen said...

I feel I have noticed your playing the piano. It still is amazing to me that you are there at the keys touching them let alone playing them. To me when I come in contact with you the music on your stage is sweet, simple and beautiful. I hope one day to be one of the singers on the stage. Sending love your way.

Shaundee said...

Her "Legacy"...That comment just hit me. The comment left by "e" is so right. How proud you must be of the legacy your sweet girl is leaving. The millions of lives her legacy will touch. What a powerful, and strong spirit she has always been. Look at what you and your little girl have been able to accomplish together. What a proud mother you must be!

Soswift's said...

What a beautiful article! Thank you for sharing it with us. Many years ago I had three miscarriages that caused me so much sadness. As I look back on those hard times, I remember that it was always easier to relate to someone who had experienced the same type of loss as me. My miscarriages were awful for me, but I will not compare it to your loss of Camille. I am grateful for the privilege (though it saddens me) to see her sweet and innocent face light up my computer screen when I open your blog. I can't resist the urge to smile back at her. The piano story puts things in perspective and helps me see how your loss will effect the rest of your life. I will be thinking of you and your family, as always.

Julie & Kyle said...

You don't know me and I can't even remember how I came across your blog but I've been following your story since early July. I've always wanted to leave you a comment but I never really knew what to say. But now I feel like I have to tell you "you are truely an inspriation!" I'm a very strong believer in "everything happens for a reason", but when I read about your precious Camille I couldn't imagine the "reason" for her death. Now I understand the reason for her short time here on earth was to teach us to love one another a little more, to hug our children a little longer, and to enjoy every day as if it was our last! Her journey through your words has completley inspired me to be a better person and not to dwell on the silly,little things in life. I don't even know you Stephanie but I love you and your family!! Every morning when I wake up I say "good morning Camille", I know that sounds kinda funny but I know she's there, I know she hears all of our prayers.
I'm not a "good" writer like you are so I apologize if I'm rambling :) Just know that you are loved and thought about everyday! Thank you for sharing this journey with us...


Mishrerr said...

Thank you so much for posting the link to that article! It was a very good description of what it is like. I lost my baby Benjamin last November. My song is unfortunately a bit angry still, although I hope for days where it can just reflect the beautiful depth of love I have for him. Today I thought of another good analogy of what it is like--it is like you have suddenly become handicapped. Everything you do now is affected by the cloud of grief. Every little detail of life seems to have its own pang to go along with it now.

Anonymous said...

Thank you so much for posting this, and the post above.

I feel like I play my piano beautifully some days, some days I don't need it, and some days I bang my head on the keys repeatedly.

I also appreciate the post about Brother Hales. I think I have been in a dark and dreary waste for quite some time. I am beginning to see some light at the end of the tunnel yet I know this isn't the last time I will feel lost in the dark. I am grateful to you for your example, for not preaching to me how to deal with my loss, as so many want to, but leading me, SHOWING me how. I am stronger when I have a daily dose of your wisdom.

From the bottom of my heart, thank you.

Annonymous J

Heidi said...

What an incredible article. He's so right. When you grieve, you feel connected to your loss.

How incredible to me that he'd be able to write like that without having lost a child.

Anonymous said...


I came across your blog from a friend of mines. I have been reading your blog daily since just a few days after Camille passed. I have not written anything yet, but your blog has given me such great outlooks on grief. My dad passed away from results of a car accident 7 years ago on July 10th. I was only 17 years old and just about to graduate from high school (my graduation was 4 days after the accident happened). Six weeks to the day my family had to make the decision to take my dad off of life support...this is still the hardest thing I have ever done. Your daily bolgs give me such great relief that I am not alone. I know that our situations are much different, but the pain/grief is always there. I can say that in the past 7 years there are good days, great day full of laughter and great memories, and then there are those day when I realize that it isn't all a dream...and then the anger/depression sets in. One thing that is especially hard for me is that no one my age seems to understand. Most of the time when someone loses a parent, they are much older in life. I was just getting ready to leave for college. I could go on and on about my pain...but I do have to say I agree with never goes away or gets easier...but you become stronger and are able to move on with it. Everytime I still have a bad day, I always have to remind myself that it is okay, and tomorrow will be better.

I think about you and your family each and everyday. When I see a little girl with a smile on her face I automatically think about your beautiful little Camille. I just want you to know that you are helping me in dealing with the death of my father 7 years ago, through your very honest posts.

You seem like a very strong women and your family is so lucky to have you in their lives.


Laura said...

I lost my sister a month before you lost your daughter. She was 23 and on her mission. So hard, but you're so good at putting in to words what I'm feeling. You also give me a better perspective of what my parents are going through. Thanks for this analogy. It's perfect. I shared it with my family and my mom especially liked it. Thanks for sharing so much of your self with all of us.

Anonymous said...

My name is Andrea and I love this post! My son was stillborn in June and I have struggled with how to try to help others to understand what is going on with me. Some days are good, some aren't. May I please read your piano description to them? I'm glad you found someone who is having the same trial as you. It's difficult when no one truly understands how it feels. Having someone who understands better hopefully will help you. My email is

Thank you.