I’ve 
felt it but it never occurred to me that someone else would use the same exact 
words to describe it. How could someone else know what my grief feels like?
I 
heard the words spoken by Dr. William Petit as he faced the media this week 
after a jury issued its “death penalty” verdict in the case of convicted killer 
Steven Hayes. 
 
While 
many people are caught up in the debate over capital punishment in this case, I 
am fixated on Petit’s grief and the way in which he is finding the words to 
express this emotion publically. 
Grief 
is a powerful feeling. It can control you, potentially 
destroy you if you allow it to. It can eat you alive. Dr. William Petit is one 
of those people who knows this all too 
well.
  
Petit 
lost his wife, Jennifer Hawke-Petit, 48, and daughters Hayley, 17, and Michaela, 
11, in one gigantic series of escalating evil acts on July 23, 2007. The three 
were terrorized by Hayes and his accomplice, Joshua Komisarjevsky, for a period 
that lasted overnight and ended with the Petit home in 
The 
criminal trial and subsequent penalty phase concluded this week with a jury 
unanimously deciding that Hayes deserves to be executed for his role in the 
Petit killings. Komisarjevsky is due to stand trial 
next year. 
After 
the decision, Petit faced a mob of media outside the Superior Courthouse in 
“I 
don’t think there’s ever closure,” Petit said. “There’s a hole with jagged 
edges, and over time the edges may smooth out a little bit but the hole in your 
heart and the hole in your soul is still there, so there’s never 
closure.” 
So 
true. 
Grief is an unimaginable experience. Sometimes, it is tied to horrific events 
such as murder. In the Petit case, we have seen and heard about the horrors that 
robbed Dr. Petit of his wife and daughters for the rest of his 
life. 
So 
far, the criminal justice system has spoken, meting out “part one” of its dose 
of justice. It remains to be seen what “part two” will bring with the second 
trial. In the meantime, Petit and the extended members of his family are left to 
carry on. 
So 
how does one do that? How does one “carry on” in this life when a loved one is 
taken from us? Really, when life serves up “hell,” how do you go 
on?
Thanatologists 
- that is, experts on death, dying and grief - say that grief is an individual 
experience. By that, I mean, for each of us the death of a loved one will mean 
something different than what that particular person’s death will mean to 
someone else. That’s because our lives are unique, so each connection, each 
experience, each relationship, contributes to a unique personal narrative that 
is our individual life story.
What’s 
needed is “meaning reconstruction.” Life as we know it changes irrevocably when 
someone we love dies. Noted grief expert Dr. Robert Neimeyer says that death 
changes our individual life stories so that the life that we might have had, 
would have had, perhaps were supposed to have, can never 
be. 
That 
in itself is devastating. As if that isn’t enough, we are expected to pick up 
the pieces and go on, to figure out what our life means and who we are after 
this particular death has transformed us.
I 
found an interesting interview of Neimeyer in my dissertation research, and it 
was more validation of other research I have come across that speaks about this 
“relearning” that we undergo through our grief. 
Neimeyer 
said, “We have to relearn who we are and relearn what the world is because both 
are changed by the subtraction of this person from our life.” (
While 
that may sound too sterile or clinical a view, it is nonetheless the challenge 
that we each face when we are battling our way through personal 
grief.
For 
William Petit, grief has generated a positive initiative that epitomizes the 
idea of meaning making. I’m sure he found his inspiration from all three of his 
loved ones, but it appears he took particular direction from his younger 
daughter, Michaela. It was Michaela who reportedly had been inspired by the 
words of Mohandas Ghandi to “be the change you wish to see in the 
world.” 
Those 
words grace the web site of the Petit Family Foundation, established by Petit 
and others who recognized that the lives of Jennifer, Hayley, and Michaela 
should never be forgotten. Their lives meant something when they graced this 
earth, and they mean something as their spirits live 
on. 
For 
Dr. William Petit, the life he had before July 23, 2007 is a memory. His home, 
his family, and his daily focus of career and family life as he knew it are a 
part of his past. As he rebuilds his life, his wife and daughters will be a part 
of it in a way he never would have imagined. 
The 
hole in his heart is a permanent condition, but as he adjusts to a life he never 
would have asked for, Dr. Petit is giving meaning to the tragedy. In doing so, 
he honors Jennifer, Hayley and Michaela, and shares them with the 
world. 
What 
an amazing gift of grief. 
For 
more information on the Petit Family Foundation, visit http://www.petitfamilyfoundation.org/. 
http://mareheffernan.blogspot.com/2010/11/that-hole-in-your-heart.html