Dear Kathleen,
You seemed to understand that Jack died and was buried today. As the oldest of the Kennedy grandchildren, you have a particular responsibility now – a special responsibility to John [my cousin, John F. Kennedy, Jr.] and Joe [Kathleen's brother]. Be kind to others and work for your country.
Love, Daddy
Dear Jack,
There are no words to dispel your feelings at this time, and there is no time that will ever dispel them. Nor is it any easier the second time that it was the first. And yet I cannot share your grief, because no one could share mine.
When one of your children goes out of your life, you think of what he might have done witha few more years and you wonder what you are going to do with the rest of yours. You never really accept it; you just go through the motions.
Then one day, because there is a world to be lived in, you find yourself a part of it again, trying to accomplish something – something that he did not have time enough to do.
An perhaps that is the reason for it all. I hope so.
Sincerely, Joe.
I have a set of lessons learned about how to console those who have suffered a loss, based on my own personal experience and observation over the years.
First, go to the funeral. Thirty years ago, Mayor Richard Lee of New Haven, Connecticut, told me that he always went to funerals. it’s there that you see people, he said, and that they see you. It’s there that you mingle with families, listen to them talk, and lend yoru full support. I had never heard that advice stated so explicitly, but he was exactly right. Death opens an enormous hole in the heart. A funeral service brings together those who can help fill that hold.
Second, call or write your friend when someone close to her or him has died. It is remarkable how few people actually reach out in tough times. Perhaps they don’t know what to say; perhaps they think the person would prefer to be left alone. It is better to try and be rejected than to never try at all. Your friend can always resist the effort – not answer the phone, not open the letter. But it is hard to imagine anyone not appreciating it.
Third, never say, “You will get over it.” People rarely do.
The death of a loved one rips us apart, shakes us up, hurts terribly. So my fourth tip is to embrace the person who suffers. I think of the kiss my mother would give me when I would scrape my knee or cut my finger. Her act of love was more healing than any antiseptic.
Make it clear in the letter of phone call to your friend that she or he is wonderful. The outstretched arm, the warm embrace, the freshly baked cookies, or the fragrant flowers do not replace the life. Not by any means. But they do say to the grieving frind, “You are loved. You are cherished.”
“I’ll lend you for a little time, a child of mine,” He said. “For you to love while he lives, and mourn when he or she is dead. It may be six or seven years, or twenty-two or three. But will you, till I call them back, take care of him for me?
She’ll bring her charms to gladden you, and shall her stay be brief, you’ll have her lovely memories as solace for your grief. I cannot promise she will stay, since all from earth return, But there are lessons taught down there I want this child to learn.
I’ve looked the wide world over in my search for teachers true, And from the throngs that crowd life’s lanes, I have selected you. Now will you give him all your love, nor think the labor vain, nor hate me when I come to call, to take him back again.
I fancied that I heard them say, Dear Lord, Thy will be done, For all the joy thy child shall bring, the risk of grief, we’ll run. We’ll shelter her with tenderness, we’ll love her while we may; And for the happiness we’ve known, will ever grateful stay. But shall the angels call for her much sooner than we planned, We’ll brave the bitter grief that comes, and try to understand!
