I was not aware until the passing of Barbara Bush that she and President George H. W. Bush had a daughter who died from leukemia at three years old, on October 11, 1953. That means First Lady, Barbara Bush, was one of us.
This was back when little was known about cancer. They were told to take their daughter, Pauline Robinson “Robin,” home to die and make her happy in those two-three weeks she had left to live. They didn’t. They fought, by taking her to a relative in New York who was a doctor at a leading cancer center when cancer was barely understood, where she lived for another seven months. They fought for her life when no hope was given.
We get it…
It was shortly after Robin’s death that Barbara’s hair started turning white, which she attributes to her daughter’s illness and death. She was only 28 when her daughter died. Barbara Bush was known for that white hair, but it came at a high price. We change when our child dies, not just emotionally, but it takes a toll on us physically.
We get it…
The death of our child leaves a gaping hole that cannot ever be filled. It is bound to affect one’s marriage. Fortunately, in Barbara’s case, their marriage became stronger as they leaned on each other instead of tearing each other apart in their pain. Whether it strengthens the marriage, or tears it apart, the death of our child can’t help but affect the love-of-our-life relationship that we do day-to-day life with.
We get it…
Barbara’s son, George Jr., (President George W. Bush) was instrumental in “saving her life” after Robin’s death. At seven years old, he wouldn’t go out and play with his friends, insisting his mom was lonely and needed him. Most of us who are blessed to have other children have the same testimony – our other children are what kept us barely going.
We get it…
It affected Barbara’s relationship with God. The death of her daughter ended up pulling her and George closer to Him, trusting in His Sovereignty, knowing this life is not the end and they would see Robin again. (President Bush was known to say he expects his daughter Robin to be the first face he sees in heaven.) Some of us are angry with God, some of us feel betrayed. Some of us immediately draw our strength from Him, and some of us do so only after our anger gets us nowhere and we turn to Him in desperation. The death of our child can’t help but affect our relationship with God.
We get it…
Robin’s body was donated to cancer research before being buried. All of us want to know that the life of our child mattered and somehow affects other lives for the better. Some of us are able to connect in some way to a cause, based on how our child died. Others put scholarship funds in place, write books or start organizations. We give gifts or have something permanently placed in a public venue in our child’s name. We are determined that our child’s life and legacy will somehow live on.
We get it…
In a fairly recent interview, memories of Robin brought joy to Barbara, thinking about Robin’s chubby little arms around her neck. But in another interview, 64 years to the month after Robin’s death, there were fresh tears. After the first few years of suffocating darkness and painful grief (Barbara said she felt like her heart was breaking and she could cry forever), we can turn a corner and start to smile at the memories and the joy our child brought into our lives. But we will never be beyond shedding fresh tears for the deep pain of missing our child.
We get it…
Barbara will be buried next to her daughter, whose body was moved in 2000 to the burial plot on the George Bush Presidential Library Grounds. I have two plots picked out for Dave and myself as close to our daughter, Becca, as I can get. We want to be close to our children, in life or death, even if we know it is just their bodies, whether buried or ashes.
We get it…
Very few of us will be like Debbie Reynolds and join our child in death even before their memorial service. (And obviously, if you are reading this, you are not one of those very few.)
We have no idea how long we have until we are taken from this earth and join our child. But each day we are here brings us one day closer. And each day here is an opportunity to live in a way that honors the life of our precious child.
I don’t believe the saying, “Time heals all wounds.” First, our wounds will never be fully healed this side of heaven, and second, I believe it is what we do with our time that brings the needed healing to not just survive, but to thrive, like Barbara Bush did for 65 years without her precious daughter.
That should give each one of us hope that we can, too. Somehow, it can be done.
One year after Becca’s death, I was with a friend I only get to see once or twice a year at the most. She took me out for coffee and just let me share my heart and cry about Becca. One thing I shared with her is how horrible I felt that I was looking forward to going to heaven to see my daughter more than to see Jesus. Her response? “But, Laura, you’ve made a deposit!”
Each one of us has made a deposit. And no matter what your political views, I think we can all rejoice with Barbara Bush, that after waiting for 65 years, she finally had the day we all look forward to as bereaved parents. She is now fully reunited with her child.
When our child dies, it takes a toll on us physically as well as emotionally. We would be happy to send you a list of thirty things you can do to help take gentle care of yourself, no matter where you are on this unwanted journey.
You and your email address are safe with us and will not be given out to anyone.
GPS Hope exists to walk with grieving parents through the suffocating darkness of child-loss to a place of hope, light and purpose.
We also support families, friends and coworkers who want to know how to support these parents both short and long-term.
If you are a bereaved parent, we encourage you to connect with us at GPS Hope on Facebook.
If you are not a bereaved parent but want to support those who are, or want to follow us as we give hope to these precious parents, please connect with us at Friends of GPS Hope on Facebook.
Subscribe to Laura’s YouTube channel.
Expressions of Hope is written by author and speaker Laura Diehl. Laura is a national keynote speaker and also a workshop speaker for both The Compassionate Friends and Bereaved Parents USA national conferences. Laura has also been a guest on Open to Hope several times, and has hosted her own conferences, a virtual conference and many webinars. If you would like more information about Laura as a speaker for your next event, click here.