No matter how honest you are I know that you have told this lie at least once in your life. That lie is the answer to the question, “how are you?” And that lie is: “I’m fine.” In chapter F of my book, After the Flowers Die, I write about the notion of fake fineness. As a bereaved mom I don’t know how many times I answered ‘I’m fine’ when someone asked me how I was after my 8 year-old son, Garrett, died. In reality, I was the furthest thing from fine. Sometimes it is easier to

As I celebrated Canadian Thanksgiving in October this year with my family, I thought about the past 9 Thanksgivings without Garrett. Our 8-year-old son, Garrett, was accidently shot and killed in a hunting accident in 2008. In the months—and possibly years—following Garrett’s death, I found very little to be thankful for. In fact, everything in my life suddenly became difficult. I was going through the motions of living and paid little attention to my surroundings or other pe

I forgive you. . . three powerful little words, but how do you find the courage to say them, let alone mean them, when you are dealing with a situation as huge as the death of your child?! In the ten years since my son, Garrett, was accidentally shot and killed while hunting, I have met hundreds of other bereaved parents and every one of them has struggled on some level with the concept of forgiveness, no matter how their child died. Whether those parents had to forgive: some

The minute our children are born we earn the title of parent; and with that title comes a huge amount of responsibility. Our role changes daily from caregiver, to doctor, to guardian, to chef, to teacher, to name a few. As parents we want what is best for our children. We want to teach them how to be happy and helpful, honest and admirable, confident and caring, independent and inspirational. Often, we spend a lot of time researching and reading to find the best practices of

After my eight-year-old son, Garrett, was accidently shot and killed in a hunting accident, I was exposed to a degree of human kindness and support that I never imagined—support that I will never forget. Since Garrett’s death, I’ve often opened Facebook and read posts directed towards bereaved parents like, “My thoughts and prayers are with so-and-so.” These posts are a way for people to express their own personal feelings towards a tragedy. They make it appear that bereaved

Often in our society when someone dies many people offer support with words of comfort. The most common phrase I can think of is, I’m so sorry for your loss. Having to live without the physical presence of our loved one is an enormous loss, in fact, we can dwell on this loss every day. But have you ever stopped to consider the things that you didn’t lose after their death? Our 8-year-old son, Garrett, was accidently shot and killed in a hunting accident in 2008. And while the