Melanie

Another Milestone

I began this blog almost a year and a half into my grief journey.

At first I wasn’t fully committed to writing on a regular basis.

I certainly never thought I’d write every day.

But this month marks a milestone: From November 1, 2015 to today I have posted at least once a day. Not every post original-some reposts of my blog or links to other blogs.

But I’ve shown up.

And it has been helpful to me, even if it hasn’t helped anyone else.

I had been journaling since the day I got the news but was too raw and too hurt to share my thoughts with anyone but God.

Goodness, I’d been journaling for almost 20 years and never expected to share any of it with anyone. It was my way of working through hard emotions, recording insights and venting things that wouldn’t be helpful for others to hear.

But here I am-letting so much of it out to the world.

Every time I press “post” I still tremble. Am I saying something helpful? Hurtful? Foolish? Wise? I never know until I get some feedback.

I appreciate everyone who has commented on or “liked” or shared a post.

It gives me courage to carry on.

My only ambition for this effort is that I remain authentic, faithful and honest about the journey through the Valley of the Shadow of Death.

I want to finish well. I want to make Dominic proud.

It is my way of redeeming the pain.

Thank you for joining me in the journey.

easier-to-begin-than-finish-well

Repost: Thankful But Broken

Thanksgiving has always been my favorite holiday.

My birthday sometimes falls on the day itself, and I have often been able to celebrate with extended family and friends-a full table of food and a full house of fellowship.

I love the colors of fall, the scents of cinnamon and pumpkin, the freedom from gift-giving pressures that lets me focus on the people in my life.

Read the rest here: Thankful But Broken

HALTing a Grief Spiral

If you’ve ever been in any kind of counseling or recovery group , you have probably seen or heard this acronym and advice: HALT before you speak.

It’s a great reminder that I should take a moment to consider my frame of mind before I blurt out something that might damage a relationship or wound someone else’s heart.

I had never thought about it until recently, but it is also a great reminder to us who grieve that what we interpret solely as grief (which we cannot control) might be compounded greatly by other things (some of which we can control).

So I am learning to apply the HALT acronym to a grief spiral in my own life.

When I feel absolutely overwhelmed and the grief wave is dragging me under I ask myself, “Am I hungry, angry, lonely or tired?”

H-Am I hungry?

Have I eaten something within the past 4-6 hours?
Have I had enough water in the past 2 hours?
Have I eaten too much sugary food today (this can impact blood sugar even if I’m not “hungry”)?
Am I eating a balanced diet overall?
Am I grazing and eating too much?
Do I have an underlying physical condition such as hypoglycemia or diabetes which may impact my ability to think clearly?

Some of us eat our feelings and some of us avoid food when we are stressed. Either can be terrible for health and for mental well-being.

If you have ever been diagnosed as borderline diabetic in the past, intense grief can send you over the edge-request that your primary health provider do an A1-c test, not just measure fasting glucose.

If you don’t feel like eating, make it a non-option. Set an alarm on your phone if you have to and consider food as medicine. If you aren’t fueling your body appropriately, you just simply don’t have the energy to do all the things grief requires.

If you find you are overeating, try to portion out healthy and lower calorie snacks that can help you feel full but are lower in sugar and empty calories. Or instead of eating, try taking a walk or doing a few minutes of impromptu exercise.

A-Am I angry?

Somewhere in life I embraced the idea that anger is “bad”. When I am angry, I feel the anger and also feel guilty for being angry.

Has someone said something that upset me?
Has someone done/not done something that frustrates me?
Am I angry at God?
Am I angry at my missing child for leaving/for choices they made/for not saying “good-bye”?
Am I angry at myself for not protecting my child (even if it was not in my power to do so)?
Am I angry with my spouse or other close family members because they are not grieving in the same way as me?
Am I angry that the world goes on without my child?
Am I angry at friends that haven’t “been there” for me?

Acknowledge your anger.

If it is toward a person, ask yourself if you can bring it to them and mend the relationship. If that’s not an option, think about how you can construct boundaries to limit that person’s impact on your life, at least while you are experiencing the most intense feelings of grief.

If it’s toward God, express it in a journal or aloud or to a safe friend. The Psalms are full of “Why God?”; “Where are You?”; “Why have You abandoned me?”

If your anger is toward your missing child, consider writing your thoughts in a journal or a letter to him or her. Often I find that really all I need is an opportunity to express myself. It doesn’t “fix” things, but it makes them bearable.

L-Am I lonely?

Grief is an isolating experience.

Once the funeral and first few days or weeks pass by, most people around us either don’t think about our loss or don’t recognize its ongoing impact on our daily lives. There have been many days when I have felt very, very alone.

Do I feel isolated in grief?
How long has it been since I was with other people?
Have I called/texted/messaged anyone today?
Has anyone called/texted/messaged me today?
Do I feel like nobody understands me?
Do I feel like God has abandoned me?
Do I feel like I just can’t talk to anyone anymore because of the differences in our experiences?

I have been blessed with some amazing friends who continue to seek fellowship even though it’s been 2 1/2 years since my son left us. And I also joined several online communities of bereaved parents where I can vent my feelings any time and be assured that I am received, affirmed and understood.

I think anyone who hopes to heal after the loss of a child must have a safe someone to talk to. If you don’t have friends or family that can fill that need, consider counseling. There are just some things you have to speak aloud to be able to work out.

T-Am I tired?

Did I sleep last night?
Am I going to bed too late or waking too early?
Am I staying overly busy and running myself down?
Am I getting adequate and appropriate exercise?
Am I taking medication that makes me sleepy/tired?

I know that for many bereaved parents, sleep is elusive. And once asleep, staying asleep is a whole other issue. But without proper rest, you cannot have the resources to do the work grief requires.

If you are consistently struggling with sleeplessness, consider asking your healthcare provider for help. There are a number of natural sleep remedies (melatonin, valerian root, etc.) that may be appropriate. And if necessary, prescription medicine can help break the cycle of insomnia.

None of these things-hunger, anger, loneliness or feeling tired-are the root cause of my grief.

I grieve because my son is gone.

BUT–any of them, or a combination of them-can make me more vulnerable to feeling worse IN my grief.

I cannot control the fact that I am grieving.

I cannot remove the burden of sorrow and pain that losing a child has placed upon me.

But I can make adjustments in my lifestyle or life choices to make it easier to bear that burden.

Lesson From the House of Mourning

Our culture consumes death like candy bars-video games, violent television series and gory movies. Halloween is one of the biggest “holidays” celebrated in America.

We are desensitized to news stories of destruction and devastation because we’ve “seen” it all.

Yet we are a society that shuns mourning.

We can’t stand to hear the keening wail of mothers following the linen clad bodies of their fallen children.

We segregate funerals to special buildings that look like low-slung country clubs complete with ornate light fixtures, clean bathrooms and temperature controlled environments. In many places we no longer bury our dead next to a church where the living and the gone before mingle, waiting the glorious appearing of our Lord Jesus Christ.

All this so we can ignore the lesson of Solomon.

“It is better to go to a house of mourning than to go to a house of feasting, since that is the end of all mankind, and the living should take it to heart.”

Ecclesiastes 7:2 HCSB

I was only three but I remember my great-grandaddy laid out in the living room.

My parents didn’t hide me away in some corner and allow me to grow up pretending death didn’t exist. They didn’t shield me from visiting my ailing relatives or from standing by the gravesides of my ancestors.

I brought my children to funerals from an early age.

There’s no use pretending that people’s bodies don’t die. Sooner or later it catches up to you.

But while our bodies don’t last forever, our spirits do. We are eternal beings, you and me.

It’s not a question of IF we will live forever, but WHERE.

And that was Solomon’s point: decide while you still can who and what has your heart.

Because that choice determines where you spend eternity.

There is only one way to the Father’s House-through Jesus.

In the long run the answer to all those who object to the doctrine of hell, is itself a question: What are you asking God to do? To wipe out their past sins and, at all costs, to give them a fresh start, smoothing every difficulty and offering every miraculous help? But He has done so, on Calvary. To forgive them? They will not be forgiven. To leave them alone? Alas, I am afraid that is what He does.

C.S. Lewis in The Problem of Pain

Do you know Jesus?

He KNOWS you. He LOVES you. And He died for YOU.

He rose to conquer death for you.

He has made a Way where there was no way.

No one gets out of here alive…choose this day whom you will serve.

It makes an eternal difference.

If you declare with your mouth, “Jesus is Lord,” and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. For it is with your heart that you believe and are justified, and it is with your mouth that you profess your faith and are saved. As Scripture says, “Anyone who believes in him will never be put to shame.”For there is no difference between Jew and Gentile—the same Lord is Lord of alland richly blesses all who call on him, for, “Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.”

Romans 10:9-13 NIV

Repost: A Different Me

I’m not the same me I was two years ago.

I no longer look with confidence down the driveway as friends and family pull away, certain that we will see one another soon.

I whisper, “Be safe” when we part, but know that they are not the keeper of their days and that “being safe” doesn’t mean everyone escapes deadly peril.

Read the rest here: A Different Me

How Many Children Do You Have?

A friend shared this poem recently. I had never read it before but it spoke to my heart.

Whenever someone asks, “How many children do you have?”

I always give the true answer, ” I have four children.”

Because I do.

We Are Seven

By William Wordsworth

———A simple Child,
That lightly draws its breath,
And feels its life in every limb,
What should it know of death?

I met a little cottage Girl:
She was eight years old, she said;
Her hair was thick with many a curl
That clustered round her head.

She had a rustic, woodland air,
And she was wildly clad:
Her eyes were fair, and very fair;
—Her beauty made me glad.

“Sisters and brothers, little Maid,
How many may you be?”
“How many? Seven in all,” she said,
And wondering looked at me.

“And where are they? I pray you tell.”
She answered, “Seven are we;
And two of us at Conway dwell,
And two are gone to sea.

“Two of us in the church-yard lie,
My sister and my brother;
And, in the church-yard cottage, I
Dwell near them with my mother.”

“You say that two at Conway dwell,
And two are gone to sea,
Yet ye are seven! I pray you tell,
Sweet Maid, how this may be.”

Then did the little Maid reply,
“Seven boys and girls are we;
Two of us in the church-yard lie,
Beneath the church-yard tree.”

“You run about, my little Maid,
Your limbs they are alive;
If two are in the church-yard laid,
Then ye are only five.”

“Their graves are green, they may be seen,”
The little Maid replied,
“Twelve steps or more from my mother’s door,
And they are side by side.

“My stockings there I often knit,
My kerchief there I hem;
And there upon the ground I sit,
And sing a song to them.

“And often after sun-set, Sir,
When it is light and fair,
I take my little porringer,
And eat my supper there.

“The first that died was sister Jane;
In bed she moaning lay,
Till God released her of her pain;
And then she went away.

“So in the church-yard she was laid;
And, when the grass was dry,
Together round her grave we played,
My brother John and I.

“And when the ground was white with snow,
And I could run and slide,
My brother John was forced to go,
And he lies by her side.”

“How many are you, then,” said I,
“If they two are in heaven?”
Quick was the little Maid’s reply,
“O Master! we are seven.”

“But they are dead; those two are dead!
Their spirits are in heaven!”
’Twas throwing words away; for still
The little Maid would have her will,
And said, “Nay, we are seven!”

Source: The Longman Anthology of Poetry (Pearson, 2006)

wisdom-is-often-nearer-when-we-stoop-than-when-we-soar

Bereaved Parent’s Wish List

This list is adapted from a friend’s Facebook post (with permission) and a list published by Children’s Hospital of Colorado.

BEREAVED PARENT’S WISH LIST:

1. I wish my child hadn’t died. I wish I had my child back.

2. I wish you wouldn’t be afraid to speak my child’s name. My child lived and was very important to me. I need to hear that my child was important to you also.

3. If I cry and get emotional when you talk about my child, I wish you knew that it isn’t because you have hurt me. My child’s death is the cause of my tears.

4. Being a bereaved parent is not contagious, so I wish you wouldn’t shy away from me. I need you now more than ever.

5. I might be sad and I might cry, but I wish you would let me talk about my child.

6. I wish you wouldn’t expect my grief to be over in a certain amount of time. I wish you could understand that my grief will never be over. I will suffer the death of my child until the day I die.

7. I am working very hard on my recovery, but I wish you could understand that I will never fully recover. I will always miss my child, and I will always grieve that my child is gone.

8. I wish you wouldn’t expect me to “not think about it” or to “move on.” Neither will happen, so don’t frustrate yourself.

9. When I say, “I’m doing okay,” I wish you could understand that I don’t “feel” okay and that I struggle daily.

10. I wish you knew that all of the grief reactions I’m having are very normal. Depression, anger, hopelessness, and overwhelming sadness are all to be expected. So, please excuse me when I’m quiet and withdrawn or irritable or cranky.

11. I wish you understood that grief changes people. When my child died, a big part of me died as well. I am not the same person I was before my child died and I will never be that person again.

12. I wish very much that you could understand …understand my loss and my grief, my silence and my tears, my void and my pain but I am so very thankful you don’t share my experience.

Speak Your Peace-You May Not Get Another Chance

Just a couple of days before Dominic left us, I and another one of my kids had a fuss.

He was frustrated and stressed and I was vulnerable and stressed and a few stray words ended up hurting my feelings.

I said, “I can’t talk anymore now”, and hung up the phone in tears.

He was sorry and I was sorry and we immediately exchanged texts and let the feelings cool so we could resume our conversation the next day.

He sent me flowers.

They were still beautiful when he came home to bury his brother.

Our family observes a rule: Don’t part in the heat of anger.

We may not be over our pain and the reason for the dispute may be legitimate, but NOTHING trumps relationship.

I am so very thankful for that rule. Because one burden I don’t have to carry is that I might have left Dominic wondering if everything was OK between us.

It was.

So I say to you:

Speak your peace.
Say you’re sorry.
Move TOWARD the people you love and not away from them.

I pray every time I hear a siren that the person they are going to rescue will be alright. I pray that the family that loves that person will get another chance. I pray that the call that’s made is, “Come to the hospital to see me” and not “Come to the morgue”.

But you never know-you have NO guarantee that the last time you see or speak to someone you care about won’t be the LAST time.

And then you cannot undo the horror of regret that they might have left this world wondering if you loved them.

“I love you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want to stay angry with you. Please forgive me.”

Say it loud, say it often, say it NOW.

Repost: Living Between the Crucifixion and the Resurrection

A close family member is facing a difficult, scary and extensive surgery.

It’s one more reminder that we live in a broken world.

The victory Christ gained is real. But we do not yet have the full benefit of all its fruit.

We still face death.

We still bear pain.

We still long for that day when ALL will be made right.

Until then, we Live Between the Crucifixion and the Resurrection.

Repost: How Do You Breathe?

“It was the question I asked the bereaved mother that came to my son’s funeral.

It was the question a mother asked me as we stood by her granddaughter’s casket, surrounded by family and flowers.

And it is the right question.

Because when the breath leaves the body of your child, and you look down at the shell that used to be the home of a vibrant, living soul, you simply can. not. breathe.”

Read the rest here: How Do You Breathe?

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