Loss links members of newly formed group

Compassionate Friends chapter to support parents of deceased children

Three years ago, cancer killed Jefri Leonardi’s 12-year-old daughter. Deep vein thrombosis a year ago took Loma Gregg’s daughter from her.

“We’re all members of the club you’d never want to belong to,” Leonardi said.

But for these Lawrence women and others like them, companionship is a lifeline that helps them cope with their grief.

Leonardi, Gregg, Kim Kirk and Cynde Mann are forming a local chapter of The Compassionate Friends, a national nonprofit, self-help group for families mourning the death of a child.

The organization has chapters in Topeka and Kansas City, but the women said they thought Lawrence should have its own. They have mailed out nearly 70 letters to people living in or around Lawrence who attend the Topeka meetings.

The chapter’s first meeting will be at 7 p.m. Monday at First United Methodist Church, 946 Vt.

“I feel like if you’re not reaching out to the next person that’s going through the same thing, you’re not doing anything with your grief,” Kirk said. “You just really need to be there for that next person to support them.”

Support in tough times

The four women have supported each other through tough times.

Leonardi lost her 12-year-old daughter, Heather, to non-Hodgkins lymphoma. Leonardi worked on the same floor of Lawrence Memorial Hospital with Kirk when Kirk’s 14-year-old son, Tyler, committed suicide 16 months ago.

“Jefri was one of the first people at my side,” Kirk said.

Kirk and Leonardi continued to help and support each other after Kirk left her job at LMH and went to work at Lawrence Ob-Gyn. At her new job, Kirk met Gregg. Gregg lost her 43-year-old daughter, Brenda, last May to deep vein thrombosis, a condition where a blood clot forms in a deep vein.

“When I started talking to Kim at work and I found out she had lost a son, it was like she knew where I was coming from,” Gregg said. “You can say, ‘I understand,’ but until you lay your child to rest you don’t really understand.”

Gregg was having quite a bit of trouble coming to grips with Brenda’s death when a family member suggested she might want to attend a Compassionate Friends meeting. Gregg and Kirk attended a meeting in Topeka, but wished there was something closer.

“I’m divorced,” Gregg said. “I didn’t want to drive to Topeka or Kansas City to go to a meeting by myself.”

Gregg and Kirk started brainstorming and decided to form their own chapter. They got together with Leonardi and started sending letters, posting fliers and going to funeral homes to drop off literature.

At Warren-McElwain Mortuary, they met Mann, a funeral director. As the women started talking, they learned that Mann lost her daughter, Ashley Chick, four and a half years ago. Mann was living in Oklahoma City when her daughter died of kidney failure 30 days before her 13th birthday.

Mann was familiar with the organization.

“Compassionate Friends has a phrase. It goes: ‘You lose your parents, you lose your past. You lose your spouse, you lose your present. You lose your child, you lose your future,'” Mann said.

“There’s not one day that goes by that something doesn’t happen that I don’t say, ‘Hmm, I sure wish Ashley was here. Or, I wonder if Ashley would like those flowers? Oh, I bet she’d like that butterfly.’ Somewhere in the day she creeps in there.”

Not to be judged

The Compassionate Friends organization has no religious affiliation and does not charge membership fees. The women plan on scheduling monthly meetings, but the companionship can come at any time.

“At some point Jefri could call someone and say she’s having a crisis,” Mann said. “Two people make a meeting.”

The meetings are open to all family members, not just parents.

At a typical meeting, attendees will usually explain who the child was that died and what the circumstances of the death were.

“Most people choose to share because sharing is part of healing, but it’s not required,” Mann said. “It’s just a time for you to cry and to share and know that nobody is going to judge you.”

And there is no expectation to just “get over it.”

“When people say things like, ‘it’s time for you to be over it’ or ‘you need to get over it,’ those are really misnomers,” Leonardi said. “You don’t get over this. You get over not getting a job you wanted, but you don’t get over losing a child. It’s something you kind of incorporate into yourself and you take it everywhere you go.”