A Peek Inside a Grieving Mother’s Thoughts


Ninety miles an hour-that’s how fast my mind can go from here to there.

From what’s in front of me to what’s behind me.

From laughter to swallowing sobs.

We sit in a living room surrounded by toys and playing with children, talking about life and love and plans and people.  The little brown face that turns his eyes to mine looks so much like Dominic I have to suck in my breath.

Giggles.  Squeals.  Cars running up and down my arm and around my feet.

I will never see Dominic’s children.  No brown face made from his genes will ever look into mine, arms reaching for a hug, slobbery kisses planted on my cheek.

Driving down the road I see the motorcyclist weaving in and out of traffic-angling for a quicker way along the highway, trusting other drivers to do their part in keeping him safe.

And my heart nearly stops.

Please, please, please be careful!  Your mama doesn’t want to bury you!

Nothing I can do or say.  Just like that morning.  No way to undo what may happen, what has happened.

heart baloon girl

Stop for groceries.  No more wandering up and down the aisles looking for bargains, drawing in smells of yummy goodness.

Stick to the list.  Only go where I have to.  There are so. many. ways. to miss him!  So many sights and smells and memories that lurk around each corner and draw my heart back in time to before-before it knew what it was to have a child utterly unreachable.

Small talk.  Pay attention, Melanie!  Don’t let your mind drift and lose the conversation thread.

“You doing OK today, ma’am?”

OK-what does that mean?  Not crying?  Not screaming at the awful reality that fills my days?  Still walking?  Still functioning?  Still able to get in my car and buy groceries?

“Yes, I’m fine.  How about you?”

fine not fine


Author: Melanie

I am a shepherd, wife and mother of four amazing children, three that walk the earth with me and one who lives with Jesus. This is a record of my grief journey and a look into the life I didn't choose. If you are interested in joining a community of bereaved parents leaning on the promises of God in Christ, please like the public Facebook page, "Heartache and Hope: Life After Losing a Child" and join the conversation.

20 thoughts on “A Peek Inside a Grieving Mother’s Thoughts”

  1. Melanie, you write what is in my heart .this is another post to which I’m thinking yes, yes ..that’s right. The grief can just hit me like a giant snowball..from nowhere..it could be driving along in the car, a song comes in and then the tears and the wail literally from my soul. The thought of the joy and laughter my son brought..a ray of sunshine to everyone he met, can make me laugh out…then cry .he’s not here! Why. It’s not right that he is gone. It’s not real.
    Beautiful son I miss you so much my heart is sore, and it hurts! My son spread joy and happiness wherever he went, I feel like a light has gone out in the world without him.
    I keep thinking How could he leave me so suddenly, without warning..just like that. Forever 12. Forever loved and forever my son x
    I am lost. I go on for my darling children.. except one lives with Jesus now in heaven and we will NEVER EVER get over it, nor accept it.
    I take your advice with the ‘how are you doing” question and turn the conversation around to THEM. I really really don’t want to be told that “I’m doing great” or whatever comment ..I have no choice ..we must go on .. we KNOW we will be reunited with our darling children. They are safe with Jesus. Thank you Melanie, thank you every who posts comments because you are walking alongside me lead by the Lord xx

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Dec 10th. 2021, not even 5 months yet. Today is worse than yesterday. Will tomorrow be worse than today? My beautiful beautiful Brady boy. How I miss you. Until heaven. Can’t wait to see your smile and laugh again. Forever and ever and ever

    Liked by 1 person

  3. it will be 6 years on January 20, 2021 that my Lydia took her life. its so so hard to go on. I am so so so tired. because of my beliefs, I will never see her again.


  4. I look forward to receiving your posts each day, and while I can see that many of them have been written a while ago, they are still relevant as each new member joins this awful “club”. For us, it is week 49 since our amazing son left this world and it feels like every day is getting harder.

    A friend was telling me about her elderly mother who is gravely ill and now in the hospice while she waits for the end. She was describing the beautiful room, furnishings and views and I had to excuse myself as I burst into tears! While I felt really sorry for her watching her mother in this situation, I was overcome remembering my son’s passing. He was not surrounded by loving family in a comfortable bed. He was alone, afraid. His death was sudden, unexpected and violent. The list of injuries in the coroner’s report haunts me and I pray that he didn’t feel what happened. I pray that he is at peace and that he knows how much we love him.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Oh, dear mama! That’s exactly the kind of mental exercise we do so often. I’m sorry.

      I was at a family wedding this past weekend with a side of our family I don’t see often. Only a couple of them bothered to come to Dom’s funeral even though he was the first (thankfully!) child to ever be killed in our extended family. I was battling so many different narratives the whole time. Smiling, shaking hands, hugging necks and constantly switching between what was going on inside and what was going on around me.

      I often think about Dom’s last moments. It’s a hard thing to do. I’m sure our boys know they were and are loved.

      May the Lord continue to give you strength to hold onto hope. ❤


  5. Thank you Melanie. Halloween is my day. It has been 3 years. My son was also taken instantly. I remember my husband telling me about the accident. I think this year is harder than last year. I can’t believe it’s been 3 years since I told my son to have a good day at school and I loved him. Him yelling up the stairs he loves me too. 3 years. He was only a junior in high school. I weep for all that he will never do or have.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I think the missing never ends. When our child leaves for Heaven before us, we don’t only miss what we once knew and experienced, we also miss what we will never know or experience with them on earth. May the Lord overwhelm your heart with His love, grace and mercy. ❤


  6. Thank you Melanie, for giving a glimpse into the raw reality that we live. Ironically, if I had read this post when you initially created it one year ago, I would have been sad for a stranger. One year later, I read this as a broken hearted mama, 353 days into our shared journey, and it soeaks truth to everything that I am feeling. Oh, what difference a single year can make in one’s perspective. Thank you.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I am so sorry that you know this pain from experience. Our lives can change in an instant in ways we could never expect nor imagine. I pray that you feel the Father’s loving arms around you and that He strengthens you to hold onto hope. ❤


  7. Yes, you are always touching the inner depths of my heart. I had to go to the emergency room yesterday and didn’t realize I would be hit like a ton of bricks w uncontrollable emotions as I stepped through those sliding doors. The last time I was there was in January right after Logan’s atv accident. Standing there numb w racing thoughts. As my husband walked in just after me I saw we were on the same page. Weeping uncontrollably. As we were brought back to my room each step hard to take as we passed rooms Logan had been many times over his short lived 13 years. From the broken arm and MANY ear infections. Then having to repeat again and again why we were a mess as each new staff person came through the doors. Talk about unexpected moments. Thank you for letting God use you to lift our hearts up, encourage us, and point us back to our Savior. Ann

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Oh, Ann! How awful! I didn’t have any hospital memories with Dom as he was killed instantly. But I’ve been hospitalized twice since his death and found that something about it just washed sorrow over me like almost nothing else! Thank you for callling courage to my heart by taking time to share part of your story and telling me how the blog helps you. May the Lord give you strength for each day. ❤


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