Wilkirson-Hatch-Bailey Funeral Homes- Funerals, Cremations, Caskets, Cemetery Vaults, Urns in Waco, Texas.

Hand in Hand Program

Wilkirson-Hatch-Bailey offers the Hand in Hand grief counseling service for all residents in Central Texas. The service is free of charge to anyone who may be experiencing any kind of grief.

The director of Hand in Hand is Dr. Paul Stripling. Dr. Stripling, who was the executive director of the Waco Baptist Association for more than 21 years, has served in the ministry and as a counselor since 1959. He is well known and respected by other support groups and professionals in Central Texas. He has a keen ability to listen and assist those in need, and his services cover a wide range. Recently, he helped a retiree adjust to spending more time at home. Retirement is on the top-ten list of what makes a person grieve. He also communicates via email with college students who are dealing with the stresses of school and being away from home.

Hand in Hand has helped people deal with divorce, dislocation and other types of pain. Dr. Stripling once counseled a businessman who had lost his dog of many years and was able to respond to the question, ”Is there a place in heaven for dogs?”

The Hand in Hand Program sponsors ongoing events and seminars to educate Central Texas clergy, caregivers and residents about grief and other related issues. It also offers a grief support group, led by Dr. Stripling, which meets at Wilkirson-Hatch-Bailey on the first Tuesday of each month at 4:00 p.m. It is an open meeting and free of charge.

For more information on Wilkirson-Hatch-Bailey's Hand in Hand Program, contact Dr. Paul Stripling at (254) 753-3691, or toll free (888) 822-3691.

Statement of Purpose:
The unique Wilkirson-Hatch-Bailey Hand in Hand program is to thoughtfully offer loving care to those experiencing grief due to pending death of one's self or that of a loved one, whether in the future, now, or in the past, by offering education, emotional support and referral to individuals and groups to the point that those who call upon our family are cared for thoroughly. Our goal is that they may be at peace amidst death and that they grow strong and thrive, having learned the art of grief management.

Mission Statement:
To spread the art of grief management.

WHO AM I NOW?

Why am I a thousand-piece puzzle when everyone else is already put together? Why is the rest of the world a size 10? Why do their kites fly so high? Why does the grass grow greener next door? BECAUSE…I am a thousand piece puzzle.

Who am I, now that my loved one has died? Who am I now that I have survived the holiday season and find myself deep into the gloom of winter? Why do I feel so scattered? Why am I a thousand-piece puzzle when everyone else is so put together?

Why does January seem so empty? Why do the seasons reflect my moods and why do I take on the cast of the weather outside? Just as the world is stiff and frozen outside my window, I feel dead and cold and scattered inside myself. WHO AM I NOW?

I managed to make it through the holiday season, though the hows of that feat are truly beyond my recollection. I can't even remember eating the holiday meals. (I do, however, remember doing the dishes-again and again and again…Next year we are eating out or on paper plates!)

In those glittering days, I managed to smile and even to find a few moments of peace and joy; but here in the gloom of January, all I seem to see are the scattered pieces of my life…cast before me on the card table, waiting for me to pick them up and make the picture.

I used to think I knew. I used to know who I was and where I was going and how I was going to get there. But now, in the chill of January, I can't even remember where the puzzle begins and I end. I think I'm still grieving, and that surprises me! It's been …too long (regardless of the time frame you insert), and I should be getting better. Why do I still ache from a sunburn I got years ago when we were together on the beach? Why is there still sand in my shoes and why does your name still stick in my throat? Who am I, now that the memories grow cold in January's chill?

Am I still a mother if there is no child to tuck in at night? Am I still a dad if there is no one to loan the car keys to? Am I still a wife if there is no one to snuggle up to in my bed? Am I still a husband if there is no one waiting at home for me at the end of the day? Am I still a sister or a brother if there is no one to tease? Am I still a child if my parent has died? Am I still a human being, capable of loving and being loved, if the one person I loved more than anything has become frozen in time? Who am I, now that my loved one has died?

The gloom has penetrated even my toes, and my whole body seems like ice. Why can't January be warm and gentle-especially after the struggle of the holidays? I need some sunshine, some warmth, some help in turning over the puzzle pieces and putting them back together. I need some spring. But spring is way off and I must (somehow) get through these days. If you're feeling like I am, perhaps these few suggestion swill help you find the pieces to your new puzzle.

Identify specific feelings. Do not generalize. Try to figure out exactly what is bothering you. Look for the tiny grains of sand that are still hiding in the bottom of your shoes. Acknowledge them. Be honest with those feeling, whatever they are. If you're angry, be angry. If you're sad, be sad. Be specific in your sadness.
Pick your worries. Focus on only one worry at a time. Give up being worried about being worried. Prioritize your worries. This helps combat feelings of being overwhelmed and you can decide which worries to keep and which to send to your: 1) mother; 2) children; 3) family; 4) neighbor; 5) enemy.
Keep a picture or two of the sand castle where you can enjoy it every day. You may decide not to make a shrine out of your memories, but don't lose the joy that you had in making that marvelous moat! Keep the sand you found in the shoe-you just don't have to keep it there! That's what memories are for…a place to stash the important stuff that we NEED.
Become as informed and as knowledgeable as possible about this new world in which you live. We fear what we don't know, what we can't see, what we can't touch. Read, listen, learn all you can about grief. It's not where you planned on being this winter, but it is where you are. Look around.
Listen to everyone. You will receive enough advice about how to do it (grief) to sink a fleet of battleships. Be grateful… at least someone is talking with you! But, FOLLOW YOUR OWN MUSIC.
Be kind to yourself. You survived the holiday season, and now it is the beginning of another season, another way of living. Learn to forgive yourself for living.
Set small goals first. Accomplish them. Then, set bigger goals. Try starting with getting the garbage out on the RIGHT day. Then, open the closet… the drawers…the heart. Try going out. The next time you might be able to get farther than the driveway. TAKE YOUR TIME. It's a long way to the beach. You'll get there again…someday.
Remember that life requires effort on your part. Make friends with the vacuum, the checkbook, and the car. Become determined to learn to remove the box before microwaving the dinner.
Don't wait for happiness to find you again. Make it happen. Build another sand castle, maybe on a different beach this time. Don't lose the memories just because they hurt. Look at the picture, listen to THE song, remember the love… you haven't lost that. How could you possibly lose the love you shared?
Keep turning the puzzle pieces over. But don't keep trying to put them back into the same picture. That picture is gone. There is a new picture to be made of those scattered pieces. Search for that scene. Search for the new you… search for the new person you are becoming.
Don't forget how to dream, how to laugh, how to dance. The music is different but so is the season. The room may be empty, but the heart is not. The spirit may be filled with sand, but the shoes remember the steps. One day at a time is OK if you can manage it, but know that some days all you can manage is one minute at a time. But minutes add up to years, eventually, and each grain of sand adds to the strength of the castle. Build the sand castle again…if only in your memory. Just because it's January doesn't mean the beach is closed forever. Build your new castle in the middle of winter. Find the new occupant…the new YOU.
Be gentle this winter season. Turn the pieces over slowly, experiencing each piece as a newly found treasure. We can fill our days with bitterness and anger that the picture will never be the same. Or, we can hope for the spring that will surely come if we let it.

I know there are good things on the horizon. Winter can't last forever. If those things turn out to be less than we hoped, we will simply have to make whatever we get into something liveable. Perhaps that is the secret to melting the winter into spring. The challenge is to always carve out something beautiful from this icicle. There is joy in living…if we allow time in the winter to reassemble the thousand piece puzzle.

Written by Darcie D. Sims
Bereavement Magazine, January 1991
Copied with permission by:
Bereavement Publishing
350 Cradle Drive, Carmel, IN 46032