Colors of Goodbye ( Death of a Child)

ColorsofGoodbye.com ^ | April 6, 2016 | September Vaudrey

[cdga5for4]

Combining literary narrative and raw reflection, September Vaudrey walks through one of life’s worst losses―the death of a child―and slowly becomes open to watching for the unexpected ways God carries her through it. It’s a story of love and tragedy in tandem; a deeply personal memoir from a life forever changed by one empty place. And at its core, Colors of Goodbye calls to the deepest part of our spirits to know that death is not the and that life can be beautiful still.

[cdga5for4]

I hope you indulge me a bit as a 10-year vet of Free Republic. Yes, I am plugging a book and if you want to remove it, please feel free to do so. I don't want to overstep my bounds.

With that said, I have read one of the most remarkable books that I've read in my entire life titled Colors of Goodbye: A Memoir of holding on, letting go, and reclaiming joy in the wake of loss. It was written by September Vaudrey. It launched yesterday it already has 44 reviews on Amazon, all of which are 5-star reviews. It also received a "starred" review from Publishers Weekly.

This is my recap of the book. If you are dealing with grief or loss, I couldn't more strongly encourage you to read or do anything else:

I received an early manuscript of this book about a month ago in the form of a .pdf. I began reading the book on my phone and read the entire book on that platform in less than 24 hours. It is a 300-page book and not an easy read yet I was so drawn in by the richness of September's words and the manner in which she drew me in as a reader.

While I'm sure most who will read this book may be female, as a male this is one of the top five books that I've ever read, and it may be at the very top. I received an actual copy of the book today and it's a beautiful book. It was beautiful with just words on paper before the pictures and artwork, and it has been enhanced that much more since. I opened the actual book today and wanted to gauge if maybe I was in a frame of mind when I read the book that affected my initial response to it. I opened to one page midway through the book and knew immediately that it was everything I believed it to be during my initial reading.

You need to get your hands on this book and, when you do, clear your day because you won't be able to do anything else, no matter the importance. It's that special. This book is rich in content, heartbreaking, uplifting yet real, and a true blessing. I can't imagine I would ever more highly recommend a book.

Again, if this is inappropriate to post here, please feel free to remove.

[publius911]

Bookmark for later read.
I hope this thread remains.

[golux]

Will do.

[NEMDF]

I will have to look into this. We lost my nephew 5/31/2013, and he has never been found. This book might be good for his dad.

[cyclotic]

Totally appropriate.

A friend’s nephew was diagnosed Monday with a brain tumor and it’s obviously weighing heavily on them.

Initial diagnoses is that while in an inoperable area, it’s probably treatable.

One of my kids just got diagnosed with a chronic disease. It won’t kill him but it requires some big lifestyle changes and lots of treatment and possible surgery. It’s a big change for all of us.

[ziravan]

I will go buy a copy today.

I’ve worked in Critical Care for 20 years. Sadly, I’ve seen this all too often. As a supervisor, I’ve been the person who had to make “the call” far more times than I ever wanted, which is never.

Making “the call” means that for the person on the receiving end of the call, I am the dividing line between life before and life after. I had a lady tell me once that every second of my voice, every word of that call, was etched in her brain forever, replaying in an endless loop.

[ziravan]

I Cry

I cry
And the sky shows its blue sympathy
Or clouds the stars from her eyes
To cry with me

I shudder
And the world remains firm
A hope against my soul-ripped heart
My strength when I have none

I cannot
The day has no meaning
But the sun still rises
Even as darkness falls around me

I rage
And the world responds with beauty
Unfair to whisper grace
When grace I cannot feel

I scream
And the heavens absorb my cry
And yet still responds with stars
Even though my star is gone

I fall
And cannot think discreetly
The earth spins undetected
And so do I

I cringe
At casual conversation
How can time move on
No, I am not OK

I plead
For hope I cannot feel
Grace I do not know
They are strangers to me

I know
That life is unsecure
And breath is as impermanent
As souls are forever

I live
In uncontented days
Along uncommitted paths
In a world that no longer makes sense

I sigh
And the world doesn’t sigh with me
And time moves ahead
And leaves me behind

I yearn
For portals between worlds
For reaffirmation
For a drop of yesterday

I want
The links to grow unended
My path to not be parted
My heart to not be still

I am
A link without the linkage
A bond without the bonding
A soul without its quilting

I go
Forward day by day
Holding invisible hands
That pray with me for continuity

I hope
That hope someday will find me
And show me paths to meet me
With hands that hold mine still

I grow
Not apart but abreadth
Not alone but amidst
Interconnected by faith

I see
That time is so uncertain
That here is not not there
And forever is true regardless

Copyright 2002 Timothy Delasandro

[cdga5for4]

Thanks for the positive feedback to the post. I was really hesitant but this book is just stunning. If you are skeptical, I encourage you to read the Amazon reviews as well. I think the thing that made it so powerful for me is the author really takes a “both-and” approach to grief. She isn’t someone who just says everything is okay. She has unspeakable grief, yet brilliantly tells of celebrating a good, yet now different, life. She is a phenomenal writer and I am a big reader.

Here is the Publishers Weekly review: “On May 31, 2008, Vaudrey’s 19-year-old daughter Katie was in a fatal car accident. She was home on summer break from Azusa Pacific, where she was studying art, and that particular day she was running late for her waitressing job. Vaudrey and her husband, a pastor at Chicago-area megachurch Willow Creek, rushed to the hospital to find Katie in a coma with a broken neck and severe intracerebral hemorrhaging. Was her accident the result of sloppy teenage driving, or—as Vaudrey saw in a vision—had Katie already been unconscious at the time of the crash from a burst aneurysm? With Katie brain-dead, their large, close-knit family had just 24 hours to say goodbye. This moving debut memoir, richly illustrated with Katie’s own artwork, interweaves medical detail, flashbacks to Katie’s childhood, convincing reconstructions of dialogue, and a brave rendering of the two years following her death. The content is lovingly arranged under color headings and inspirational epigraphs. Grief was often nearly overwhelming, but the whole “horrid-beautiful” time drew Vaudrey closer to God. “Don’t put it off. Don’t avoid. Lean into the pain,” she kept reminding herself. Exquisitely balanced between sadness and joy, this sensitive account of a mother’s loss will leave ripples.”

[cdga5for4]

Thanks for sharing the poem. This is a poem that the author of Colors of Goodbye wrote, which she included in the book.

But One

A pile of heavy winter boots
Makes puddles by the kitchen door
And icy mittens, hats, and coats
Reflect the snowy day’s explore.
The day was rich and fast and fun
And all the beds are filled, but one.

Now suppertime has come and gone,
The table full, each belly fed.
The conversation lingered on
Till weary, we climbed into bed.
The sun has set, the day is done,
And all the heads are kissed, but one.

We lie alone, with grateful hearts
And memories that will not fade.
But slow and long, these years apart—
Oh, how I wish our girl had stayed.
Another Christmas come and gone,
And memories made with all but one.

But just beyond these lovely days,
Alongside streets of bronze and gold
Our daughter dances, laughs, and plays,
And paints in brushstrokes bright and bold,
Here, all the dreads of earth are gone
And Son shines brighter than the sun,
And death has lost its sting at last.
And beds are filled, and life begun.

—S.L.V., December 2013

This is a link to the poem if you wish to share: http://septembervaudrey.com/blog/2013/1/7/but-one

[Sans-Culotte]

It has been almost a year since my wife and I lost my stepdaughter (her daughter) to cancer. I may pick up this book. However, I worry that it might exacerbate wounds that we have worked hard to heal (or have learned to ignore).

[cdga5for4]

I can’t imagine the job you have to do and I certainly would never underestimate the importance of the words that you choose to make that call. Heartbreaking.

[cdga5for4]

Sans-Culotte, I have spoken to a number of people who have heard how good the book is yet they too are hesitant to read it for the reasons you mention. I completely understand. I was hesitant to wade in myself. With that in mind, here are a few quotes from a review that I think may allay your fears a bit. It has been one that has been echoed by a number of readers:

I absolutely HAD to read this book and I absolutely COULD not read it at the same time. But, oh, I’m so glad I did. September’s vulnerability, insight, and recollection of events brought each word straight to the heart. The book is so purposefully composed, the artwork is captivating and somehow, though it is the most tragic story I’ve ever lived through, I felt whispers of hope from beginning to end. Grief is ugly and unpredictable, but September’s present and brave navigation of her loss gives permission to feel the waves of grief in the exact way you need to.

[rockrr]

One thing that I’ve learned is that everyone processes grief differently - there is no canned mechanism that works across the board. People will, with the sincerest of intention, suggest something that worked for them or someone they know.

[CrazyIvan]

“I had a lady tell me once that every second of my voice, every word of that call, was etched in her brain forever, replaying in an endless loop.”

In my case I only remember two State Troopers asking me if I was my boys father. I have no idea how they told me. I asked them if anyone else was involved. No. (one of my best friends had taken out an entire family in a wreck) Having to wake his mother and tell her is something I will never forget.

[AppyPappy]

I’ve known two people who accidentally killed their child. That’s a dark place no one can visit.

[Albion Wilde]

Ping, FRiend.

[Albion Wilde]

I worry that it might exacerbate wounds that we have worked hard to heal (or have learned to ignore).

In all probability, the latter. For what kind of parent could ever get over this thing? You can only just learn to live with it. Finding out that you are not alone in the experience is usually, once you have confronted the pain again, its own kind of relief from being shared.