ROANOKE TIMES
Copyright (c) 1995, Roanoke Times
DATE: Wednesday, December 27, 1995 TAG: 9512270051
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: 1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: CODY LOWE STAFF WRITER
At first glance, the pristine uniformity of the Old Dominion Memorial Gardens cemetery might appear a bit cluttered around one gravesite.
On closer inspection, the plot is obviously well and frequently cared for.
There is an orderly, colorful conglomeration of miniature ceramic buildings, figurines of shepherds, a cardboard cutout of Santa and a complete manger scene. Only slightly out of place in the Christmas display are Barney the purple dinosaur and his friend Baby Bop.
They may not be part of the biblical story of the birth of Christ or the established traditions of Santa Claus, but they were important to Kala Anne Adams during her short life.
So, almost two years after Kala's death at 1 year old in February 1994, her grandmother Cheryl Booth keeps Kala's favorite TV characters constantly present at the place she feels closest to her granddaughter.
``To me, this is her place. I feel close to her here,'' Booth said last week.
Frequent visits here, and doing little things like decorating the site for holidays, are part of the process of grieving she's still going through.
This holiday season is among the toughest times of year for parents and grandparents whose children have died, according to those who counsel them.
Bonnie Rourke is the facilitator of the Parents Grief Support Group that meets twice a month at the Fralin Center of Community Hospital on South Jefferson Street.
Rourke's first contact with the group, however, was as a member who had just experienced the death of her son Adam in April 1991.
``I was seeking so desperately for some place to make me feel better,'' Rourke said. ``It was literally a lifeline. I knew I could survive two more weeks'' until the next group meeting.
``It worked, because I'm still alive.''
Rourke, a licensed professional counselor, is the contact to whom newly grieving parents and grandparents are referred to help make that first visit easier.
The truth, though, as many members relate, is that no matter how much they want or need the support of others who have felt similar grief, that first visit to a group meeting can be hard.
When Booth's granddaughter Kala died, the family was given pamphlets at Community Hospital explaining what the grief support group is and how to get in contact.
It was almost two months before Booth came out of the shock surrounding her granddaughter's death from apnea and pneumonia and felt able to attend a meeting.
``The first time I went to the group, I thought, `I'll never be able to go back.' But I kept going and I learned the way I was feeling was natural. That I wasn't going nuts.''
The experience is so emotional that some people become ``overwhelmed with grief,'' said the group's newsletter editor, Lindy Boley. ``Some can't even talk and sometimes they don't come back [to the group]. I don't know if it is because they can't deal with everybody else's grief, too.
``I don't know why some don't come back. But I know the group is always there and they can come back any time.''
Boley's newsletter is sent to everyone who attends a group meeting, even once. The expense of the mailings is paid by Community Hospital, which also provides the meeting space free of charge.
Boley's daughter, Randi Hambrick, was 17 when she died in August 1993 of acute respiratory distress syndrome following a bout of pneumonia.
After two years of editing the newsletter, that job remains one of the hardest but also one of the most enjoyable things she does each month, Boley said.
The newsletter ``is my way of paying back what's been given to me - helping other people realize they are not alone, that people all over the country feel the same way.''
Even when one is fortunate enough to be surrounded by understanding co-workers or supportive Sunday school classmates, these women said, there is a real power to be found in the company of others who have been through a similar loss.
With the group, it's ``OK to be angry, to be hurt, to cry,'' Booth said.
And, most of all, it's OK to talk about the children and grandchildren they miss so much.
``Other people don't know how to handle it,'' Booth said. ``They start backing off. They're still friends, but they don't know what to say. They think if they say Kala's name they will upset me, but that is the most beautiful name to me.''
The group ``is the one place I can talk about Randi and not have people look at me funny,'' Boley said. ``I can mention her name, talk about how she used to be. Nobody looks at me like, `Are we going to talk about this again?' or `Is she going to cry?'''
While many people share that reluctance to mention dead children's names, "We appreciate the memory of our children,'' Rourke said. Many parents ``fear our children didn't live long enough to make a mark and that they will be forgotten. I know I don't want my son to be forgotten.''
The group is also a place where parents and grandparents do not hear the all-too-typical remarks of well-meaning but hurtful friends and family: ``You can have other children or grandchildren,'' or ``Don't cry,'' or ``You have to be strong for your wife.'' Or maybe the most cruel of all, ``When are you going to put it behind you and get on with your life?''
``That just makes everybody mad,'' Rourke said. ``How can you put losing a child behind you? I haven't figured out how to do it.''
In the group's most recent newsletter, ``Lindy put in there a piece pointing out that when you lose a parent, you become an orphan. When you lose a spouse, you become a widow or widower. But there is not a word for what you become when you lose a child. It's just too horrible a thought.
``There is no putting behind you. You can't replace them. You can get on with life, but you're not the same person you were and that's a hard thing for people to understand.''
``What usually happens, when they're told by a lot of people to move on, some people just clam up. That's why support groups work. You don't have to clam up.''
The group isn't only about one's own grief and tears and pain, Rourke said, as important as those are.
There comes a time when ``we start to feel others' pain. That is part of healing, and eventually you give back.''
The Parents' Grief Support Group meets the first and third Thursdays of each month in The Fralin Center, 903 S. Jefferson St., from 7 until 9 p.m. The meetings are free and open to anyone who has lost a child or grandchild.
LENGTH: Long : 127 lines ILLUSTRATION: PHOTO: 1. CINDY PINKSTON/Staff Cheryl Booth tends to theby CNBholiday decorations at the gravesite of her granddaughter Kala Anne
Adams, who died at 1 year old in 1994. color
2. Family members made a quilt square commemorating Kala's life and
added it to the SHARE/Parents Grief Support Group display at the
Festival of Trees in the First Union Tower. color
3. Kala Anne Adams is never far from her grandmother's thoughts.
color