Page 22 - 2016 Spring-Summer Issue

Death of a Child Creates

Ambiguous Losses

© Alex Staroseltsev/fotolia.comby Harriet Hodgson The car crash was bloody. A medical helicopter flew
2 2 |We Need Not Walk Alone my daughter to the nearest hospital, where surgeons
operated on her for 20 hours. Their efforts failed. “I’m
sorry,” the lead surgeon said. “As soon as we fixed one
problem another appeared. Your daughter is brain dead.”
My husband and I made the decision no parent wants to
make: We stopped all life support and met with an organ
donation representative.

She wore a low-cut blouse, not appropriate dress for the
situation, and every time she leaned over to point to
something, her breasts were more exposed. It was an odd
experience. Today, family members refer to this woman
as “Mrs. Bosom.” As time passed, we appreciated our
daughter’s planning even more. Thanks to her generosity,
two lives were saved and two people can see.

Although I’d experienced grief before, my daughter’s
death stunned me. Two days later, on the same weekend,
my father-in-law died. About eight weeks later my
brother died. Six months later, my former son-in-law
died from the injuries he received in another car crash.
His death made our twin grandchildren orphans and we
became their guardians. Our challenge, the greatest one
we ever faced, was to care for the twins, and grieve for
family members simultaneously.

Because I’m a non-fiction writer, I turned to my
occupation for information and comfort. During my
journey I came across the work of Pauline Boss, PhD,
Professor Emeritus at the University of Minnesota. Boss
did the original research on something called ambiguous
loss—unclear, unacknowledged loss that “defies closure.”
If you’re the parent of a missing child you are living with