Today is National Siblings Day. It’s fun for those of us who haven’t had to bury a brother or sister to post silly photos and memories.
But for those who have lost a sibling today is bittersweet.
Want to know how to love someone who is missing a brother or sister?
Ask them for a favorite memory. Tell them you recognize it hurts. Don’t dismiss their grief and rush to ask about a surviving mother or father.
Love them. Be there.
❤ Melanie
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.
I remember as a young mother of four working hard to keep my kids safe.
Next to fed and dry (two still in diapers!) that was each day’s goal: No one got hurt.
It never occurred to me THEN to add: No one got killed.
Because the most outlandish thing I could imagine was one of them falling or touching a hot stove and us having to rush to the emergency room.
Then I became a mother of teens and one by one they acquired a driver’s license and motored away from our home.
That’s when I began to beg God to spare their lives.
One particularly frightening test was when all four went to Louisiana-my eldest driving and the rest in the van with her. I made them call me every hour and tell me they were OK. It was the first time I realized that I could lose every one of them in a single instant should they crash-all my eggs in one basket.
I was glad when that day was over. Although the irony is they were no “safer” at the end of those 24 hours than they were at the beginning.
Because what I know now, but didn’t know then is this: There is no such thing as“safe”.
Not the way we like to think of it-not the way we add labels to devices, seat belts to cars, helmets to everything from bicycles to skateboards. Of course we should absolutely take precautions!Many lives are saved by them every single day.
But. BUT…
Life is more random than we want to admit.And there is no defense against random.
There is no way to screen for every underlying physical abnormality, no way to drive so well you can stop the drunk or inattentive driver from plowing through a stop sign, no way to anticipate every foolish choice a young person might make that ends in disaster instead of a funny story.
My first response when Dominic died driving his motorcycle was that I wanted my surviving sons to sell theirs. They did so out of respect for me. Neither of them wanted their mama to have to endure a second knock on the door and the same message delivered twice.
I receive it as a sacrifice offered in love from them.
Because it was.
Since Dominic left us almost [eleven] years ago, I have had to deal with my desperate need to keep my living children safe.
And it is a real struggle.
Each child is involved in a career that includes inherent risk. None of them are foolhardy, but they are exposed-perhaps more than many-to potential bad actors and dangerous circumstances.
This branch fell just minutes after my son was standing in that spot splitting logs.
How I long for those days when I could tuck everyone in, turn out the lights and sleep soundly because all my chicks were safe inside my own little coop! How I wish the only danger I thought about or knew about was a bump on the head from hitting a coffee table!
How my heart aches for one more moment of blissful ignorance!
But I can’t live in some imagined water color past. I have to live in the world as it is.
So I remind my heart that safe is an illusion-no matter where we are. Life is not living if it’s only about preserving breath and not about making a difference.
I first shared this post in 2016 when we had muddled through the first two holiday seasons after Dominic left us and were headed for a third.
Now facing our eleventh, there are some things that have changed a lot (adding grandchildren and losing my mama) and some things that remain the same (the ongoing struggle to balance everyone’s needs and expectations with the reality of sorrow).
I still find the principles I outlined years ago to be the best way to approach the season. We certainly don’t always get it right but we continue to strive to honor one another, to honor the true meaning of Christmas and to honor Dominic.
❤ Melanie
How do I honor the child for whom memories are all I have and love well the children with whom I am still making memories?
That’s a question I ask myself often.
And it is especially difficult to answer for celebrations and holidays, special events and birthdays.
I’m thankful a day is set aside to focus on children’s grief because it’s so easy for their grief to be overlooked, underrated and even dismissed.
Grown ups often tout the line, “Kids are resilient. They will adapt.”
And while it’s true that from theOUTSIDEit might look like a child is OK or even thriving, on the INSIDE she may be curled up into a ball or he may be angry and resentful.
But it can feel oh, so lonely amidst the lights and the laughter when the one name you want most to be spoken aloud just isn’t.
So what are some practical ways to include our missing child in holiday celebrations?
I, and three other bereaved moms, together with Our Hearts are Home, shared thoughts and ideas on how to remember -in a tangible, physical way-our child during the holidays.
Two common themes tie them all together: (1)represent your child in a meaningful way that is authentic to who they are; and (2) help lead others into the knowledge that it is not only OK to talk about your child but downright joyful to hear it (even if it makes you cry).
Not every idea will suit every family but there is probably one (or more!) that you might find suit yours.
So here they are.
THANKSGIVING
Light a candle (real or battery powered) and put it in a prominent place or as part of a centerpiece. You can attach a lovely tag or put a picture next to it or somehow otherwise indicate that it is in honor of your child.
Memory candles of all sorts are available to order and ideas for making them are easily found online. They often have names and (if you want them) dates etched directly onto the candle or on a container designed to hold a candle.
Photographs are always wonderful. Some families set a place for their missing child or have a separate chair set aside to note their absence. Pictures can be placed on the table, on a side table next to a child’s favorite dish or in some other spot. It’s a Jewish tradition to include photos of all close family members gone before during Sukkot (a biblical holiday many feel is the precursor to our Thanksgiving) as a way to remember and honor ongoing ties and love
Cook your child’s favorite dish and put a note next to it that says so. Perhaps bring copies of the recipe or, if something that lends itself to this, prepare take home boxes with a serving or two for family members to relish and remember later. Mention to others sharing the meal that this is your child’s favorite and why. It’s a great way to encourage natural conversation.
Share why you are thankful for your missing child. This can be done in the context of offering thanks for other family members who have joined you and for those who are no longer present if you feel awkward or expect pushback from family members.
Provide a ceramic plate with your child’s name in the center and acrylic paint markers. Have family and friends write one word that they think of when they think of your child. Directions for curing the paint and making it permanent can be found online.
Donate a holiday meal in their honor through a local food bank or charity.
Watch a favorite movie or show and share memories of why it’s a favorite.
Create a memory table by asking guests to bring something that reminds them of your child. During your time together, ask the guest to share why they chose that item.
Create a Thanksgiving memory journal. Ask others to write a memory in it. You can add to it each year.
Do an act of kindness in their honor.
Share stories. One of the things I’ve learned is that if I don’t bring Dominic up and “give permission” to others, they often won’t either. Share about your child in Heaven just as you would one that is here on earth. Every family has a story about that “one Thanksgiving, so and so did…” .
Provide a family photo album of Thanksgivings past. These will naturally spark conversation about memories, about the lives and love of those no longer present and give bereaved parents a great opening to speak about their child.
Leave an empty chair or place setting.
Participate in a Thanksgiving walk or run in their honor. There are lots of 5Ks around this time of year and almost anyone can participate. Get a group, dress up honoring your child and (turkey) trot on!
You might just want to visit their grave or a special place that is meaningful to you.
Send thank you notes to those who were special to them or played a part in their lives. The first Thanksgiving after Dominic left for Heaven, I wrote notes to everyone I could think of who had shown up or helped our family in some way during those early days.
CHRISTMAS
Hang ornaments that represent your child. Some parents do a separate tree for their missing child (and some keep it up all year).
Hang your child’s stocking along with the others. You can write letters to your child and encourage other family members to add their own. You can ask family members to fill the stocking with gift cards that can be donated in your child’s name to a charity that represents his or her heart.
Volunteer to serve at one of the many organizations that need extra help this time of year.
Listen to favorite songs. It’s easy to make an entire dedicated playlist of songs that remind you of your child or are your child’s favorites.
Buy a gift they’d like and give it away. Many parents purchase gifts for a child who would be the same age as their child this year. You can get names from your local DHR or from churches or other organizations.
One family who draws names for Christmas asked family members to purchase a present that began with their daughter in Heaven’s first initial.
Adopt a family and provide Christmas for them in your child’s honor.
Make a memory chain for the tree. One mom said her daughter had family and friends write a memory on the strips and then put them together in a chain. It could be lengthened each year.
Purchase a poinsettia at church remembering your child.
Give an item that belonged to them to someone who would treasure it. This one can be hard because it’s difficult to release those physical objects our child last touched. But if/when you are ready, it can be a truly beautiful and special act of remembrance.
Make cookies for caregivers or others who helped during a prolonged illness or hospital stay. Make cookies for first responders in your own community.
Memory table runners are easy to purchase or make. Have guests write a favorite memory using permanent markers.
Make a story book of their life and display it where others can see it and enjoy it.
Make or purchase an ornament with their handwriting imprinted to give to family. Because Dominic left for Heaven when my other children were also leaving home, I have made or bought ornaments every year that represent our family and include names. Dominic’s is always included.
(Of course, you could do most of the things listed for Thanksgiving as well.)
I’ve written a lot about surviving the holidays after child loss and will be sharing many of those posts in the coming weeks.
But there are a few thoughts I want to leave you with that I pray provide some hope for any heart dreading the next seven weeks.
Soon after Dominic ran ahead to Heaven I realized all the trappings I associated with Thanksgiving and Christmas were not essential to the primary ideas embodied in both holidays.
Thanksgiving is about setting aside time to express gratitude to God for what He has done, is doing and will continue to do.
I can still manage that.
Christmas is a celebration of the Light coming into a dark world.
This broken heart can definitely get behind that any day.
So, in the end, if your heart cannot bear the thought of one more holly jolly song, one more hap-hap-happy get together, one more frenzied rush to the store for a forgotten present or pantry item—just choose to sit this one out.
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.
These days also stir great internal conflict: I want to enjoy and celebrate my living children and my family still here while missing my son that isn’t. Emotions run high and are, oh so difficult to manage.
So I’m including some ideas from other bereaved parents on how they’ve handled the holidays. Many of these suggestions could be adapted for any “special” day of the year.
Not all will appeal to everyone nor will they be appropriate for every family. But they are a place to start.
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.
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.
It’s tempting to try to hide our tears and fears from our living children and grandchildren.
Who wants to overload a young heart and mind with grown-up problems?
There is definitely a place and time to shelter little people-it’s never appropriate to offload onto small shoulders what we just don’t want to carry ourselves.
But it is neither helpful nor healthy to pretend that sorrow and sadness don’t follow loss.
thelifeididntchoose 