My first post in this space was September 16, 2015. A lot has happened since then.
My twenty-three year old son, Dominic, ran ahead to Heaven in a single vehicle motorcycle accident April 12, 2014. It shattered my world and my worldview. Longing for a voice who would tell the WHOLE, unedited story of loss and faith, I felt compelled to begin sharing my own journey. I committed then to being as transparent as possible and I think I’ve been faithful to that promise.
The intervening years have had many challenges. More than four thousand posts tell the tale.
If you’ve been here for the past year or so, you know my father had a devastating stroke at almost ninety years old LAST September. In addition to changing my availability for ministry (as I was caring for him), it means that half my time is spent where there is little internet service and almost no cell phone service so writing and posting are really difficult and require a great deal of forethought and planning.
Then in January, my precious granddaughter, Holly, went to Jesus after a brief two weeks here on earth. It has been a hard journey for all of us but especially for my son and his wife and family.
I have tried, tried, tried to send out hope and light across the Internet and around the world even when my own heart was hanging on by a thread.
Over the years I’ve taken a few short breaks and, without really planning it, I took another one for most of the month of September.
I have Rheumatoid Arthritis and my hands and wrists have made typing difficult so my computer has sat unattended for some weeks while waiting for new medicine to provide relief. Things are just beginning to feel better, so here I am again.
This many years into the journey I have a different perspective than when I began. And I know there are many, other, more popular ways to share insights than what seems now an old-fashioned blog, but this is the format with which I am most familiar and comfortable so I intend to keep showing up.
Some of you are familiar with my ministry, Heartache and Hope (heartacheandhope.org), which I formed a couple years ago. I am praying that next year (2027) I will be able to do some retreats again, perhaps a monthly zoom meeting online and make more devotional and teaching materials available online. Stay tuned (as they used to say!) for updates.
If you’ve read this far, may I ask for your support and prayer?
- Please comment and let me know what challenges you are facing in your child loss journey.
- Tell me what posts have spoken to you and why.
- Allow me to pray for you by sharing your own prayer requests.
Thank you for every heart who has joined me here over the years.
May the Lord meet you where you are in ways that surprise and delight you and may you feel loved, held and comforted.
❤ Melanie
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*** I hope this makes it to you. I used to have a WordPress site about 20 years ago and it keeps asking me to sign in, which I can’t any longer. ***
Melanie, I found your blog in the middle of the night not long after we lost Joel, just shy of his 36th birthday. Even though the cause of death was very different than Dominic’s, Joel died from heart complications brought on by decades of drug use, the feelings of shock, confusion, anger, were all the same. Joel was a strong believer, so I felt secure in the knowledge that he was in the arms of Jesus and no longer suffering. That was the ONLY solace I could find at the time. When you walk alongside someone who uses drugs you grieve so many losses over the years – loss of potential, family community, dreams never to be realized, but where’s there life, there’s hope. Death extinguishes that hope. I have never felt more adrift in my life and it took more than a year to find some footing and start moving in a direction that helped others and, thus, helped me. In your words, I found a kindred sister expressing doubt and a desperate need to continue to believe. I’ve never feared being honest with God – I think He’s big enough to take it. I clung to your words many, many sleepless nights.
Addiction carries so much stigma and shame and the isolation exists all during the journey – and even grows stronger after death. In our grief circles the loved ones echo the same sentiments: “where was the meal train when my kid died,” “why wasn’t our loss listed on the prayer chain on the church website,” etc etc, not to mention the mindless, thoughtless comments made to a grieving mother. One person told me my son died of a self-inflicted wound. Such ignorance masked in the guise of an all-knowing person who couldn’t keep their opinion to themselves. I was so very grateful when you posted a blog about someone who was lost to addiction – without judgment, only love for those left behind. The more we talk about it, the more we remove some of that stigma and reduce the ignorance. I hope.
Thank you, Melanie. Never for a moment doubt the potency of your words or the balm you provide. But also, take care of you. Serving others is a tough road to walk.
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Melanie so much of your posts touch me in different ways. God sends you what you need when you need it. You have a gift with words that speak to my soul. Your post on May 27th really spoke to me “some days still feel like this”. I felt your summer scripture challenge challenged me to look at certain things/feelings differently.
Challenges and prayer requests? I’m really feeling suffocated lately by “friends” who don’t seem to understand I’m not who I was before Chris went home. We’re also struggling with who we are and what will life look like down the road. We didn’t expect Chris to care for us but to be a resource and someone to bounce things off of. Having an only child really places some challenges in our path.
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Melanie – each of your blogs touch me a different way, I feel God provides what we need when we need it but the ones that haves specifically touched me were the summer Scripture challenge. Yesterday’s blog touching base on guardian angels drew conversation between myself and my husband. On May 27th your blog in “some days still feel like this” touched home. what challenges I’m facing go somewhat hand in hand. Who I was when Chris died is certainly not who I am today. I feel I don’t get a break for the change of personality (first prayer request). The other prayer request is currently myself and my husband are struggling trying to figure out what life will like down the road. We didn’t expect Chris to care for us but more we had a resource to bounce things off of, I think we’re kind of lost right. It’ll be three years in December and this road seems to getting harder to travel not easier.
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Our journey into child loss began on March 30,2019. Our son Trevor died from an accidental drug overdose at 26. He would be turning 34 this December. As you know our lives have changed forever. It is the ordinary every day moments that can still bring me to my knees. Seven years is yesterday and forever. I have been reading your posts for seven years and it seems that the days I choose to read them they speak to me as if you were saying exactly what I am feeling at the moment. I understand the pull you have taking car of your father as I am also caring for my mother who is 95. I hope you continue to gain strength physically. I appreciate everything that you do for all bereaved families
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Your writing has meant so much to me, I couldn’t possibly pick one post or subject. You express thoughts and feelings I am not able to put into words myself. Your honesty about losing your child has helped me feel less alone in my grief.
I know that your faith is an important part of how you understand and cope with your loss. I don’t share those beliefs, but I deeply respect what they mean to you, and I hope it’s okay to say that the emotional truth and humanity in your writing reaches me nonetheless.
I am so thankful for you. Please know that your words matter, and that they have made a difference to me.I lost my son in 2021 and one of the hardest parts of grief for me lately is watching my other children grow older while Jack remains forever 21. Their birthdays and milestones are beautiful, but they also remind me of the life he should be living and the years he should be accumulating alongside them. I miss knowing who he would be becoming.
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I lost my 36 year old son, suddenly soon after your loss. Jacob died July 15, 2015 and I have followed you ever since. I appreciate the work you do and the many helpful insights.
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