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What’s Changed, What’s the Same, Ten Years Down the Road of Child Loss?

What’s changed and what is still the same ten years down the road of child loss?

I’ve thought about this a lot in the past few months as I prepared for, greeted and marked another year of unwelcome milestones since Dominic ran ahead to Heaven.

Some things are exactly the same:

  • Whenever I focus solely on his absence, my heart still cries, “Can he REALLY be gone?” I am STILL A Mess Some Days….
  • The pain is precisely as painful as the moment I got the news.
  • It’s just as horrific today to dwell on the manner of his leaving.
  • I miss him, I miss him, I miss him. I live every day with his Tangible Absence.
  • I am thankful for his life, for the opportunity to be his mama and for the part of me shaped by who he was.
  • The absolute weight of grief has not changed. The burden remains a heavy one.
  • Daily choices are the difference between giving up and going on. I have to make Wise Choices in Grief.
  • My faith in Christ and my confidence that His promises are sure is the strength on which I rely. I have been Knocked Down But Not Destroyed.
  • I passionately look forward to the culmination of all history when every sad thing will come untrue.

Some things are very different:

  • Dominic’s absence is no longer all I see.
  • Sorrow and pain are no longer all I feel.
  • I’ve learned to live in spite of the hole in my heart-his unique place isn’t threatened by allowing myself to love others and pouring my life into the people I have left.
  • Joy and sorrow are not mutually exclusive. They live together in my heart and I can smile and laugh again while still pining for a time when things were different and easier.
  • I am Stronger because I’ve carried this burden for years. I’ve learned to shift it from side to side.
  • The darkness has receded so that I see light once more. I’m not as prone to fall as fast down the dark hole of despair.
  • My heart longs for reunion but has also learned to treasure the time I have left here on earth.

I’ve never hidden the struggle and pain of this journey.

But I don’t want those who are fresh in grief to think that how they are feeling TODAY is the way they will feel FOREVER.

By doing the work grief requires, making wise choices and holding onto hope a heart does begin to heal.

I am not as fragile today as I was on the first day.

And I am so, so thankful for that. ❤

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Repost: Gratitude and Grieving

Gratitude does not undo grief.  

There, I said it.

Gratitude is important.  It is (in my opinion) a necessary ingredient for a healthy and hope-filled and useful life.  It is the key to any real happiness a heart might find on this broken road.

But it cannot fill up the empty place where Dominic used to be.  

Grief does not preclude gratitude.  

Although some broken hearts swear it does. 

Read the rest here:  Gratitude and Grieving: Appreciating What I Have, Acknowledging What I Miss

 

Purpose in Each Day’s Light


It’s my habit to watch the sunrise and the sunset every day.

I usually greet the morning in my rocking chair, looking out my east-facing picture window.  It never gets old to watch darkness chased away by relentless light rising over the tops of trees.

sunrise trees

Beautiful.

Every. Time.

Sunset is a little trickier.

I don’t have a clear view of the west from inside my house and the western edge of my property is peppered with tall trees so I usually only see the beginning of the end of every day.  But one of my favorite things to do is watch the golden glow of lingering light touch the tops of the highest pines and then slip away as the sun sinks below the horizon.

Another day has come and gone.

time-travel

And the days become weeks that become months that become years.

Sometimes the days are long. 

But the years are short.

Some days bring news I don’t want to hear.  Some bring shouts of rejoicing. Either way I’m not the keeper of my days.  The sun neither rises nor sets at my bidding.

But I have choices in the daylight hours.  I can work while the sun is shining or I can worry that it might set soon.

I can take advantage of the light or I can wring my hands anticipating the darkness.

I am not naive. 

I wish I were. 

I wish I didn’t know by experience how much a heart can long for days gone by, days wasted, days that could have held more love and laughter but were overshadowed by worry or hurry or just indifference.

think-you-have-time

So I watch the sunrise to remind me that TODAY is a gift.  And I watch the sunset to remind me that the gift of today is gone forever.

What have I done with it?  Who have I loved?  Where have I placed my energy and purpose and hope?  

Every day is a once in a lifetime opportunity.  

I never want to forget that.  

Sunrise, sunset, Sunrise, sunset
Swiftly flow the days
Seedlings turn overnight to sunflowers
Blossoming even as we gaze
Sunrise, sunset, Sunrise, sunset
Swiftly fly the years
One season following another
Laden with happiness and tears

~Sheldon Harnick

Blessed Are The Brokenhearted

I must remind my heart every day that Jesus Himself declared the blessing in mourning.  

I must remember that there is comfort available at His feet.  

Not in running from my pain, but in embracing it and trusting Him to redeem it.

What blessing is there in mourning?  What comfort in distress?  What good can come from pain and brokenness?

Good questions.

Honest questions.

Questions I have asked God. 

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.”~Jesus

The folks that followed Him up the hill were part of a nation that had waited centuries for deliverance from sin and persecution.  Jesus was surrounded by people powerless to change their circumstances. They were grieving, mourning, in distress.

So when He said, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted” He was offering real hope to the brokenhearted. He was issuing an invitation…

When we  reach the end of our own strength in grief, God invites us into a fellowship of suffering that includes Jesus Christ.

Burying a child is a humbling experience.  It is teaching me that I am powerless and oh, so dependent on the grace and mercy of God.

My heart was broken open wide to receive the truth that fierce love makes me vulnerable to deep pain.

And the pain cleared the clutter and noise of the everyday to focus my mind’s attention and my heart’s affection on the eternal.

My life is swept clean of distraction and foolish things and filled with new understanding of what is important and lasting.

My pain has not disappeared.

But it is making room for the God of all comfort to fill it with hope:

That what I am feeling right now is not forever and forever is going to be glorious…

And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.

Revelation 21:4 KJV

Choosing Love as My Legacy

Grief has worn away some of the sharp edges of my personality.

I’m still prone to impatience-especially when faced with incompetence or hateful behavior in others.

But I’m learning that walking gently through life is not only good for others, it’s good for ME.

Life IS short.  ‘

Not just the life of a child or teen or young adult cut down by accident or disease.

But even if I live my “threescore and ten” the Bible talks about, it will STILL be short.  Seventy, eighty, one hundred years set on the timeline of history or eternity is less than a pinpoint.

What do I want my legacy to be?  What do I want to leave behind for others to remember, to ponder, to carry in their hearts attached to my memory?

small things with great love

That’s easy.  I want my legacy to be love.

I want people to remember that I treated them with kindness, that I respected them as persons, that I reached out, reached down and never separated myself from them by false barriers, foolish divisions or fake measures of who is “better” and who is “worse”.

forget what you say 3

More than anything I want people to feel that I made their burden lighter, not heavier.

So much of life is hard. 

So many things happen for which there is no remedy. 

I can’t choose everything, but I can choose love.

Life is short and we have not much time for gladdening the hearts of those who are traveling the dark way with us. Oh, be swift to love! Make haste to be kind.

– Henri Fredric Amiel

The Missing is Relentless

There have been a number of posts from different parents in our closed groups recently remarking on how difficult this journey continues to be even decades down the road.

From the outside looking in, folks think, “Well, they’ve had plenty of time to adapt”.

But what they don’t understand is that for a parent, it’s not only what we HAD that is missing, it’s what we thought we WOULD HAVE that we miss too.

So every Christmas, every New Year, every birthday, holiday and family celebration our child isn’t present is another “not there” we have to process and accept.

This grief truly is relentless.

 ❤ Melanie

re·lent·less

adjective

opressively constant; incessant.

Synonyms:  persistent, continuing, nonstop, never-ending, unabating, interminable, incessant, unceasing, endless, unremitting, unrelenting, unrelieved.

please be aware i am trying

Hope in Bare Branches

The sun rises behind bare branches and they look beautiful.

In just the right light and at the perfect angle, anything can be lovely.

bare winter branches

It’s true that every living thing needs rest.  Every working part must be oiled.

And while winter can be hard and heartless and cold and cruel, it is also space and time for re-creation.

If I only look harder I can already see tiny buds of springtime promise on the tips of branches overhead.

Death is winter.

Cold, hard, gray.  Every lovely thing fallen and dry underfoot.

A season of rest-not chosen, unwelcome, resisted.

But rest just the same.

Yet the sun still shines and spreads warmth and light on even these bare branches.

winter sunrise pines and zeke filter

After such a long time can the sap still rise?

Is there life left here?

Will spring come again and flowers bloom?

I’m counting on it.

IMG_1795

It will all happen so fast, in a blink, a mere flutter of the eye. The last trumpet will call, and the dead will be raised from their graves with a body that does not, cannot decay. All of us will be changed!  We’ll step out of our mortal clothes and slide into immortal bodies, replacing everything that is subject to death with eternal life.  And, when we are all redressed with bodies that do not, cannot decay, when we put immortality over our mortal frames, then it will be as Scripture says:

Life everlasting has victoriously swallowed death.
     Hey, Death! What happened to your big win?
    Hey, Death! What happened to your sting?

Sin came into this world, and death’s sting followed. Then sin took aim at the law and gained power over those who follow the law.  Thank God, then, for our Lord Jesus, the Anointed, the Liberating King, who brought us victory over the grave.

My dear brothers and sisters, stay firmly planted—be unshakable—do many good works in the name of God, and know that all your labor is not for nothing when it is for God.

I Corinthians 15:52-58 VOICE

An Uncomfortable Exchange

The other day I had an uncomfortable exchange with someone that started with a phone call and ended with a series of texts.

I’ve learned a lot about the unhelpful things folks say to grievers and at this point I can let most remarks roll off like raindrops.

When someone says, “God needed another angel” or “I know just how you feel” (and they do not share my experience) or “at least you have other children/grandchildren” I usually smile, cut the conversation short and hang up or walk away.

So when this old family friend called and asked in a chipper voice, “How are you??!!”, I told them not well since my granddaughter just went to Heaven two days ago.

That invited several platitudes.

I endured them, hoping for a quick end to a painful conversation.

Then the spouse chimed in because they could not contain themselves and felt compelled to share a bit of friend circle news with me.

When I said, firmly but politely, I could not listen to that right now, they got upset.

I genuinely try to educate people outside the grief community when I can so I sent a text explaining that (especially!) when a loss is fresh, such conversations are incredibly painful.

The person responded by telling me I was rude and they were highly offended.

In the early days after Dominic ran ahead to Heaven, I would have curled up on my bed and slept away the pain such an exchange inflicted on my wounded heart.

I’m stronger now.

And I’m not just fighting for myself, I’m fighting for my newly bereaved son and his wife.

So after giving it some time and some thought, I wrote a text.

People might consider it harsh but I will not make death easy for others. It’s not easy on the families directly impacted and it’s not my responsibility to manage the feelings of folks who are not even in the grief circle.

I gave graphic details (which I will not recount here to spare my precious readers who actually lived through things like them) regarding the brief life and difficult death of my precious Holly.

I wanted to shock them into realizing the giant gap between the imagined experience of child loss and the LIVED experience of child loss.

I concluded by saying that if “rude” was the epitome of awful in their world, I was thankful they didn’t have anything to compare it to.

I am quicker to extend grace after all these years because I know many, if not most, folks are genuinely doing the best they can.

But I have boundaries.

I am not required to set myself on fire to keep others warm.

And I’m doing no one a favor by allowing someone who wields words like swords to go unchallenged.

There are still lots of times I remain quiet.

This wasn’t one of them.

An Old Familiar Ache

Sunday morning my sweet granddaughter, Holly, was gathered into the arms of Jesus.

Her little heart just couldn’t bear the weight of this earthly life.

I know her Uncle Dominic will love her well until we join them.

In the meantime I’m left with that old familiar ache-the heaviness sitting on my chest, threatening to squeeze the air from my lungs.

I recognized it immediately even though it’s been a long time since it felt so heavy.

We grieve because we love.

Tears, wails, laments are all reasonable responses to loss.

Death is the enemy. Don’t ever let anyone try to spiritualize that truth away.

God hates death.

Jesus wept at Lazarus’ tomb. His tears weren’t mere sentiment. They were proof that He longed for death to die.

I hate that my son and daughter-in-law now walk the path of child loss. I hate my grandsons will grow up wondering what their baby sister might “look like now”.

It’s another invitation into the deeper grace and greater love of a God who gave His only Son because He is unwilling for sin to win.

I’m thankful that because Jesus came, lived and gave HIS life, death does not have the last word.

“Living He loved me, Dying He saved me, Buried He carried my sins far away, Rising He justified, freely, forever, One day He’s coming-O Glorious Day!“

Glorious Day by Casting Crowns

A Mama’s Broken Heart

The world was stunned by the deaths of Carrie Fisher at 60 and her mother Debbie Reynolds just one day later in 2016.

And it should have been.

Carrie’s death was undoubtedly hastened by a combination of mental illness that led to addictive behavior that led to physical damage that made her a likely candidate for the early heart attack that took her life.

Each of those contributory factors run amok in our society-often undiagnosed or untreated because of the stigma attached to them.  She was rich, famous and had lots of resources available to her yet was still unable to escape the clutches of addiction until late in life.

Debbie Reynolds died of a broken heart. The cause of death may be declared “stroke” but any mama who has buried a child knows full well that the moment they told her about Carrie, her heart gave up.

Mine did when I received the news of Dominic.  I wanted nothing more than to lie down and die and make this awful, unbearable pain disappear.

But I didn’t.  And neither do so very many other mothers and fathers-they keep going.

They sweep together the broken shards and bundle them up and choose to fight.

It’s hard.  It’s tiresome.  

It’s discouraging and it takes every once of energy they can muster.

It saps the strength of the strongest among us.  

I don’t wish child loss on anyone.

But I do wish that the shock and sorrow the world feels over the deaths of Carrie Fisher and Debbie Reynolds might raise awareness of how child loss affects parents and siblings left behind.  

Look around.  

There are people in your own life living this horror.  People who are still striving to carry on when they want to give up.

Take their hands,

encourage their hearts,

help them hold on. 

forgot-to-bury-me

Love is Writing a New and Better Ending

I shared most of this on my personal Facebook page yesterday,

It was written before out sweet girl was gathered in the arms of Jesus.

But honestly, whether she lived or died, the words are still true.

Love has the last word ❤️

Saturday I got to see my little granddaughter,Holly, for the first time and hold her tiny hand.  It’s heartbreaking to walk through double doors and down a hallway where alcove after alcove is filled with hopeful parents keeping watch over their precious children.   

Many people point to such suffering and ask, “Where is God?”. Or they assert that if there is a God, He is neither good nor loving.  Often believers rush to His defense and make things worse by offering weak and illogical arguments that only add confusion and more doubt.  

A lot of my time is spent with broken hearts walking broken paths and I know that for many circumstances in this life there are simply no answers.  Definitely no answers that will satisfy the deep ache left by profound suffering or loss.

So I don’t offer answers.  I don’t toss platitudes like confetti from the sideline as weary ones plod on in the marathon of a fiery trial.  

I don’t know why babies are born so very sick or born straight into the arms of Jesus.   I don’t understand why on the hall opposite the NICU there is a pediatric cancer ward.  I don’t have any idea why one despicable person wreaks havoc on a school full of defenseless children and another kind soul suffers some terrible disease.

I do know that the world is not as God intended or first made it.  Sin has wrought calamity from the beginning.  Atrophy is the goal of this broken place.  

But God…

The Story isn’t over yet.   From Genesis to Revelation, Love is writing a new and better ending.  

Knowing and trusting in that Truth does not make suffering less painful, it only makes it bearable.  

I have no idea how Holly’s life will be woven into the eternal story God is writing but I know she matters. Her beating heart and fragile fingers were created for a purpose.   Jesus loves her.

Yesterday she joined her Uncle Dominic in Heaven.

It is unbelievably hard and sad to feel afresh that familiar ache of sorrow.

But our family is choosing to live in that mysterious and supremely uncomfortable space between what we can know in this life and what we will never understand until Eternity.  ❤️

A Wounded Faith

It is possible to go through life without having to question your faith.

But I’m not sure that is a good thing.

Although I would never, ever have chosen this path, child loss has forced me to entertain questions I might have ignored and to dig deeper than I might otherwise have done if life had been easier and less challenging.

My faith is not blind faith. 

My faith is not unchallenged faith. 

my-faith-is-a-wounded-faith

I am facing the fact that terrible things happen even to those who love and trust God.  I will not parrot empty phrases that promise smooth sailing to new converts if they will “only turn their lives over to Jesus”.  

I don’t even know where we get that idea.  Every single disciple was martyred except John and he was boiled in oil and exiled to the Isle of Patmos.

faith-deliberate-trust

There are faithful believers starving TODAY, dying TODAY and suffering TODAY. 

Why should I be exempt?

‘No heart is as whole as a broken heart.’ And I paraphrase it differently: No faith is as pure as a wounded faith because it is faith with an open eye. I know all the elements of the situation; I know all the reasons why I shouldn’t have faith. I have better arguments against faith than for faith. Sure, it’s a choice. And I choose faith.

~Elie Wiesel