Bryan Burgess (center) was killed in action during his final 2011 deployment to Afghanistan just 16 days before he was scheduled to return home — a few weeks shy of his 30th birthday. His parents Terry and Beth created Gold Star Parents retreat and network in his honor.

Grieving Bryan, their son who gave all, Texas parents Terry and Beth Burgess found hope by creating supports for fellow Gold Star families

When Bryan Burgess was seven years old, he and his father Terry visited a friend’s house, where the family was having an Easter egg hunt. Asked to join the fun, Bryan won handily, earning the day’s prize — a great big, cellophane-wrapped Easter basket full of foil-wrapped chocolates, toys, and other sweet treasures.

“Some of the other moms were clearly upset because we weren’t family, you know, we were just visiting,” says Terry. “But before anybody could say anything, Bryan unwrapped the basket and stepped back from it. He said ‘dig in!’ and he let all those other kids and the moms take all the candy they wanted before he took a single piece.”

It’s one of Terry favorite stories to tell about his son, because he says, “it’s when I knew that he had a very special spirit.”

Bryan’s manner of caring for others continued, according to his stepmother Beth. “He was always very protective and security conscious,” she says. He wanted to be a policeman and would remind his dad to fasten his seatbelt in the car.

At 22, Bryan enlisted in the Army, determined to become infantry in the wake of 9/11. “As soon as he signed up, we knew that he would almost immediately go to war. And sure enough, he did,” said Terry. Bryan’s commitment had already been made when they were told. “All we could do was support him in his decision.”

Bryan loved his new military career. He served two tours in Iraq, met and married his wife Tiffany, and they had two children, Makya and Zander. He was killed in action during his final 2011 deployment to Afghanistan just 16 days before he was scheduled to return home — a few weeks shy of his 30th birthday.

The wait for answers

Upon learning the devastating news about Bryan’s death, the Burgess family was given little information about what happened. “It was frustrating,” says Terry. He and Beth, along with all of Bryan’s other close family members, traveled to Dover Air Force Base, where the bodies of the fallen are brought back to U.S. soil for the solemn tradition of the “dignified transfer.” There, they met five other families, each of whom had lost a solider in the same mission where Bryan was killed, all of whom knew very little about the circumstances.

“We were all thrown together at the worst possible time and each of us was trying to piece things together,” Beth said. But the process created connections that they could lean on for years. “We had an almost immediate support system.”

Bryan’s wife decided to postpone his funeral until the rest of his unit returned from Afghanistan, widening the circle of people Beth and Terry could connect with over their loss. As they began to piece together the story, they learned that answers would be so slow to come, in part, because Bryan had been killed on day one of a nine-day classified mission.

They bonded with three of the families from Bryan’s unit — others who would receive the deeply painful honor of receiving the Gold Star pin that signifies losing a loved one in service. They remain in contact to this day. Bryan’s spirit loomed so large that four men from his unit have named a son after him.

The Gold Star parent “grief calendar”

According to Beth and Terry, the number of dates that cause spiraling grief is exponential: Bryan’s birthday, the date he was killed in action, the dignified transfer, the date he was supposed to return home alive, and the last day they spent together when he was home on leave. Bryan’s final deployment began on Mother’s Day of 2010, permanently changing the meaning of that holiday. “It’s an ongoing grief calendar, all year long,” says Terry.

“We have many ways to honor and remember Bryan on Memorial Day, the Fourth of July, and Veteran’s Day, but they tend to be painful holidays,” Beth said. “It’s hard, because everyone’s very patriotic, and you know what that really costs.”

When someone says “Happy Memorial Day,” it hurts, Terry said. “For us, it’s not a three-day holiday. It’s not barbecues and mattress sales.”

The Gold Star parent network

Beth and Terry discovered new purpose in supporting a network of Gold Star parents. But they found that the label is often restricted to combat-related deaths. They wanted to change that, and give every parent who had a child die while in service to the country a way to connect and help each other.

In 2017, they established a non-profit called Gold Star Parents Retreat, It is an annual, free retreat held in Gainesville, Texas for parents who have lost a child serving in any branch of the military, under any circumstance, including training or car accidents, complications from vaccinations before being deployed, and suicide.

“We bring them together to just connect with each other, talk to each other. We may now know what they went through,” Beth said. “We don’t try to fix,” Terry adds.

“We want to give them just a tiny bit of hope,” says Beth. “You’ll never get over it, but you’ll learn how to carry it. I guess you get better at carrying it. You’re not alone — there are lots of us out here who will help you carry it.”

Read the second post in this series: “He Wants Me to Salute Him Back” — how a documentary film featuring the firefight with the Taliban that took Bryan’s life led his father Terry to strengthen support for grieving Gold Star fathers.

Kelly Farley and Barry Kluger are the dads behind the Parental Bereavement Act.

Evermore is dedicating this Father’s Day week to bereaved dads who will always be fathers.

Kelly Farley and Barry Kluger met because of a horrible coincidence: They knew what it was like to mourn a child.

For Kluger, it was his 18-year-old daughter Erica, who died in a car crash in 2001. For Farley, it was two children — his daughter Katie, who died by miscarriage in 2004, and his son Noah, who was stillborn in 2006.

The two met several years later after Farley launched a blog that covered his own experience grieving the death of his children, and Kluger invited him on his talk radio show.

As they chatted about what they both had been through, the two fathers started talking about finding an issue they could work on together. That discussion eventually turned to better bereavement leave for parents mourning the death of their child. Soon, they became the dads behind the Parental Bereavement Act.

“Your employer will give you three or five days of bereavement leave, if you’re lucky. That’s just not enough time. You bury your child, and you’re expected to get back to work the next day. We didn’t think it was realistic.”

Uphill battle

Despite the bipartisan support in both the House and Senate, the two know that they still have an uphill battle. As the country grapples with an opioid epidemic, mass shootings and other pressing issues, helping bereaved parents isn’t top of mind for many.

Kluger and Farley continue to build momentum and support, and say that a couple of weeks don’t go by without another senator or another representative signing on.

“Bereavement leave is something where people say, ‘That’s a pretty good idea,’ but … the passion is not there,” said Kluger, who wrote a book about his daughter and her death called “A Life Undone: A Father’s Journey Through Loss.”

Most Employers Grant Only Three Days Of Paid Leave After A Child Dies

There are times in which an entire life can change in a moment. It may come in the form of an anxiously anticipated milestone: graduation, marriage, or the birth of a child. But there are darker, unimaginable tragedies we often refuse to consider – tucking them into the deepest recesses of our minds because they are too painful, too life-altering. For Deana Martin that moment came on a busy Friday afternoon.

Going through routine updates during her weekly supervising meeting, Deana’s phone began to ring. It rang again, and again, and again, incessantly. Continuing to devote her attention to work, Deana reviewed department finances, all the while noticing an unknown number with her hometown Indiana area code. Given the relentless nature of the caller, Deana acquiesced and picked up the phone.

The news was devastating: she had lost not one, but both of her children. But the death of her children was just the tip of the iceberg. As for many parents, a glacier of change was underway.

In the days following her unimaginable loss, she fought through indescribable pain – all the while planning funerals; making accommodations to become the primary caregiver for her young granddaughter; informing the employers, family members, and friends of her deceased children; and attempting to comfort those around her. It was during this time she learned her employer had given her two weeks of bereavement leave – one for each child.

Today, child death is not a qualifying event for job protection through federal legislation known as the Family Medical Leave Act (FMLA). As a result, bereaved families have no choice but to negotiate leave with their individual employer – at a time when they are least emotionally and mentally capable of doing so. Oregon and Illinois are the only states in the nation to require employers to allow bereaved families to take two weeks of unpaid leave; Illinois provides additional leave – up to six weeks – for the loss of multiple children. According to one industry survey, 69 percent of employers grant three days of paid bereavement leave following a child death – not enough time to plan a funeral. As a nation, we can do better for our families, especially in a time of significant crisis.

Those two weeks passed in a haze for Deana: burial arrangements, negotiations with insurance companies, building a new life for the granddaughter who had been robbed of her mother and uprooted from the only surroundings she had ever known. With compassion and care, Deana persevered.

Deana returned to work, yet she did so in body only. Her mind, heart, and health would not recover. It took years for her to realize that her life was forever changed. Her grief was severe and enduring: chronic depression, anxiety disorder, insomnia, panic attacks, and a condition known as complicated or prolonged grief syndrome – all symptoms many families endure for decades, if not a lifetime. Ultimately, Deana was released from her job by an employer who was unable to support or assist in her recovery.

Deana still struggles to define herself and her purpose in the aftermath of her loss: “My children were and are my life. My identity as a mother and a career woman disappeared. I struggle with the question, Who am I now?“

As she rebuilds her life, she focuses on caring for her granddaughter and working to help other families who have suffered the death of a child. “I know I am where I am meant to be in life and that my experiences are more normal than not,” says Deana. “I know it will still take time to rebuild and sift through the rubble of my shattered life of twenty-five years. In time I will build a new foundation and new coping skills. There is one thing I know without a doubt, and that is that I have to give of myself to society, for I have a heart and compassion for other hurting parents like me.”