St. Petersburg Times
Special report
Video report
  • For their own good
    Fifty years ago, they were screwed-up kids sent to the Florida School for Boys to be straightened out. But now they are screwed-up men, scarred by the whippings they endured. Read the story and see a video and portrait gallery.
  • More video reports
Multimedia report
Print Email this storyEmail story Comment Email editor
Fill out this form to email this article to a friend
Your name Your email
Friend's name Friend's email
Your message
 

Coaxing smiles out of a sea of sadness

By ERIN SULLIVAN
Published April 11, 2007


ADVERTISEMENT

ODESSA - Kayley Kahmer hugged the large, cloth puppet a clown let her borrow. She played by herself while the other kids climbed trees and rode ponies at Starkey Ranch. Most times, she feels like other kids don't understand. She said they can be mean to her. But at least these kids who were at camp with her Friday know how she feels because they've dealt with death, too.

Sometimes she's as sad now as when her dad died three years ago. She was only 5 then. She's 8 now.

"His hair was brown. He wore glasses, like me, but I'm not wearing mine today. I don't know what color eyes he had," Kayley said about her dad, who died in 2003. She was at the ranch as part of Mending Hearts Children's Day Camp of Gulfside Regional Hospice. All the other kids here had lost a loved one, too. Some of them, like Kayley, also go with their parents to a weekly bereavement group.

"He always played with me," she said of her dad. "When we went to the mall and my legs were tired, he'd put me on his shoulders. He started yelling a lot, so that's why he probably had a heart attack."

The words tumbled. She looked at the ground and stroked the doll.

"I lost a pet, too. My cat Speedy. It happened when I was sleeping. The next morning, I saw him lying on the ground by a chair, my favorite old wooden chair. My mom said he was just sleeping. But he wasn't. They put him in a garbage bag and buried him."

She wrinkled her nose when she said "garbage bag." She didn't want Speedy in one. She wanted him in a nice box or something.

When she feels sad, she hugs the fish her dad got for her at Sea World. She feels alone a lot, when the other kids at school talk about their dads. She cries sometimes, especially when she goes to the cemetery.

This is the first year for the camp. It wasn't a traditional grief camp - as far as going through bereavement rituals. Friday was all about fun - seeing cows and vultures and alligators, riding ponies, petting goats, getting stuffed on hot dogs, hamburgers and cake - so the kids know it's okay to feel joy in the midst of sorrow. Counselors were on hand if the kids wanted to talk. Gulfside is considering expanding the camp from one day to a full weekend.

* * *

In the afternoon, Pieter Boss-Kulwicki was off by himself with a rope, lassoing a metal bull. He's 10, a fourth-grader at San Antonio Elementary School. Pieter has porcelain skin with freckles and dark lashes. After a few tries with the rope, he didn't miss much. Then he walked over to a bench by the fire pit.

"My grandpa died of cancer last month," he blurted.

Pieter said his grandparents began raising him soon after he was born.

He said his dad has remarried and is in his life more now. His stepmother is about to have a baby, whom they'll name Zachary Taylor Boss.

"Sounds like a president's name, huh?" Pieter said.

His sister lives with his dad, but Pieter has always lived with his grandparents, since they adopted him. He said his grandmother is doing "pretty bad" about his grandfather's death.

"She's all stressed," he said. He said he tries to do things to cheer her up.

"We talk," he said. "Or we'll go out and drive."

His mother isn't in his life.

"Last time I heard she was in Mexico," he said.

A counselor walked over to the fire pit and told Pieter he needed to get his photo taken on one of the ponies. She smiled wide. She was thin and pretty, with long, thick hair pulled into a ponytail. "Everyone else has," she encouraged. "Come on, Pieter." She held out her hand.

"Come on."

Pieter got up.

"Okay," he said and gave a little smile. He said he doesn't know how he's coping with everything - with so much a little boy shouldn't have to deal with.

"I'm just trying to move on with life," he said.

Moments is an occasional series focusing on moments in life: the pivotal, the seemingly mundane; everyday snapshots and life-changing crises. The things we remember. The things that comfort us. The things we want to forget. If you have a moment you would like to share, please contact Erin Sullivan at esullivan@sptimes.com 813 909-4609 or toll free 1-800-333-7505, ext. 4609.

Fast Facts:

For information

To learn more about Gulfside Regional Hospice and its bereavement programs, call (727) 844-3946 or toll-free 1-800- 561-4883. Or visit www.gulfsideregional hospice.org.

[Last modified April 10, 2007, 22:37:28]


Share your thoughts on this story

Comments on this article
by Karen 04/11/07 12:22 PM
What a brave little boy
Subscribe to the Times
Click here for daily delivery
of the St. Petersburg Times.

Email Newsletters

ADVERTISEMENT