It’s an old standby-before you criticize someone, walk a mile in their shoes.
But we rarely take time to do that.
Instead we look at another heart and assume that if they are struggling, it’s because they aren’t trying as hard as we might in the same circumstances.
Read the rest here: Walk A Mile In My Shoes
I’m pretty sure THIS holiday season will be different for a lot of folks. Fears surrounding the pandemic may force even the most ardent traditionalists to change their plans.
But some will still forge ahead with all the usual expectations.
So I wanted to share this post NOW while there is time for conversation and adjustment.
Trust me, waiting doesn’t make it any easier.
❤ Melanie
I know it is hard. I know you don’t truly understand how I feel. You can’t. It wasn’t your child.
I know I may look and act like I’m “better”. I know that you would love for things to be like they were: BEFORE. But they aren’t.
I know my grief interferes with your plans. I know it is uncomfortable to make changes in traditions we have observed for years. But I can’t help it. I didn’t ask for this to be my life.
I know that every year I seem to need something different. I know that’s confusing and may be frustrating. But I’m working this out as I go. I didn’t get a “how to” manual when I buried my son. It’s new for me every year too.
Read the rest here: Grief and Holidays:What the Bereaved Need From Friends and Family
Grieving parents often face the additional challenge of trying to help their surviving children process the death of a sibling.
While there are many factors that influence how a particular child understands and works through his or her grief, age at time of bereavement plays a significant role.
Children’s grief can look very different than that of the adults around them.
And that grief may resurface later on as the child grows and matures, even long after the death of a loved one.
Read the rest here: Bereaved Parents Month Post: Sibling Grief Reactions By Age Group
There’s a saying in the South, “You’re making a mountain out of a mole hill”.
It’s supposed knock sense into someone who is overreacting to a small and easily resolved problem. Most of the time it works-stepping back and gaining perspective is a good thing.
But I find that this side of Dominic’s leaving, many, many things that were mole hills before are MOUNTAINS now. Because my faith in my own ability to handle things has become so very small, nearly any challenge feels like a never-ending ascent up the mountain.
Read the rest here: Mountains and Mole Hills
I’ve learned so much in this journey.
I’ve had to unlearn some things too.
One of the things I’ve had to unlearn is that the medical model of “identify, treat, cure” is not applicable to grieving hearts.
Read the rest here: Companioning The Bereaved
I’m pretty sure that every single grieving parent I know has gotten at least one private message, text or phone call that starts like this, “I know that I haven’t lost a child, but…” and ends with some sort of advice that seeks to correct a perceived flaw in how the parent is grieving (in public) his or her missing child.
I know I did. It was the genesis of this post.
But before you hit “send” on that well-meaning missive, you need to know this:
You have NO CLUE.
None.
Truly.
No matter if you lost a spouse, parent, close friend or favorite pet-it’s not the same thing.
Read the rest here: Be Quick to Listen, Slow to Speak
I’m not blind to the danger social media poses to in-person friendship.
For lots of people with busy lives and messy houses it’s a no brainer to choose online companionship over face-to-face lunches, brunches or book clubs.
If I can curate my online presence to reflect only my brightest, funniest and most enviable moments (all from the comfort of home in my pajamas!), why not?
But social media isn’t all bad.
In fact, it can be very, very GOOD for lots of people.
It’s been a godsend for my heart.
Read the rest here: To The Friends I Haven’t Met Yet
Did the mother whose son died pray less or with less faith than the mother whose son lives?
We must be careful to remember that God is sovereign and while we are commanded to pray, our words do not dictate His actions.
He alone knows the end from the beginning. He alone is the Alpha and Omega.
Read the rest here: Prayer After Child Loss: What’s the Point?
My son’s death is a moment in time, a date on the calendar, a thing of the past for other people.
I understand that.
But for me, it’s an ongoing event.
Every time Dominic SHOULD be here but isn’t I lose him again.
Every milestone he should be marking but doesn’t I lose him again.
Read the rest here: “I Lost My Child Today” by Netta Wilson
I’m pretty far past what I call my “season of sorrow” so I don’t really know what came over me the other day.
But somehow the stars aligned or the slant of the sunshine or the smell in the air overwhelmed my heart.
Maybe it’s because Facebook faithfully reminds me of what happened on this date years ago. I know I can adjust the settings but I don’t because it’s both bitter AND sweet to be reminded.
Maybe it’s because summers in Alabama involve fervent activity before nine in the morning with a long, hot lull until more fervent activity after five in the evening.
I really don’t know.
But that’s one of the conundrums of child loss.
I hit a wall and I had a cry and took a short nap (something I only do about five times a year) and I was better.
I try to manage my days to avoid these things but sometimes a little bit of this and a little bit of that blow winds of nostalgia and regret and longing and missing across my soul.
And all I can do is weather the storm.
thelifeididntchoose 