There are times in the life of most children when they must deal with loss. Perhaps a close friend moves away; a pet dies; their parents get divorced; or myriad other situations that make them feel sad, afraid and abandoned.
For children who are part of a military family, separation from a person who is central in their lives is often a lengthy process—and one that gets repeated many times. When their father, mother or other close family member is deployed, these children not only need to deal with missing them; they also must handle the anxiety of knowing that their loved one is in danger.
The National Military Family Association conducted a study that revealed that kids who have a parent deployed experience higher levels of anxiety and stress than their civilian friends.
But there are things you can do to help your child prepare for a deployment and handle the time when a parent is away.
Before leaving for deployment, spend as much extra time with your child as possible. Create special memories and let them know that, when you return, you will continue to work on fun activities together.
Be honest with your child about the facts of your spouse’s deployment in an age-appropriate manner. You might want to get a map that shows where he or she is, and create a calendar of days to countdown when the parent will be back (if you know the date).
Maintain a sense of stability by keeping as many routines the same as possible. For example, mealtimes, bedtimes and other day-to-day activities should continue as they always have. This can be very reassuring to a child.
Encourage your child to express his or her feelings openly and honestly. Tell them it’s perfectly normal for them to feel a mixture of sadness, fear, pride and even anger—and let them know you have those feeling sometimes yourself.
Keep the lines of communication going through letters, emails, phone calls or Facetime (when possible) with the deployed parent.
Suggest ways your child can remain connected to the parent who is away—for example, by saying a special prayer each night, or making a scrapbook of their activities to show mommy or daddy when they return.
Take care of your own mental and physical health. It’s important that you remain as steady as possible to help your children feel supported and safe. So reach out to your sources of support and also to other military families. There’s nothing like speaking with someone who understands what you are going through.
If you child or teen is struggling with depression, anxiety or anger related to the deployment of a family member, we’re here to help. Contact North Shore Child & Family Guidance Center at (516) 626-1971.
Elmo to the Rescue
Wondering how to help your 2 – 5 year old cope with a deployment? Sesame Street has created a program called “Talk, Listen, Connect,” a bilingual education outreach program designed for military families and young children to share, watch the program below.
Words matter. Today, this is no more evident than in the incendiary rhetoric spoken – and tweeted – that has contributed to American citizens being pitted against one another.
There is a growing sentiment that the mass shooting in a Pittsburgh synagogue that took the lives of 11 congregants was fueled by hate speech that ignited the shooter’s growing rage.
Although that subject is being abundantly covered in the media, it is the words associated with another kind of shocking death that I wish to draw attention to here.
When someone takes their life, they are most frequently reported to have “committed suicide.” Commit is a word that connotes a criminal act. Yet, suicide is not a crime.
Desiree Woodland, a mom who lost her son to suicide shared her experience in a National Alliance on Mental Illness publication. “My son did not commit a crime. He believed the only way to end the unbearable pain was to end his life. He died because he didn’t have the words to express the deep psychological/biological turmoil he was experiencing.”
If not a crime, is suicide an immoral, depraved or sinful act? It isn’t if it is the consequence of mental illness, unbearable stress, or trauma.
Nonetheless, family members who are survivors of suicide loss report the experience of others speaking in hushed tones around them. Some people refer to suicide as a selfish act, the result of poor parenting, a deficit in the family or all of the above.
At the same time that there is a growing demand to tone down divisive and hateful rhetoric in order to prevent interpersonal violence, there needs to be discussion about mental illness and suicide.
According to Denver psychotherapist Dr. Stacy Freedenthall, “If changing our language can help suicidal people to feel safer asking for help, then changing language can save lives.”
In academic journals there appears to be an inclination to use the term “completed suicide.” However, committed and completed are terms that advance the stigma and shame related to suicide and should be avoided.
Increasingly there is preference to the expression “died by suicide,” which avoids the judgmental undertone of “committed suicide.”
Perhaps a contributor to The Mighty, a digital health community created to empower and connect people facing health challenges and disabilities, said it best: “By shifting our language around suicide, we have the power to reduce some of the massive shame carried by survivors of suicide. If you feel scared or helpless about what to say to someone who’s lost someone to suicide, take comfort in knowing that, by changing your language about suicide, you’re offering an act of kindness.”
When I tell people I’m afraid to fly, the usual response is, “Oh yeah, me too.” They complain about uncomfortable seats, long lines at security and baggage check, lousy food, the high cost, and on and on. They may even express a bit of trepidation about the flying part itself.
But let me be clear: I am TERRIFIED to fly. I had flown a few times as a kid and as a teenager and it didn’t bother me much, but by the time I was in my mid-twenties, I had concluded that there’s no logical way an object that weighs several tons can stay up in the sky for hours on end without falling to the ground.
When it did succeed (which it almost always did), I considered it akin to a miracle. It’s not the most rational perspective, but rationality doesn’t play into it. Yes, it’s safer to fly than drive, statistically speaking. Don’t give me the facts. My gut says, human beings aren’t meant to be thousands of feet in the air.
Still, 17 years ago, I had a very compelling reason to get on an airplane, and despite my fears, I did it, wobbly legs and all. After more than a year of waiting, my husband and I were headed to Guatemala to meet our daughter and bring her home.
Maya was born on July 10, 2000, to a single woman living in poverty—unfortunately, an all-too-common scenario for many mothers and children in that country and other parts of the world. For us, though, her birth was the furthest thing from unfortunate. It felt, and still feels to this day, like something that was meant to be.
Rather than undergoing infertility procedures with uncertain results, I had decided early on that what was important to me was to be a mom, not to give birth. Though I had a wonderful husband (still do), great stepchildren, and a fulfilling career, much of the time I felt empty inside. As clichéd as it sounds, I knew what the expression “hole in my heart” meant. Going to baby shower after baby shower, watching my friends go through pregnancy and childbirth and starting families… I did my best to be happy for them, and in many respects I truly was. But it became increasingly difficult to not feel sorry for myself. I didn’t need lots of money, or a huge house, or a BMW. I just wanted what it seemed so easy for my friends to have: a child.
Scary as it was, entering the belly of the beast—the jet headed to Guatemala—meant that the life I had dreamed of for years was finally about to begin. For people hoping to adopt, what replaces labor pains is waiting, and we had waited a very long time.
After making the decision that adoption was the right route for us, my husband, Phil, and I did some research, chose an adoption agency, and received a videotape of several babies from which to choose our “assignment.”
Watching that video felt so strange: seeing images of beautiful, innocent little human beings and trying to “pick” the one who would become the center of our lives. I don’t know if there is such a thing as divine intervention, or fate, but both my husband and I quickly were drawn to the same child. The video showed the foster parent blowing bubbles to several different babies. Maya’s eyes lit up with delight as she reached for the floating orbs and they popped in her fingers. She giggled—no, it was more like a belly laugh—which seemed to us an amazing accomplishment for a three-month old. She was the one.
Next up, tons of paperwork, agency visits, court appearances. Photos and videos periodically arrived from Maya’s wonderful foster family. She was absolutely gorgeous. She laughed, played, cried and screamed with abandon. Friends who saw the video called her “spirited” and told us that we were in for quite a ride with this one.
On July 10, 2001, Maya turned one. We had started the entire adoption process months before she was even born. But late in August, the word came from our lawyer in Guatemala: The paperwork was done. Make your plane reservations.
A few weeks later, we were on a 7 a.m. flight from JFK to Guatemala. It was a gorgeous day, bright and sunny, without much of a wind. A good day to fly, I thought, although I didn’t really feel like any day was a good day to fly. It had been 10 years since I’d been on a plane, but at least we had good weather.
I was still scared, but there was no question I was getting on that airplane. The date was September 11, 2001.
Our flight made it as far as Miami before all air traffic was required to land, a little after 9 a.m. We ended up renting a car and driving home from Florida, without our daughter, and with a profound sadness that was felt by everyone in our country. With embassies around the world closed for weeks, we were forced to wait, once again, to meet the little girl who we felt was our own but had never seen or heard or held in person.
Unlike the many stories of those who lost loved ones that day, ours had a happy ending. We were able to have an escort bring Maya to the U.S. on November 24, 2001, ending what had been a very long and painful labor. She was 16 months old. And in the 17 years since, life for our family has had tremendous highs and, yes, some lows, but never a day goes by where I don’t feel grateful for being Maya’s mom.
Note: This story, written by Jenna Kern-Rugile, the Director of Communications at North Shore Child & Family Guidance Center, first appeared in Long Island Parents & Children magazine.
Honorees Michael and Andrea Leeds, state Sen. Todd Kaminsky and Guidance Center Executive Director Andrew Malekoff. (Photo courtesy of North Shore Child & Family Guidance Center)
North Shore Child & Family Guidance Center’s 65th Sapphire Anniversary gala raised over $620,000 to support the Guidance Center’s mission to bring hope and healing to children and their families who are experiencing mental health and substance use challenges. The Oct. 25 gala, which honored philanthropists Andrea and Michael Leeds and Americana Manhasset’s Champions for Charity, marked the most successful fundraising event in the Guidance Center’s history.
Guest speaker Linda Beigel Schulman.
The event included speaker Linda Beigel Schulman, the mother of Scott J. Beigel, one of the teachers killed in the shooting in Parkland, Florida. Her speech brought everyone to their feet.
Honorees Andrea and Michael Leeds and Americana Manhasset’s Champions for Charity drew supporters from as close as Long Island and as far away as California.
Andrea Leeds has been a Board Member at the Guidance Center for more than 20 years. She and her husband Michael are dedicated philanthropists, and they have supported many causes both on Long Island and across the globe.
Americana Manhasset’s Champions for Charity, hosts an annual holiday shopping event that supports more than 100 not-for-profit organizations, including the Guidance Center. The event, which this year takes place from Nov. 29 through Dec. 2, has raised nearly $12 million since its inception in 1996.
Many contributed to planning the gala including co-chairs Matilde and Cliff Broder and Rosemarie and Mitchell Klipper, journal co-chairs Jo-Ellen Hazan and the recently deceased John J. Gutleber, who passed away unexpectedly in September, and auction co-chairs Deirdre Costa Major and Charles G. Chan. The Mistress of Ceremonies was News 12 Long Island’s Carol Silva.
Guidance Center Executive Director Andrew Malekoff, Americana’s Deirdre Costa Major and Guidance Center President Nancy Lane.
“We are extremely grateful to our honorees, speaker, mistress of ceremonies, donors, sponsors and all who worked so hard on the gala committee,” said Guidance Center Executive Director Andrew Malekoff. “For 65 years, we have been dedicated to providing mental health services to all children and families, regardless of their ability to pay. And because of the generosity of everyone involved, we will be able to continue to provide the best in care to the community.”
