IN his white shirt and red tie, Sam Zhao stood in a 30-member chorus on the stage of a community center in northeast Shanghai’s Hongkou District, singing “Friendship Lasts Forever” with a gentle smile on his face.

It was the first time for the 60-year-old to sing on stage since joining this special chorus last November. Its members are parents who have lost their only child. A huge applause broke out in the hall even though the singers might not sound so professional.

“We applauded not only for their singing, but also for their courage to get over the pain and pull themselves together,” says Zhu Wei, who volunteers with the Shanghai Magnolia Happy Family Service Agency that organized the gathering this March.

The agency has been providing psychological counseling to about 180 families who have lost their only child in Shanghai since early 2014.

“I believe that my son would also applaud me if he heard my song,” Zhao says.

Outliving a child is probably the worst thing a parent can experience. It happens around the world, but it’s especially painful for those Chinese families who have only one child and find it hard to “let go.”

The traditional values of having a son to carry on the family name and raising children to provide for one’s old age are deeply rooted in Chinese society. Therefore, losing children, in most cases the only child, is not only about being separated forever from their beloved, but also robs parents of the support they expect in their old age.

Shidu is a term used to describe a family who has lost their only child and is either incapable or unwilling to have or adopt another one. More attention is being focused on these families as they experience psychological trauma, uncertainty about life in old age and possibly economic difficulties.

Apart from offering subsidies to the families, a large number of government-supported volunteer programs are reaching out to help.

One policy for shidu families was approved in 2008, providing a one-time subsidy of 5,000 yuan (US$805) and a monthly subsidy of 150 yuan for each parent whose child had died before the age of 16.

The monthly subsidy was raised to 500 yuan in 2013, and the relaxed application requirements cover all parents who have lost their only child but incapable or unwilling to have or adopt another one.

As one of the pioneering cities carrying out the one-child policy from the late 1970s, Shanghai has a high proportion of one-child families.

About 36,000 parents in the city received such subsidies in 2010 and an estimated 39,000 families received them by the end of 2012, according to a research on social support projects for families who have lost their only child.

The report, conducted in 2013 by the Shanghai Women’s Federation and Fudan University, aimed to work out feasible social support proposals based on the needs of the families.

Financial support is far from enough to help such families move on when facing such a difficult time. Psychological counseling, care in their old age and consultation on laws and policies are all among the top needs of the families.

Hard to recover

Diana Wu, 53, still feels profound sadness 10 years after leukemia took her then 16-year-old son.

She has kept his room exactly the same as if he had never died, including an open book on the desk and the quilt on his bed. She says she rarely went out and kept murmuring her son’s name in the room, hoping she might get a response.

“He was such a good boy. He studied and behaved well. God was so unfair to take him away,” Wu has repeated to visitors over the years.

A family of three has been the most common family unit in the country for the past 30 years, says Lu Ronggen, director of the Rights and Interests Department of Shanghai Women’s Federation. It’s natural for parents to pour all their love to the child and consider them as the ones whom they can rely on when they are old, he says.

The death of the only child is often like taking away an important pillar in the family, and this leads to instability.

“Many parents cannot stop immersing themselves in pain, and they shut themselves off from the social network they once had,” says Lu. “Repetitive self-blame for failing to taking care of their child and self-contempt for losing hope in life are very common among such parents.”

And in some cases they go to extremes.

Zhao, who sang together with other parents at the gathering party this spring, was determined to avenge his son last year before Shan Jingfang, a volunteer psychological counselor intervened. Believing that his son died of excessive medical treatment in 2007, Zhao claimed he would kill the doctor and then commit suicide by jumping from the hospital building.

“He is not a bad man, but a father drowning in pain. He turned blind to all the consequences of that terrible idea,” says Shan. “He badly needed somebody who could share his pain, convince him to face reality, and help him pull himself together and move on.”

Persuading him to give up the idea, Shan says she kept visiting Zhao every two to three days and called on days she didn’t visit. She recalls sharing his pain and reminding him that killing the doctor would not bring his son back, nor would his son ever condone such an act if he were alive.

Shanghai Magnolia Happy Family Service Agency’s Zhu says, “Psychological counseling is crucial for many parents in the first few years after losing their only child. If they succeed in walking out of the shadow, it will be much easier for them to get back to normal life.”

Concerned about the difficulties these parents face, the government last year started purchasing volunteer services on a trial basis as a way to provide help.

About 20 programs were purchased within the year, providing individual help to families in Changning, Hongkou and Zhabei districts. Shanghai Magnolia Happy Family Service Agency is one of the agencies that work with these parents.

To help parents return to a normal life, a series of activities including health lectures and legal consultations (regarding what to do with their property and other assets since they no longer have an heir), along with baking, singing and dancing classes are carried out regularly in many communities across Shanghai. Both Zhao and Wu are now frequent participants in such activities.

Volunteers also help in some special cases.

Lena Yao, 60, and her 70-year-old husband ended up homeless after selling their only apartment to pay for leukemia treatment for their son, who died at 20 years old in 2004. They had no choice but to rent a shabby apartment in the suburbs.

Knowing their situation, Zhao Hongdi of the Magnolia Agency has helped the couple apply for government-provided housing even though they didn’t fit the requirements. The application hasn’t been processed yet.

“I felt abandoned when my son died,” Yao says. “But the care and help from the volunteers has given me hope. We are not alone.”

Paying such social service agencies as Magnolia has two main benefits. First, they are capable of providing professional services and support; second, parents are more likely to open up to volunteers from such agencies over government officials.

Such programs will be expanded to more districts this year, according to Lu of the Shanghai Women’s Federation.

“Losing the only child is definitely a disaster,” he says.

“These parents face numerous problems and difficulties in life that they had never expected. But we hope that care from society can help them feel warm and connected to the world again.”