International support group for parents whose children have died meets in Va.

Parents never get over the death of a child. Mothers and fathers become experts in concealing their grief, smiling through the anger, pain and denial as they go through their daily routines.

And then there are times like Saturday, when the bereaved get the chance to talk, to open up and wonder collectively about how to live life without their loved ones.

Each person has a date, the one when his or her child died, seared into memory.

More than 1,300 parents who have lost their children gathered Saturday at the Hyatt Regency Crystal City for the 33rd national convention of "The Compassionate Friends." The international support group, started by a priest in England, has more than 600 affiliates across the United States.

There was a memory board covered with photos. Many parents wore matching T-shirts adorned with pictures of their child. They reminisced about their loss. Many said they often felt in limbo.

"You never get over it, but the hugs help," said Susan Johnson of Silver Spring, a retired legal secretary whose 24-year-old son, Michael, drowned at Rehoboth Beach, Del., on Aug. 23, 1998. "Michael was an Eagle Scout. He loved to sing. He was a volunteer in the White House correspondence unit for President Bill Clinton."

Johnson wore a button with Michael's picture. She is a member of the Montgomery County chapter of Compassionate Friends, which meets monthly.

"It has helped me get from total despair to feeling better about life and the fact that we have to go on with life," Johnson said.

Patricia and Wayne Loder of Milford, Mich., wore buttons with the photos of their children: 8-year-old Stephanie and 5-year-old Stephen. They died in a car accident on March 20, 1991.

Patricia Loder is the executive director of Compassionate Friends' national organization, helping others get through the pain she personally knows. The theme of this year's three-day event, she said, is "Reflections of Love, Visions of Hope."

"If we can give people the idea that there will be a better day tomorrow," Loder said, "then that is our goal."

Reginald Woodard Sr. of Laurel said his son, Reginald Jr., was 21 when he died on the operating table after being shot.

"It has been 21 years since my son died," Woodard said. "There was a trial. The person was found not guilty, but right now we are not sure if the person charged did it or someone else.

"Birthdays and holidays are the hardest times," Woodard continued, "because it brings back a lot of memories."

Rockville lawyer Barry Gordon and his wife, Barbara, lost their 34-year-old son, Jonathan, from an accidental drug overdose in May last year.

The Gordons said they were "blessed" to be in the company of others who share their experience.

"When we walked into that room and saw other people talking about their children without breaking down, I realized that there was a chance for us," Barry Gordon said.

Barbara Gordon said her son was on his way to becoming a successful musician and a member of a rock band. "The real crime is that people don't cherish life," she said. "They don't tell people that they love them, until it is too late."

Asha-Lateef Williams wore a button with a photo of her son, Sekai, who took his life last June. He was 15 years old.

"He was a brilliant young man, but he had a real hard time with how people saw him," said Williams, who teaches at the University of Maryland. "He used to say, 'Why do people think I am stupid? Why do people stare at me? Why do I have cerebral palsy?' "

Sekai told his mother one day that he wanted to go to heaven, and Williams said he made good on his wish.

"None of us should be here," she said. "There are moments when I say that I am not going to cry. I am fine, and then I just laugh at myself because I am bereaved. I miss him all the time.

"It is nice to be here and just say to people 'June 10, 2009,' and that person gives you a hug because they know what you are talking about."