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.
I find it very sad when people walk away from God because He didn’t give them the answer they wanted to a prayer. God is not a vending machine where we put in the prayer, push a button, and the solution we want drops out for us.
have a choice to say yes or no. When we ask God for something, He has the choice to say yes or no. Did I want Him to say yes and allow Becca to stay here on this earth? Of course I did, with every fiber of my being! As a matter of fact, I believed He was actually going to heal her heart, either through a miracle or through a heart transplant. I was totally blindsided when she died—even though she was very sick.
good. However, decisions made based on emotions are quite often wrong. I encourage you to make the difficult choice to trust Him, not based on whether or not you get what you want, but based on the fact that if you cannot see His goodness in your situation yet, it means He isn’t done working on your behalf.
question becomes: Are you going to make it based on anger, resentment or frustration? Or are you going to move beyond that, believing He knows how to make right decisions for everyone involved, and that He was not willing to compromise in the moment, but held fast because He sees what we cannot see, and knows what we do not know?
been encouraged and inspired by several quotes I’ve read in books or heard in sermons throughout the years.
always be with us. Even if I’m not emotionally feeling the pain at the moment, it is still there. It’s almost like a physical chronic pain. There are times you are so used to having the pain that you don’t even realize you’re feeling it.
under the swirling waters, call out “Lord, save me!” just like Peter did in Matthew 14. Whenever I did that, somehow Jesus always reached through the storm and pulled me up out of the drowning sea of emotions, into His secure arms, where I would feel like He was holding me. He knew how weak and helpless I was, and He never tired of meeting me in my place of need.
I have now learned that peace and pain can both reside in us at the same time. Whether I am consciously feeling the pain or not, an underlying peace seems to travel side-by-side with my pain. It is definitely the peace of God that goes beyond any understanding, and I am so thankful that He offers it to us and gives it freely.
darkness. And don’t feel guilty about taking as much time as you need to be intimate with the One who loves you like crazy and wants to get you out of the suffocating pit and onto the path of living again. Spend intimate time with Him. Lots of it.
God or away from Him. But when we move away from Him, we are moving away from the One who can help us the most. God wants to walk with us through this valley of death. He wants to give us comfort. He wants to give us strength. He wants to give us hope. These are all things we desperately need. But if we choose to move away from Him, we will continue to desperately need these things. This is a time to get as close to God as you possibly can.
This option has brought me to a place of peace, rest, hope, and life again—even within the pain.
at some point. And as painful as it is, some of us will have children who leave this earth ahead of us. The question is, how are we going to choose to live the rest of our lives when they are gone and there is nothing we can do to bring them back? Am I going to live in a way that reminds everyone my child died, or that my child lived?
