Melanie

Five Helpful Ways To Support A Grieving Parent

It’s oh, so hard to know what to do when you are watching a heart break.

You want to reach out and make it better, make the pain go away, make a difference. But it seems like nothing you can do will matter much in the face of such a huge loss.

While it’s true that you cannot “fix” the brokenness in a bereaved parent’s life, there are some very important and practical ways you can support them in their grief-especially as the weeks turn into months and then to years.

Read the rest here: Five Practical Ways to Support a Grieving Parent

I’m Not Anti-Social. I’m Selectively Social.

It’s kind of odd to see most of the world suddenly forced to embrace a lifestyle I’ve followed for the past seven years.
While I’ve always been an introvert, I was not nearly the homebody I’ve become since my son ran ahead to heaven.
Now staying in, carefully planning social events and obligations, leaving a few days between high-energy gatherings and just generally pacing myself is the norm.
I’m truly not anti-social. I love my people. I love seeing them and talking to them.
But since there’s only so much energy to go around I AM selectively social.
❤

Grief changes lots of things.

I am simply not able to spend energy on frivolous and marginally meaningful social activities anymore.

I’m sure that hurts some folks feelings and I am truly sorry.

But I can’t help it.

Read the rest here: Not Anti-Social. Just Selectively Social.

You Don’t Lose Them All At Once

It would be easier, in a way, if it happened all at once.

If the vivid memories of his voice, his laugh, his body language, his sense of humor just disappeared-POOF!-now-you-see-it-now-you-don’t. Then I could make a single adjustment.

But that’s not how it is. Instead, the living proof of his existence recedes like a wave from the shoreline, only there’s no returning surge to remind me of the force that was Dominic.

Read the rest here: Slow Fade

My Frailty Doesn’t Offend God

God is not offended by my human frailty. He isn’t looking down from Heaven, shaking His head at my halting steps forward on this long, hard road.

He understands my fear, my sadness, my longing for wholeness.

But sometimes it’s hard for me to remember that.

Read the rest here: Feet of Clay

Leave Nothing Unsaid

I happened to be traveling recently and saw that Anderson Cooper, son of Gloria Vanderbilt, has filmed a documentary about his mother titled Nothing Left Unsaid. I don’t know much about him or the film, but the title immediately struck a chord in my heart.

I am learning so much through grieving my son.

I am learning by hard experience that we may not have tomorrow.

And I am learning that what weighs most heavily on my heart is not the things I said or did but the things I didn’t say or didn’t do.

Read the rest here: Nothing Left Unsaid

A Thousand Pieces

We buried the earthly remains of my son seven years ago today.
I still have no idea how I walked away from that deep pit where his body would be lowered never to see daylight again.
But I did.
Western society doesn’t like to acknowledge the horror of death. We don’t like to be too dramatic, cry too loudly, wail and weep throwing our bodies over a casket.
But maybe we should.

Why can’t we have a dramatic outburst at the edge of death that burns an unforgettable image in the hearts and minds of those who join us to say good-bye?

Read the rest here: Fragments

Bitterness: A Terrible Legacy

Oh, how easy it would be to become bitter!

If I’m honest, part of me just wants to tell the world to “Get lost!”.

But the wiser part of me knows that’s neither a helpful nor healthy response to even this most awful burden of child loss.

Lament is how we bring our sorrow to God. Without lament, we won’t know how to process pain. Silence, bitterness, and even anger can dominate our spiritual lives instead.
~Mark Vroegop – Dark Clouds Deep Mercy

Because my bitter spirit wouldn’t stop with me.

Read the rest here: Bitterness Is A Terrible Legacy

Tested Faith Is Born Of Questions

In the midst of this uncertain time many people are asking questions.
That’s a good thing.
Because unlike others who may insist that faith never questions, I maintain that faith begins with questions.
Who needs a God who knows everything if they never wonder about anything?
It’s no sin, to ask, “Why”.
❤

The Psalms are filled with questions.

Jesus Himself asked, “My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?” from the cross.

God invites us to ask.

Read the rest here: It is No Sin to Ask, “Why?”

Ask Me, Not My Kids, How I’m Doing. Please.

It may seem like the easiest way to get an inside scoop on how I’m REALLY doing-but don’t do it.

Please don’t ask my kids how I’m doing.

Respect the fact that they have their own grief burden. Respect family privacy and understand you are putting them in an impossible position.

If you want to know-to REALLY know-how I’m doing, ask me.

Read the rest here: Please Don’t Ask My Kids How I Am Doing

Learning to Listen: A Lesson From Loss

I admit it: I’m a fixer.

But there are some things you just can’t fix.

I knew that before Dominic ran ahead to Heaven but I mostly ignored it.

I can’t do that anymore.

So I’m learning to listen better. Learning to let others express the hard things that can’t be fixed so that their burden is a bit lighter for the sharing.

Read the rest here: Lessons in Grief: Learning to Listen

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this: