Parents share heartbreak over loss of a child

Joy & Grief

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buy this photo Barb Sparks of Heyworth talks with her son Joshua, 2, about the Christmas tree at Samantha's grave site. (Pantagraph/LORI ANN COOK)

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  • Joy & Grief
  • Joy & Grief
  • Joy & Grief
  • Joy & Grief

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In a stained-glass window at St. Patrick Catholic Church of Merna, an angel holds the Star of Bethlehem.

Seventy inches tall and 20 inches wide, the window represents Christmas among a series of windows depicting the Catholic seasons.

This is a symbol of the hope carried by the Christian faith but also a symbol of heartbreak for a Heyworth couple, Tim and Barb Sparks. Their financial commitment paid for the window in the east Bloomington church's new sanctuary - that plus funeral memorials made in honor of their week-old daughter, Samantha.

"Our life is completely missing something," Barb said of the daughter who died a year ago. "She's a part of our everyday. We talk about her every day."

Christmas season is a time of joy, but also grieving. Families gather to see each other. They remember those missing.

Last year, the Sparkses forced themselves to celebrate Christmas, if for no one else than for Joshua, their other child, who turns 3 in March.

They enter this season again determined. They expect this Christmas to be harder than the last; last year, they were numb with the shock of losing a child, who they thought was healthy until the day she died.

The coroner's office concluded that Samantha died at 8:16 p.m. on Dec. 21, 2005, on her eight day of life, from a kink or twist in her bowel, which caused an infection. The Sparkses remain dumbfounded.

They say Samantha seemed OK on Dec. 20. She spit up, but spitting up isn't unusual for a 1-week-old. When she vomited the next day, Barb took her to the doctor's office. The doctor's office sent her to OSF St. Joseph Medical Center in an ambulance.

The parents' concerns kept rising as Tim arrived at the hospital. The staff there spoke of taking Samantha to St. Francis in Peoria for specialized care. Soon after, they asked the parents if they wanted their child baptized by on-staff clergy. Then, she stopped breathing and the parents had to leave the room.

Much solace is gained through church, and they feel closest to Samantha when they are there.

It has made the transition to a new sanctuary a struggle, as their closeness seemed partially tied to the exact place, the sanctuary where Samantha's funeral was held.

But when parishioners were asked to assemble pews in the new structure, Tim took time off work to volunteer.

And then there is the window. They said their pastor first suggested buying the $5,000 window with money they already had pledged, plus memorials, and the couple said they took to the idea at once.

The window represents Samantha's season, and the star is a symbol for her. Her grandmother gave her a stuffed baby doll with "A Star Is Born" written on it; Samantha was buried with the doll. A variation on "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" played at her funeral.

This year, along with Christmastime grief, the Sparkses endure Samantha's first birthday and death date and the anniversary of her funeral. They shopped for her and donated her presents to Toys for Tots. They face another new year without her.

But they plan to go to the Christmas Eve children's Mass tonight and to celebrate Christmas with family in spite of it all.

Said Tim Sparks, "I think for the rest of our lives, with Joshua, and with other children - if we're blessed with other children - Christmas will be a happy time. But there will always be something missing. I guess the way we'll deal with that is to keep her a part of our lives and make sure Joshua knows who she is, and to remember her during this month and during Christmas."


Celebrating Christmas in spite of it all

By Steve Arney | sarney@pantagraph.com

Mary Butcher of Bloomington recalls the last conversation with her son, 25-year-old Jerome McDonald, on Dec. 19, 1992.

"I remember him saying, 'Mama, I'm going shopping. Do you want something?' I said, 'Whatever you want me to have, you can get me.'"

He went to a club after Christmas shopping. He was murdered in the parking lot.

The other night at a church podium, Dan Brady read the names of deceased children, as he has 18 other times for the annual candlelight service hosted by Compassionate Friends, a support group for parents who have lost children at any age for any reason.

Alphabetically, Brady read the names for some 150 families represented at the Dec. 10 interfaith service at Holy Trinity Catholic Church. It took him 5½minutes.

These are the empty seats at the table, children who died from illnesses, natural causes, accidents, homicides and suicides, and those who never took a breath - stillborn, miscarried and aborted.

A loss can be so crushing that all Christmas cheer is gone.

Butcher's daughter, Beverly Pedro, also Bloomington, lost her child, Courtney McDonald, in 2003 at age 18 after a long illness. Pedro said she has not been able to celebrate Christmas since then.

But most parents celebrate, often adding some sort of special honor.

Barbara Malone of Bloomington bought a special tree in honor of her son, Lance Malone, who died of an undetected heart defect in 2003 a week before his 19th birthday.

People often don't know what to say to an anguished parent, but Malone said each expression of love from Lance's friends has soothed her as she struggles through the loss of her youngest of five.

She said she knows of at least three who took steps she finds overwhelming: They tattooed her son's name to their bodies. One young man stopped her at a store and pulled up his shirt to reveal a cross tattooed across his chest and the names of his deceased brother and Lance tattooed on either side.

Said Malone, "I still get cards in the mail. I still get letters."

Linda and Tom Ricker lost their only child, Sam, 15 years ago to chicken pox. She said for the first 10 years it felt as if she was holding her breath.

But Christmas arrives, and she has refused to skip any Christmas over grief since her brother, Tommy Mitchell, died at 16 in 1970 - 40 minutes after Christmas Day lapsed into Dec. 26.

She said, "I love Christmas. My brother loved Christmas. I'm not going to give up Christmas because someone I love can't be with me."


Support

Compassionate Friends is a support group for families who've lost a child of any age. It typically meets at 7:30 p.m. on the second Monday of the month at St. Patrick's Church of Merna, Towanda-Barnes Road at Illinois 9, east Bloomington. For more information, call (309) 828-0857.

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