It’s a paradox really-that grieving hearts can be more anxious and more sorrowful BEFORE and AFTER a milestone day, birthday or holiday than on the day itself.
That’s not true for everyone, but it’s a frequent comment in our closed bereaved parent groups.
Fearful anticipation of how awful it MIGHT be can work me up into a frenzy.
At the time all I could manage (barely!) was the twenty-four hours of each long, lonely and pain-wracked day.
After six-plus years I’ve learned to look ahead, plan ahead and forge ahead to birthdays, holidays, special days and not-so-special days.
But it takes a great deal of effort and often uncomfortable conversations because no matter how long it’s been, I’m still dragging loss and its after affects behind me.
I wrote this in 2016 when I was desperate to communicate how hard it is to try to marry joy and sorrow, celebration and commemoration, light, love, life and darkness, grief and death.
I was utterly amazed at the questions people plied me with not long after Dominic’s accident.
They ranged from digging for details about what happened (when we ourselves were still unsure) to ridiculous requests for when I’d be returning to my previous responsibilities in a local ministry.
Since then, many of my bereaved parent friends have shared even more questions that have been lobbed at them across tables, across rooms and in the grocery store.
Recently there was a post in our group that generated so many excellent answers to these kinds of questions, I asked permission to reprint them here (without names, of course!).
So here they are, good answers to hard (or inappropriate or just plain ridiculous) questions:
My friend, Jill Sullivan, invited me to share on the While We’re Waiting Podcast.
I am oh, so thankful for her friendship, for the ministry of While We’re Waiting and for the opportunity to speak about my grief journey, the blog and to share some tips for surviving the holidays after child loss.
Something you hear early on in this grief journey is that one day you will find a “new normal”.
I hate that phrase.
Because while I have certainly developed new routines,new ways of dealing with life, new methods for quelling the tears and the longing and the sorrow and the pain-it is NOT normal.
I don’t know about you, but I find I can often white-knuckle through a holiday itself only to be spent and exhausted on the other side.
Staying busy in the kitchen, trying hard to be present and participate, enjoying extra folks in the house and around the table are great distractions.
I love being with my people!
Thanksgiving Pandemic Style 2020
Of course I’m constantly aware of the quiet tune that plays in the background, “Dom’s not here” but I genuinely appreciate every moment I have with the ones I love.
But…then comes the quiet.
A silent reminder of the hollow carved in my heart.
And I can’t ignore it.
So I have to take a day (or two or three) and rest.
It’s what I call a “holiday hangover” and it has nothing to do with over-indulging in spirits or food.
It’s OK if I don’t rush to tidy the house or start planning for the next get-together. I don’t have to prove anything to anyone.
I can pause, take a breather, sit and read or do nothing at all.
It’s funny what can make my heart race and my eyes fill with tears.
Sometimes it’s obvious- I hear of another son killed in a motorcycle accident.
But sometimes it’s obscure- like when I see someone using a legal pad to take notes.
Either way, triggers take me back to ground zero. They rivet my mind’s attention and my heart’s focus to the very moment I first learned Dominic had left us.
Our family has yet to settle into a routine for the holidays even six years after Dominic ran ahead to Heaven. I’m always looking for new ideas that might be suitable.
Pinterest just doesn’t cater to those trying to craft celebrations that make space for grief and empty chairs.
So here are a few ideas I’ve compiled from other bereaved parents. I hope those who read this post will add their own.
Maybe one or more will help your family make a plan.
❤ Melanie
It cannot be overstated:holidays are extremely hard after loss. Every family gathering highlights the hole where my son SHOULD be, but ISN’T.
There is no “right way” or “wrong way” to handle the holidays after losing a child.
For many, there is only survival-especially the very first year.