A Bereaved Parents WISH LIST
I wish my child hadn’t died. I wish I had him back.

I wish you wouldn’t be afraid to speak my child’s name. My child lived and was very important to me. I need to hear that he was important to you also.

If I cry and get emotional when you talk about my child, I wish you knew that it isn’t because you have hurt me. My child’s death is the cause of my tears. You have talked about my child and you have allowed me to share my grief. I thank you for both.

Being a bereaved parent is not contagious, so I wish you wouldn’t shy away from me. I need you more now then ever before. I need diversions, so I do want to hear about you; but I also want you to hear about me. I might be sad and I might cry, but I wish you would let me talk about my child, my favorite topic of the day.

I know that you think of and pray for me often. I also know that my child’s death pains you too. I wish you would let me know those things through a phone call, a card or note, or a really big hug.

I wish you wouldn’t expect my grief to be over in 6 months. These first months are traumatic for me, but I wish you could understand that my grief will never be over. I will suffer the death of my child until the day I die.


I am working very hard on my recovery, but I wish you would understand that I will never fully recover. I will always miss my child, and I will always grieve that he is dead.



I wish you wouldn’t expect me "not to think about it" or to "be happy". Neither will happen for a very long time; so don’t frustrate yourself or me.

I don’t want to have a "pity party"; but I do wish you would let me grieve. I must hurt before I can begin to try and heal.

I wish you understood how my life has been shattered. I know it is miserable for you to be around me when I’m feeling miserable. Please be as patient with me as I am with you When I say "I’m doing okay" – I wish you could understand that I don’t "feel" okay – and that I struggle daily.

Please excuse me if I seem rude – it is certainly not my intent. Sometimes the world around me goes too fast and I need to get off. When I walk away, I wish you would let me find a quiet place to spend time alone.

I wish you understood that grief changes people. When my child died, a big part of me died with him. I am not the same person I was before my child died, and I will never be that person again.