From My Son's Garden: A Personal Story of Growth and Healing After the Loss of a Child (Book) - 4/11/2002 7:01:30 AM
Hahn-Greene's Garden Offers Hope to Those Who Need The Seeds
Suzi
Kentucky (4/7/2002) Brenda Hahn Greene has written an essential text for every parent who has lost a child, and she does it with hope and healing as the message. Having lost her eldest son in 1997, Greene, her husband, daughter and son struggled to find a way to put their family back together after the death of "Joby" scattered the pieces of family life into broken shards. This small but important text is the result of this struggle. Greene does not sugarcoat the experience of this unnatural grief. Admitting that the loss of a child is more devastating than the loss of a parent, grandparent, or any other family member, Greene takes the reader through the denial, anger, acceptance, growth, and healing of one who has lost identity to find some normalcy and hope, goals every parent who has lost a child seeks. FROM MY SON'S GARDEN offers hope in the form of a memorial, a garden created by friends and family, where her son's ashes are buried. As the garden grows, so grows the hope of this family. The journey is, however, a turbulent one, and each family member--a mother [Greene], a father, a sister, and a brother--finds individual paths toward health and peace in coming to terms with a family tragedy. Greene offers concrete suggestions throughout her book covering the first three years of her life without her son. She does not, however, promise a 'cure.' "There is no quick fix; there is no specific point in time when the wound will completely heal and life will return to 'normal'" she reminds her readers, but there are steps that must be taken, she also insists, if the parents and family members are to cope. Greene organizes her text for her audience knowing that they--not the casual reader who has not experienced this event and lost themselves along the way--need to know what the next day and the day after that and the day after that will bring in terms of solace from the searing pain of separation too soon and unnatural. "People may try to simplify your pain, but it is far complex than anyone realizes unless they have lost a child," she explains to a readership seeking answers. Greene recommends three basic steps that may seem simplistic to the reader who has not lost a child, but profound to those who have. Step one, she writes, is "Taking Care of You and Yours." Step two, "Relating to Others." Step three, perhaps the most helpful of three, "Taking Action" to manage the senselessness and helplessness that follow such a catastrophic event. The thing about Brenda Greene's text that makes it a must-read for all parents in her situation is her candidness about her resulting marriage problems and her relationship with her other children strained and confused during the first year following the death. By presenting these events in a true light and offering management techniques for keeping the family intact, Greene serves her readership well. Every individual who has lost a child knows the pain is singular and unlike any other death. The author addresses this issue with hope and encouragement that survival of those left behind is possible and that life will return in time although not the same life as before the death. This is what this audience wants to know and this is what Brenda Hahn Greene delivers--the truth. Life she comes to understand in her book is different and the pain lessens although the longing remains. This is what parents who have lost children need to know, and this is what Brenda Hahn Greene delivers in a book full of pain and promise that true healing takes place after all, but not without a strong focus, a wealth of strength, and a struggle to live again. We are as our garden grows--able to renew ourselves each year and to live again--but, differently. In this text, Brenda Hahn Greene is the master gardener. Suzie Smith
From My Son's Garden: A Personal Story of Growth and Healing After the Loss of a Child (Book) - 2/28/2002 4:29:12 PM
Planting implies "life." What a beautiful testimony to your son. I am sorry he is not with you. I am proud of you for finding the strength to go on and honor his beautiful memory by planting, writing, and sharing your wisdom. Bless you.
My Last Writing Assignment (Short Story) - 4/22/2018 12:48:58 AM
This piece is a beautiful loving tribute to Eileen.
I had to reread the sentence Ron refers to, but only because of the way your writing program didn't stretch the sentence to the end of the line--it's fine, meaning wise.
My Last Writing Assignment (Short Story) - 4/21/2018 9:04:15 AM
A very personal write that many of us as authors can identify with. It was poignant because it was the last time that all three of you were able to get together. Two things resonated with me.
I took I-65 to Wisconsin several times during my brief three years in Atlanta. One time a trucker relative of mine remarked, "You had to reserve a place in the ditch on 65 coming into Chicago. I never faced that icing problem, but I do recall turning north at Nashville only to find a single track and 8 inches of new snow all the way to Louisville, my destination that night. My car was weighted down and that helped me make the run with no difficulty.
You also reminded me that I have not attended my writers group, https://thefinaltwist.wordpress.com, for some time both because of my physical condition and lack of my lowered-floor van to take me there while it is being converted from my driving system. I miss those friendly folks although I would much have preferred more collaboration with individuals there rather than their writing assignments for their formula short story books.
There was only one line I couldn't figure out: “Yes, it is. Looks like it hasn’t stopped too many of though,”
Ron
Campfire (Short Story) - 4/20/2018 6:10:47 AM
There was a familiarity in this story of many campfires that I had the privilege of joining. But the seriousness of this one, with Brandon's anxiety over his brother's death and the eventual fight leading to puncturing of Spoons's lung is not the kind of talk around the campfire that I'm familiar with.
You may have used a voice dictation system like I do to write this because there were many typos that appear to be the result of failed voice recognition. Anyway, they interrupted by reading often making it harder to get into the story. I jotted down a few corrections, but there are many more…
"Fats, known for his persistent weight."
"Known for his accurate timing."
"These typos context (??)…"
“… On the ground …"
"Talk's cheap and there's nothing more to say."
Ron
Campfire (Short Story) - 4/20/2018 1:02:37 AM
Such a powerful story! Spoons had to take one for the team in order for Braden to get his head on straight.
From Rags to Riches (Short Story) - 4/18/2018 5:44:45 AM
A wonderful tale about your first dog, Rags. Guys like him leave a lasting impression… Priceless. My first dog was a rat terrier named Rags. He was a feisty little guy. He tried to save my twin brother and I when we were two and we tipped over beehives. One time by accident, he was locked in our central Wisconsin home for two weeks while our whole family went to visit relatives in north-central Indiana. When we returned, Rags had eaten part of the draperies to survive.
Ron
From Rags to Riches (Short Story) - 4/18/2018 12:36:16 AM
A truly beautiful story about Rags!
Soft Thoughts Drift Back (Poetry) - 4/21/2018 9:35:41 AM
Beautiful rendered poetry, my fellow poet. My little mutt, Zoe, died last week. I'll miss her until I die,. and beyond if possible.
Soft Thoughts Drift Back (Poetry) - 4/20/2018 7:44:08 AM
There is a tempered softness in this remembrance poem. The garden reminds you of them both and it is clear in your phrasing. I'm not as often reminded of my dog buried in the mid-front yard. But I do recall the agony of his passing.
Ron
Return to Narrow (Poetry) - 4/18/2018 7:20:25 AM
Living in different places certainly broadens the mind. And it's always good to know that you can return to the narrow place that childhood was.
Ron
Return to Narrow (Poetry) - 4/18/2018 6:51:50 AM
I didn't get the title, but it was cool poem, and I bet you got lots of hand me downs.
Making Wishes on Dandelion Petals (Poetry) - 4/17/2018 7:47:03 AM
I have been there done that on quite a few of your remembrances. "Maytag ringer." Oh yeah, for sure.
