Do you ever find comfort from a stranger?

While in Australia over Christmas, I met a young woman, an outsider to my world, who knew nothing of my losses.  I don’t usually tell new people I meet how I’ve lost so many family members; it blows their minds.  But I’m glad I did with her!

In our little cottage in Australia, I have a photo wall of dead people. That may seem strange to some, but to anyone who is traveling this road through grief, it’s not so odd. I love my wall.  It has photos of family members that have died: my only sister Tarnia, my adored mom, and our daughter Savannah.

While I love the wall, I guess it’s confronting to some, maybe a bit morbid. But it’s no different to having them there if they were alive. It’s just that they aren’t!

My husband and I have decided to build a new home in Australia.  And the woman, Kim, who is handling our home plans had to meet with us to discuss the changes we’d made to the sketches.

During her two-hour consultation, we sat in front of my wall. Kim said: “It’s nice to finally meet you both….What brought you to this little country town anyway?”

I wasn’t sure whether to tell her about my sister, how after she was killed, we wanted to be near her children and my brother in-law.  But I did, and she was shocked and offered her condolences.  I pointed out the photo of Tarnia I have on my wall, and I could see in her eyes that she felt genuinely sorry for my loss.

After a few minutes of her absorbing my bombshell about Tarnia, we got back to business.

“So,” Kim said, “I see you’ve enlarged one of the bedrooms. Why was that?”

“That’s our daughter’s room, so we’ve decided to increase her space.”

“Okay, so how many children do you have?”

This is where it always gets tricky!  I’d already traumatized her with Tarnia’s story. Should I tell her about Savannah too?

I know people can freak out when you tell them; it’s like I’ve somehow grown two heads!  Some don’t know how to react, and I notice them shift in their chair, uncomfortable and not knowing what to say with the information that we had two children but one died.

So I decided not to go there, just to say we have one child, Dempsey. We discussed our house plans and while Peter stepped outside to take a call, Kim was admiring my photos on the wall, including a family portrait, with Dempsey AND Savannah in it.

I could see her mind ticking; she could clearly see there were two children in the photo. I have to admit, I was slightly amused that I knew what she was thinking: Who is the other little girl in the photo? I also knew she wasn’t going to ask.

A few days later, Kim had to phone me over some house stuff. I guess her curiosity got the better or her and that conversation went like this.

“So, Diana, Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“I couldn’t help but notice in your family portrait that there are two children. Was the other little girl from a previous marriage?”

I had to smile…funny, I never imagined someone thinking that, especially since I had told her I’d been with Peter since I was a teenager.

So I decided to spill the beans, tell her EVERYTHING, how over three years, half my family had passed away!  Her reaction was shock, disbelief, amazement, and…support.

She went on to ask if I minded telling her what Savannah died from?  She also wanted to know how I coped, among other things. I found the whole conversation so comforting. Here was a complete stranger, a home consultant, giving me comfort that some of my friends haven’t been able to supply.

We chatted for almost an hour, not about trivial house plans but about our hopes and our fears. And I have to wonder why this stranger could talk to me about all this while some of my closest friends can’t?

I believe it’s because my friends feel that talking about Savannah or Mum or Tarnia will upset me, that somehow it will remind me of all the sad stuff.  In reality, I want my friends to take a moment to mention my lost one’s names, or tell a story of something they remember. It is soothing to the soul of anyone who has lost a loved one. It keeps their memory alive for us who remain without them.

So to any of you reading who haven’t lost a child, or a parent, or a sibling, or somebody special, I encourage you to talk about our loved ones.

And as for my new friend who is helping build our home, there’s a bond there now. The last conversation I had with Kim, she told me she hadn’t stopped thinking about me, Savannah or our chat.  She said it’s changed her priorities.  She also told me she had always wanted to go to Italy, more than anything – and that she’s going, this year, now!

Diana Doyle 2011

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Diana Doyle

Diana Doyle lives in Los Angeles with her husband, Peter, and her six-year-old daughter Dempsey. Their daughter Savannah was born in 1999. She was diagnosed with Metachromatic Leukodystrophy, which is similar to Lou Gehrig’s disease at the age of two-and-a-half. She died at age four. Since then, Diana has been speaking and writing in hopes of helping others who are dealing with losses of all kinds.

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