My name is Greg, and I miss my daughter Charlotte. Charlotte was born still on May 13, 2003 into the arms of two adoring and devastated parents. A beautiful baby girl. We spent just a few short hours with her. We have some pictures, some keepsakes, and our memories, but we don’t have our little girl.
Following Charlotte’s birth, it’s hard to know how, when, where or why we were able to allow our grief to co-exist with daily life. It just happened. We attended a local bereavement group and found comfort in hearing other parents’ stories. Eventually when my wife, Carol, founded Empty Arms, we were able to channel the power of grief (and grief is very powerful) into helping others. Although I no longer facilitate support group meetings on a regular basis, when I do I am still moved to tears when I hear parents talk about their babies. Especially when fathers speak. It must be something about hearing dads openly express themselves that seems to me so rare and precious. It is truly a blessing that Empty Arms provides the space and structure for everyone to share his/her/their story. Where else in the world can you let yourself be so vulnerable, express such raw emotions, and have people really understand your story?
I have worn some different hats for Empty Arms. I have provided personalized support for fathers. I serve as Trivia Master for our annual trivia night (so if a question is too hard, you know who to call!). I think as with many men, my grief has demanded that I do things in addition to talking. It has been incredibly helpful for me to channel my grief into projects and action, and I hope to help others learn how to do the same.
I am also a high school French teacher. I enjoy playing hockey, skiing, hiking, camping, playing music, singing, traveling, and spending time with my four amazing living children and my incredible wife.