The death of our child is the worst thing that can happen to us, however he or she died. For each family, the pain and loss are unique and it is almost impossible to know how to go on, how to survive. But some of us have to bear also the burden of a society which is harshly critical of our child for a variety of reasons; he or she may have died because of an addiction to drugs or alcohol or solvent abuse, perhaps while committing a crime, or have been responsible for the deaths of others. When these circumstances exist, we often feel that we too are being blamed and criticised. There is an implication that our child ‘brought it on him or herself’ and that therefore we as a family are not entitled to the same respect or sympathy for our grief that is shown to others. But our grief is real, however our child died. It is never lessened by difficult circumstances; rather the opposite is true, it is intensified.

This leaflet is written for families who have suffered from a judgemental and critical society, however their child died. We thank all those parents who have shared their experiences and thoughts with us, and so have made it possible for this leaflet to be written.

The years before our child’s death

Some of us have been on a switchback of trauma and conflict for years before our child died. We have lived with unpredictability, had lengthy discussions with schools, police or social services, always hoping that the problems would be resolved and that our loved child would overcome their troubles. We may have had to cope with constant anxiety, asking ourselves “Where is he?”, “What is she doing?”, waiting for the next knock on the door to bring another call to visit the police station or hospital. Sometimes we have found ourselves in conflict with the authorities over what is best for our child; sometimes we have had no idea that there was a problem at all. We may have lost touch with our child altogether, and news of the death may come after a long silence, interspersed only with unverifiable rumours. Whatever the individual circumstances, our grief journey begins when we are already at a low ebb, worn down with worry and uncertainty. For some, it will seem as if our grief journey actually began long ago when our troubled child became unreachable, and death is the final phase of a long and hopeless nightmare. But as long as our child was alive, there was still the hope that things could improve. It was this thought that kept us going when we were locked into the switchback of hope and despair, through the strain of pretending that things were OK to the wider world, of going to work, of trying to keep a family functioning normally in the face of repeated problems. However difficult these times were, they came to an abrupt end with the shattering news that our son or daughter had died.

The early days

The news of our child’s death is always a terrible shock, whether it is brought by the police knocking on the door or comes after a long stay in hospital. Shock often protects us from reality for a while, but this detachment does not last and feelings flood in, threatening to overwhelm us. For parents whose child has died in a way that others may judge as anti-social, these feelings are complicated from the outset. Even before we are subjected to the thoughts and judgements of others, we begin to accuse ourselves. We think we must have failed as parents because our child truanted, stole a car, took drugs, and now is dead. Most parents feel some guilt that their child is dead, that they have not been able to keep them alive, that if they had acted differently they could have prevented the death. If we are the parent of a disturbed or violent child, we may feel this guilt so acutely that it may prevent us from beginning to grieve at all.

The contradictory nature of our feelings can be very frightening. We may feel violent rage at what our child has done, to himself and to our family, and yet also feel intensely protective of him, understanding his pain and confusion in a new light. We may feel an unvoiced relief - and then feel guilty - that the long nightmare is over, that there is an end to the trauma and uncertainty of what she will do next, yet wish we could turn the clock back so she was still alive. We may feel shame that his or her actions have damaged others and yet want to find someone or something else to blame for what happened, for it not to have been our child’s responsibility. Each particular set of circumstances will have its own agonies.

If we have other children we have to share the news with them, as well as with grandparents, other relatives and close friends, and we have to decide what we are going to say to them. The police will be involved, there may be other agencies such as social services and school to talk to, and often the media will be at the door. As well as the inevitable procedures such as identification and post-mortem, there may be decisions to make about how much we tell, at least in the early days. If the media are persistent, it is a good idea to make a brief statement and release a photograph, and then ask them to respect our privacy and our grief.

When we begin to plan the funeral (which can only take place after the body has been released by the Coroner, if he or she is involved), the pain of the circumstances of the death may make it hard to make decisions. The TCF leaflet Preparing your child's funeral may help us as a family to focus on the whole of our child’s life and their place within the family, rather than on the immediate past.

Other people

Families often suffer additional burdens because of the attitudes of others. Rumours and untruths may abound, people either avoid speaking of what has happened or unwittingly say hurtful things. We may find that those whom we thought were our friends ostracise us, while help is found in unexpected places. Our surviving children may hear dreadful things about their dead brother or sister and want us to tell them that the stories are untrue. If we can, we will; but we may not always be able to reassure them or to protect them. We may find ourselves needing to support vulnerable members of our family while feeling unsupported ourselves. We may find the attitude of the police or social services critical of us and hard to bear. Sometimes we will imagine censure and criticism where none was intended, but the feelings of isolation and shame are real to us and we suffer intensely.

There are some constructive things we can do. We can tell our surviving children that we love them and that we still love their dead brother or sister, that love is not conditional, that we can be angry at someone's actions but still love them. We can answer their questions honestly, while not burdening them with detail they cannot understand, or absorb at the present time. Our friends may not know what to say to us, but we too may be locked into silence, even though we want to talk. There are some people we must talk to, such as our surviving child's teacher. If help is offered to us, such as trauma counselling, we can consider it carefully rather than dismissing it out of hand. We can try not to isolate ourselves through fear of what others might be saying or thinking, though this can be very hard to do. The first times we do things are usually the worst; the first time we go shopping, return to work, go to church. Each person can move only at their own pace, and each family member will have different feelings and pre-occupations. Support groups of people who have been through similar tragedies can be very useful in helping us to feel we are not alone.

Some of us suffer much more than others from publicity at the inquest and from negative, or even false, reporting of stories about our child. TCF has a leaflet, On inquests, which may be of some practical help. The length of time that often occurs between the death and the inquest means that feelings we had hoped were in the past are re-awakened; we seem to be travelling this painful road for a second time. The media may resurrect our story many times, even years later, when a similar event occurs.

Longer-term family issues

Such a devastating blow takes its toll on every member of the family, and in the long term each of us must find our own way of grieving, of adapting to what has happened, of living with what cannot be changed, and of getting on with the rest of our life. There may be conflict between parents about past events and how these were handled; such conflicts can be bitter and damaging. Sometimes we find difficulty in accepting the circumstances of our child’s death; talking about the death, and the events surrounding it, may be too painful for us and we may feel deep shame and guilt. Tolerance, patience and understanding will be needed if the family is not to break apart.

Our surviving children also have much to contend with. We may be over-anxious, protective or excessively strict because of what has happened, and our children may themselves be battling with a whole army of conflicting feelings. They may be furiously angry with their dead sibling for the chaos he or she has wrought within the family, the years of anxiety which may have shadowed their lives. They may be angry with us, their parents, either for not preventing the death, or for allowing their dead brother or sister to behave in the way they did. They may feel that we were not honest, that we colluded or covered up for their troubled sibling, that the family was forced into isolation by what was going on. They may feel they are being labelled because of what has happened, or feel tempted to experiment with some of the same experiences, or feel pressure to do so from their peers. Their self-esteem may be low, they may feel isolated, and as a result their work and their ability to cope with social situations may suffer. Good friends, who can cope with mood swings and who stick by them in the bad times, are a lifeline. So, too, are adults who can listen to them, and who are perhaps more able than their parents to bring some degree of calm into the turmoil. Where we find that the problems are insoluble, it is better to seek professional help than to allow situations to fester in silence or bitterness.

Sources of help

The Compassionate Friends (TCF) offers different sources of help through its group meetings, Postal Library, leaflets and the quarterly Newsletter. Help is also available through the National Office, through letters, the telephone and the website. For surviving brothers and sisters, there is SIBBS (Support In Bereavement for Brothers and Sisters), who have their own Newsletter too.

Some people can channel their restless energy into fund-raising (for TCF or other causes) and in campaigning for changes in law or practice concerning the cause of their son or daughter’s death. Others may set up, or join, a group which campaigns against the destructive forces which led to their child’s death.

The future

Although we are scarred for ever by what has happened, time does help us to find ways of coping and moving on. We can begin to remember the good times we enjoyed as a family, the joy our child brought us before events overtook them, and to find memories which we can hold in our hearts and carry forward into the rest of our lives. If our surviving children are quite young at the time of the tragedy, we need to find a way of continuing to talk about what happened, so that as our children grow older they reach a mature understanding of the facts, and do not have to cope either with secrecy or with falsehood. Though anniversaries are painful, they can be a time to talk, to touch base, to share memories, and to avoid the tragedy becoming something that cannot be spoken about.

Our child is a part of our family for ever - long after the media and society have forgotten the circumstances in which they died - and we will always love them.

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