bereaved parent – Page 247 – thelifeididntchoose

Grief, Holidays and Hard Conversations

For those using these posts as a guide for navigating the holidays after loss, I would recommend you view them all before having those hard conversations. I may not be giving the information in the best possible order. The last posts will contain ideas from other grieving parents and grandparents that might be very helpful in deciding what’s best for you and your family. You can share these posts to your own Facebook page or follow the blog via email to have access to them for easy future reference.

You don’t have to bury a child to know that changing long-standing family traditions around holidays is a hard, hard thing.

Just ask a parent trying to work out Thanksgiving and Christmas for the first time after an adult child marries. Suddenly the way things have “always been” are no longer the way things are.

Holidays typically involve so many more people and family members than everyday get-togethers and each person brings expectations, emotions and personal history to the table.

So, that is why I decided to run this series of posts NOW. Because one of the things I have learned over the years is that giving people time to adjust to change is a good thing.

If you have made a Holiday Journal like I suggested, then use a page to list all the people that are typically part of your family’s holiday plans-you might want to make subheadings by holiday (and there may be other special get-togethers your family observes, so include those).

That list is a starting point for the people you may need to communicate with about the upcoming holidays.

Don’t feel like you have to include each individual in a unique communication-you can focus on those who are “in charge” of the gatherings/traditions and request that they pass it along.

Here are some specific tips for reaching out:

Understand that they DO NOT understand.

I know that unless someone has experienced child loss themselves, they really do not understand what it feels like. (You might choose to share this post to help them understand-just a bit:What Grieving Parents Want Others to Know)
No matter how much they may want to, they cannot really feel what I feel. I have to constantly remind myself of that.

Don’t wait.

The closer we get to those dates on the calendar the more likely that others will assume you are just going to continue the traditions.
Most people dislike change. And they hate it even more when it is a last minute change. So don’t delay in at least giving those affected by your plans a “heads up” that things won’t be the same this year.
On a practical note people may need time to change plans if they involve making travel arrangements.

Decide how you will communicate your message.

Do you want to speak to them (on the phone or in person)? This choice allows for subtle communication through tone and inflection but also requires immediate response. Very few people can say, “I need to think about this” before blurting an answer. Sometimes verbal exchanges can escalate quickly.
Do you want to write your message (text, message, email)? This choice allows for a delayed response, gives a record of what was communicated but leaves room for misinterpretation because tone and inflection are hard to indicate by written word. Let your heart and past experience with the person(s) be your guide. It may be that it’s best one way for some and another way for others.

Acknowledge their loss.

Regardless of the relationship of other family members to your missing child, they have lost something and someone too. They may not feel my pain precisely, but they feel the pain of losing a grandson, nephew, cousin and they feel the pain of losing who I was before burying my child.
They need space and permission to express their loss.

Use “I” statements.

Don’t accuse. Don’t bring up every bad memory from Thanksgiving and Christmas past. Start from today and say, “I feel like I cannot do all (or some or any) of these things for Thanksgiving and Christmas this year.”
Be as honest as you can be. Feelings are not wrong. What we do with them may be wrong or hurtful. But it’s OK to say, “I just can’t do this right now” or “I don’t know how to do this without my child”.

Expect resistance.

People naturally hate change. We develop relationship ruts and it takes a lot of energy to climb out of them. They may very well find great comfort in keeping things as “normal” as possible after your loss.
What is helpful for you may feel threatening to them.
Stand your ground without being combative. You can say something like, “I understand this is very hard on you, and I am sorry that this is painful, but it’s just how it needs to be for me and my family to continue to heal.”

If you can, offer an alternative.

In subsequent posts I’ll share some ways other bereaved parents have approached the holiday season. Maybe one of those ideas will appeal to you and you can offer it as an alternative to the way things were before loss.
You might suggest that extended family continue traditions they cherish and you join in for the part you feel you can endure.

Extend grace.

Assume the best. Assume that your extended family and friends are trying to understand and do not want to add to your burden or cause you pain. Re-read messages with an ear to what hearts are saying even when the words may fail to communicate that message.
Ask for clarification before you react. There is so much room for misunderstanding around holiday plans anyway and when you add loss to the mix, it can be a recipe for relational disaster.
Allow time before responding to something that hurts your feelings. It may very well have been unintentional.

I know that all these suggestions require additional emotional energy when we feel we are already tapped out. We are already carrying a load that can crush a spirit-it seems unfair that we have to initiate the conversation, offer alternatives and give grace.

But they do not understand.

And they may not know where to start.

We have to remain focused on the goal: Surviving the holidays.

If your family includes young children, how you approach this season is even more important. You are building memories for them, shaping their childhood experiences and helping them learn to cope with what will be a life-long challenge-living with grief.

Consider printing this post and slipping it in your journal if you are making one. That way you can refer back to it easily.

Tomorrow: What the bereaved need from family and friends…

Grief and Holiday Plans: Working Out the Details

I live in Alabama where we are still sweating buckets under the late summer sun, so I understand if thinking about the holidays is the furthest thing from your mind.

School just starting, new routines in place-am I crazy?

Well, yes (you can find plenty of folks to back you up on that) and no-the days keep coming, one after the other, and these big days will be here sooner than we think.

And for grieving parents, it takes some thinking, some planning and some preparation to meet both extended family’s expectations and extra responsibilities at Thanksgiving and Christmas while carrying a load of sorrow and pain.

One thing I am learning in this journey is that even though I wish someone else would blaze the trail for me, I’m going to have to do it myself. And because every major milestone is overflowing with emotional booby-traps, I have to plan ahead.

I wrote this post Practical Ways to Love Grieving Parents at Christmas last year and it has some thoughts that many found helpful.

But I didn’t have it out there until right around Thanksgiving which might be too late for some folks to make adjustments in plans already made by others.

So even though it’s early, and even though I am and have always been one of those people that resents the “holiday creep” that blends everything after the Fourth of July into a hodge-podge of orange, brown, green and red (UGH!)-I’m going to spend the next couple posts on practical ways to plan ahead and relieve some of the stress of this time of year on bereaved parents.

Here’s a few things to get you started:

Find a notebook or journal (I use a 70 page spiral bound notebook) and write in large print “Holiday Journal” on the front cover.
Find or print copies of calendars from October through December and staple, tape or glue them on the very last pages or the back cover of your journal.
On the first page, note any dates (in order) of birthdays, regular family gatherings and trips, etc. that are already committed for those three months.
On the second and third pages make a heading: BRAINSTORMING. Then list what you like/dislike/hope for/dread about the upcoming holiday season. (an example: I dread having the family together in one place because it makes my son’s absence that much more apparent) Don’t edit yourself-write it all down-we will refer to this later.
On the fourth and fifth pages make a heading: FAMILY TRADITIONS. Then list all the things your family usually does for the holidays (if this is your first season after loss they will all be pre-loss traditions, if not, they may include both pre-loss and post-loss traditions)
Place your journal where you can get to it easily but out of reach of small hands and family pets.

Then take a breath-you. are. not. alone.

We’ll work together to establish a survival plan for the holidays.

Tomorrow: Dealing with extended family and how to have those hard conversations.

Overgrown

In my neck of the woods, if you look close you can see tell-tale signs of old home places as you ride down country roads.

A few daffodils in rows emerge each spring to show where some housewife marked her path from front porch to mailbox. A crepe myrtle looks out of place in the woods but often has a twin if you know where to direct your gaze.

People always leave a trace…

Overgrown

The ground disturbed deep down

Grains of sand and clumps of clay long buried brought to the surface.

Topsy-turvy.

Bottom-side-up.

Days,

months,

years go by-

Rain and wind and sun and patient Nature smooth it out

Until only the most observant see the damage done.

Barely noticeable-the penetrating wound.

A mother’s heart.

Time does not erase the place.

How can it when it hides her child?

A Question of Trust: What About Signs?

It comes up often in bereavement groups:

What about signs from loved ones who have gone on to Heaven?

What about books that tell stories of people who have been to Heaven yet “allowed to return”?

What about cardinals and butterflies and feathers and dreams?

It would be so very easy to allow my feelings to rule my heart and to reject the truth of Scripture. It would be less of a struggle to walk this Valley of the Shadow of Death if I could “talk” to Dominic while waiting to join him.

But the Bible is plain: I cannot trust in anything or anyone but Jesus Christ. Every thing and every one else is fallible and will eventually lead me astray.

I wrote this a few months ago and hope it’s helpful to other grieving parents:

Read the rest here: Signs

Beauty for Ashes

It crosses my mind sometimes.

And it’s a topic of conversation among bereaved mamas:

Why fight?
Why struggle on in this hard life without my beloved child?
Why keep on keeping on when I am so very tired?

There are lots of answers.

Some of us remain in the fight because we still have people depending on us-other children, aging parents, a spouse who is also grieving.

Others persevere because they want to honor their missing child’s memory and life and they do some big thing to commemorate him or her-fight for a cause, promote awareness, create a foundation.

Me-I hold onto the promise that in all this pain, all this sorrow, all this struggle-God is doing a work in me and through me for His glory.

Before Dominic left us I knew only a handful of bereaved mothers.

But each of these women had a sweet, gracious, patient, kindness that flowed out of them like water from a spring.

I saw one of them yesterday.

We hugged and exchanged knowing looks filled with deep love born from deep sorrow. She didn’t ask me about trivial things-because she knows there is really only one question that matters:

Am I continuing to lean on Jesus?

Is He enough?

Do I trust that God will redeem and restore?

Because in the end, the only thing that makes this struggle meaningful is the promise that one day, a never-ending, eternal day, God will bring beauty from the ashes of burying my child.

He will fulfill the promise of the everlasting Jubilee:

He wants me to help those in Zion who are filled with sorrow. I will put beautiful crowns on their heads in place of ashes. I will anoint them with olive oil to give them joy instead of sorrow. I will give them a spirit of praise in place of a spirit of sadness. They will be like oak trees that are strong and straight. The Lord himself will plant them in the land. That will show how glorious he is.

Isaiah 61:3 NIRV

And I believe that God’s going to have show and tell. He’s going to parade His persevering children to a wondering world at the end of the age.

Maybe He’ll say something like, “See! There’s My masterpiece! There’s My love on display! The devil thought he had won, but he is wrong. Eternally and undeniably wrong!”

For we are His workmanship [His own master work, a work of art], created in Christ Jesus [reborn from above—spiritually transformed, renewed, ready to be used] for good works, which God prepared [for us] beforehand [taking paths which He set], so that we would walk in them [living the good life which He prearranged and made ready for us].

Ephesians 2:10 AMP

I want to be pliable under the hand of the Potter-even though it hurts.

I’ll stay in the fire-even though it’s hot.

I’ll trust the One Who made and is making me.

Because the story God is writing for me and my family doesn’t end with ashes.

This is NOT Forever…

One breath

One glance

A single tiny detail transports me from here to there.

Takes me from doing alright to devastation

Changes daylight to dark and grips my soul with terrifying pain.

If I didn’t have hope to cling to

If I didn’t know that every promise of God in Christ is yes and amen

If I didn’t trust that my tears are recorded in His book,

my name written on His hands

and my life secure within His own I’d let the darkness take me under.

Breathe in

Breathe out

It will pass

THIS is not forever.

Forever is waiting for me

Dominic is already there-

Tomorrows without end.

No tears

No fears

No goodbyes

Open arms.

The Forgotten Ones: Grieving Siblings

I am always afraid that Dominic will be forgotten.

I’m afraid that as time passes, things change and lives move forward, his place in hearts will be squeezed smaller and smaller until only a speck remains.

Not in my heart, of course.

Or in the hearts of those closest to him, but in general-he will become less relevant.

But he is not the only one who can be forgotten. I am just as fearful that my living children will be forgotten.

Not in the same way-they are HERE.

They are participating in life and making new memories, new connections and strengthening old ones.

I’m afraid their grief will be overlooked, unacknowledged-swept under the giant rug of life and busyness that seems to cover everything unpleasant or undervalued.

If the course of a bereaved parent’s grief is marked by initial outpouring of concern, comfort and care followed by the falling away of friends, family and faithful companionship then that of a bereaved sibling is doubly so.

Surviving children often try to lessen a grieving parent’s burden by acting as if “everything is OK”.

But it’s not-it is definitely NOT.

Their world has been irrevocably altered. They have come face-to-face with mortality, with deep pain, with an understanding that bad things happen-happen to people they love-without warning and without remedy.

They are forced to rethink their family, their faith and their future without a life-long friend and companion.

Part of their history is gone.

If surviving children are young, it can be so, so easy to mistake the natural enthusiasm and excitement of youth for complete healing. They are often busy with events, education, work and life and the grief they still feel may go unnoticed-even by themselves.

But they need safe, consistent and compassionate care while they navigate grief and the enduring impacts of sibling loss. School counselors, grief counselors or mature and emotionally stable adult friends can be very helpful during this process.

It’s important to be alert to danger signals. Behavioral impacts may present in many ways:

Anxiety (situational, tests, generalized)
Risk taking
Isolation
Inability to enjoy previously enjoyable activities
Withdrawal from family or friends
Depression
Self-harming behavior
Drug or alcohol abuse
Poor grades (may have given up or may not be able to concentrate)
Extreme concern for other family members and their safety

If you observe any of these changes, get help. A grieving parent is rarely able to be the sole source of intensive counsel for a bereaved child-someone outside the grief circle may be a better choice.

Adult children-even those married and with kids of their own-are also changed forever by saying “good-bye” to a brother or sister. Addiction, depression and physical health issues can surface in the wake of loss.

It’s not always easy to connect the dots back to grief since life is full of stress and strain and they may need help.

My children have been blessed to have friends and loved ones who give them a safe place to go when grief overwhelms them or when other stressors on top of grief make life really hard.

If you know a bereaved sibling:

Reach out.
Be an encourager.
Don’t assume that because time has gone by, they are all better.
They may not want to talk about it and that’s OK. But if they do, listen. Without platitudes, without judgement-just be a safe place.
And if you notice something that’s just not “quite right” try to get them the help they may need to make it through this hard place.

Bereaved families are often doing the best they can, but they can’t do it alone.

When you bless my earthly children, you bless me. When you give them space to grieve, you give me space to breathe. When you encourage them, you encourage my heart too.

Don’t forget them.

Please.

Reminding My Heart of Truth

Last week was hard. Partly due to missing Dominic and partly due to things that had no direct link to him, but were made harder because of grief.

I try to do two things when that happens: I withdraw as much as possible to create space for rest and renewal and I remind my heart of the truth:

Preaching Gospel to Myself

Surrender

“Follow Me,” Jesus said to the twelve.

“Follow Me,” Jesus said to me when I was just a child.

“Yes,” I replied-not knowing or counting the cost.

If it was a single commitment without opportunity for turning back then it would be easy.

But it’s not.

Every day I have to face the question, “Did God REALLY say?” Boy that serpent knew just where to aim the spear of doubt so it would cause the greatest damage.

Can I believe that God is in control? Can I believe that He is good? Can I believe that He loves me?

Can I believe all those things when my circumstances scream, “NO!”

But I HAVE to believe.

Because if I can’t trust God, then I am without hope. If I can’t rely on His Word then there’s no foundation and no future. If He is not Who He says He is, then I should just quit now.

So I find myself at the foot of the cross, again. Facing my fears and having to choose: Who shall I serve?

Surrender is hard. Daily surrender is harder.

I cannot remake my heart. I cannot breathe life into my own breathless soul.

I can only place myself on the altar and allow God’s Spirit to do it for me.

So here I am.

Again.

Brothers and sisters, God has shown you his mercy. So I am asking you to offer up your bodies to him while you are still alive. Your bodies are a holy sacrifice that is pleasing to God. When you offer your bodies to God, you are worshiping him in the right way.

Romans 12: 1 NIRV

A Little Extra Grace

Each day I am reminded by sights, smells, sounds and memories that Dominic is in Heaven and not here.

But there are moments and seasons when his absence is particularly strong-when I can’t breathe in without also breathing a prayer, “Father, let me make it through this minute, this hour, this day.”

And that’s when I need grace-from family, friends and strangers.

Anyone who knows ANYONE that lives with loss knows that Thanksgiving, Christmas, birthdays and remembrance days are sure to be especially hard for those left behind.

What some may not know is that there are other, hidden, pitfalls on this journey through the Valley of the Shadow of Death.

For many bereaved parents the beginning of the school year is one of them.

Even though my son was long past school age when he left, that shiny penny newness and promise of another year of school, another step toward maturity and the rest of life, another marker on the road to what every parent hopes will be a beautiful future is a painful reminder that my child won’t be doing anything new here on earth.

And a little extra grace goes a long way toward making this season easier to endure.

A bit more patience as I walk slowly across the parking lot, lost in thought and unaware you are behind me trying to get on with life or park your car.
A smile when I accidentally bump my cart into yours in the grocery aisle-having just passed his favorite food or smelled coffee and been instantly transported to his finicky passion for all things caffeine
Calm responses when I jump to conclusions, cut you off mid-sentence or answer a query with a less-than-kind tone of voice.

Want to be especially encouraging to a parent missing their child in heaven?

A text or message or a “thinking of you” card can turn a dismal day into one full of sunshine.
Do you have a special memory or memento you could share? What a gift!

If you see us in these next few days and weeks as thoughts and hearts turn from summer to a new semester, be patient-we are once again reminded that our child’s earthly story has ended.

It’s a hard truth to embrace.

Every. time.

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