Category: children

What Bereaved Parents Need From Extended Family

I get it-you have no clue what it’s like to say good-bye to a life you’ve birthed and fully expected to outlast your own.

I don’t even imagine you can understand because I’m living it and still trying to figure it out.

But there are some things you can do to help me walk this awful and unfathomably painful path.

Please, please, please know that my child is STILL my child. He is still counted in our family’s number. She remains one of the nieces and one of the grandchildren when we diagram our family tree.

So when you talk to others or tally numbers don’t exclude them.

My last earthly child is not an “only child”. Our mother doesn’t just have “one grandson”.

I need you to say his name! I long for you to share a beloved memory without choking out the details like it’s a chore instead of a privilege.

Can we make space for tears and joy in our family celebrations?

Could you message me privately before announcing the joyous news YOUR earthbound child is getting married or having a child so I can prepare my heart for the onslaught of “congratulations” posted across social media?

It’s not that I envy (well, maybe a little) your life.

It’s just that you can’t fathom mine.

I didn’t just lose my child once at a single point in time. I lose him again every time there is a milestone or celebration or moment when he SHOULD be there but isn’t.

I’m not asking you to walk on eggshells. That’s unfair and unfruitful.

I AM asking you to learn a new way of speaking about my child in Heaven.

He still exists.

He still matters.

He’s still very much a part of our family AND yours.

Routine Can Wear You Down. Hang In There.

It may not be this way around the country or around the world, but here in Alabama school has been in session for several weeks and the hot weather along with added commitments makes life a little harder.  

After the excitement of posting “first day” photos wears off, routine sets in.

Carpools, music lessons, homework, getting everyone ready to rush out the door...it’s enough to wear anyone down.  

That’s when it’s easy to lose sight of what’s important.  That’s when the enemy whispers, “You don’t make a difference.”

He’s wrong.  

You are shepherding eternal souls. 

Don’t give up!

The tyranny of the urgent can push what’s important past the fringes of our attention.

Our vision can be so consumed with the day-to-day until there’s no space for long-term goals or ambitions.

But God has ordained that our children, eternal beings, be set in families.

 Read the rest here: Sowing in Tears, Reaping in Joy

Grief Journey: Mind the Gap

I think often about the things my children know that others don’t have to know.

The fact that life is precious, short and never guaranteed no matter how young or healthy you may be.

The reality that doing everything right or keeping your nose clean or staying “prayed up” doesn’t guarantee you’ll be spared from death, destruction or devastation.

It’s true that several generations ago folks grew up knowing all these things as a matter of course. But we’ve forgotten so much of this with antibiotics, life extending interventions, emergency medicine and abundant food, water and other resources.

I never interact with my earthbound kids without thinking about all the ways we are changed because death has invaded our home and our lives.

❤ Melanie

My youngest son worked hard to retrieve some precious digital photos from an old laptop.

Being very kind, he didn’t tell me that we might have lost them until he was certain he had figured out a way to get them back.

So he and I had a trip down memory lane the other evening.

It was a bumpy ride.

Read the rest here: Mind the Gap

Grief Journey: Please Be Patient With Me

Thankfully for most parents graduation isn’t really an end.  It marks a transition and perhaps growing geographical distance, but the relationship will continue.

Your child may be harder to reach, but they are not utterly beyond your reach.

You might stand at the doorway of their empty room and wonder when they might come home for a visit and wake up under your roof again, but they WILL come home for a visit.

I’m not diminishing the very real sense of loss parents feel when the child they have nurtured begins a life apart.

But some of us face something harder.

My child is utterly unreachable.

Read the rest here: Please Be Patient With Me

Grief Journey: Please Be Patient With Me

I wrote this a few years ago in response to post after post across social media of (mostly!) moms lamenting the fact their son or daughter would soon be moving away or off to college. 

I get it!  

When you are used to having your kid around it’s tough when he or she leaves the nest.  

But there is a vast difference in having to work a little harder to stay in contact or arrange visits and never being able to speak to your child again. 

It’s an adjustment to compare calendars to find a day your family can celebrate together but it’s heartbreaking to know that one chair will always be empty at every family gathering.  

Read the rest here:  Please Be Patient With Me

Mother’s Day 2024: From the Child Not Here on Mother’s Day

I post this around Mother’s Day every year since my daughter, Fiona, wrote it in the voice of her brother who is in Heaven.

It helps my heart sort the mixed emotions that this day stirs up.

I’m not ONLY a bereaved mother. I’m a mother and grandmother of earthbound children too.

I’m grateful for all of them. So very, very grateful.

❤ Melanie

My daughter, Fiona, wrote this several years ago, in the voice of her brother who ran ahead to heaven.    

I am so thankful for her and so sorry that she has gained this wisdom at great cost.

Some of the bravest, most loving women I know are those who have suffered one of life’s greatest losses. I hope you know how truly beautiful you are. 

“Dear Mom,

Read the rest here: From The Child Not Here on Mother’s Day.

Mother’s Day 2024: A Letter to My Living Children*

I shared this for the first time seven years ago.

Before my mother’s illness and death, before the frighteningly early arrival of our little Captain and the less-frightening and less early arrival of his brother, LT, before an overseas deployment, a destructive hurricane, Covid19, and too many other stressful events to list.

I have watched my kids meet every challenge-sometimes with grace, sometimes with grit, sometimes with both.

They are different people than they would have been if Dominic still walked beside us. They know things their peers can’t even guess.

We all lost so much when we lost Dom. But we still have each other.

And that’s a treasure.❤

I never thought it possible to love you more than I already did.

But I do.

Your brother’s untimely departure has opened my heart in a whole new way to the glory that is your presence.  It has made me drink you in like water in the desert.

Read the rest here:  A Letter To My Living Children*

Mother’s Day 2024: A Peek into This Mama’s Thoughts

I know how tender these days are for bereaved moms leading up to the corporate outpouring of love and admiration for mothers.

It’s a blessing and a curse for those of us who have one or more children in Heaven.

A precious opportunity to remember the joy and beauty of holding and loving a child of our heart but also a reminder that one is no longer within arm’s length.

It’s OK (MORE than OK) if this week is punctuated by smiles and tears.

It’s perfectly normal to have moments when grief overtakes you followed by moments of admiration and thanksgiving for the child or children still here.

It’s just how it is.

❤ Melanie

Ninety miles an hour-that’s how fast my mind can go from here to there.

From what’s in front of me to what’s behind me.

From laughter to swallowing sobs.

We sit in a living room surrounded by toys and playing with children, talking about life and love and plans and people.  The little brown face that turns his eyes to mine looks so much like Dominic I have to suck in my breath.

Giggles.  Squeals.  Cars running up and down my arm and around my feet.

I will never see Dominic’s children. 

Read the rest here: A Peek Inside a Grieving Mother’s Thoughts

Oh, Sweet Mama! Your Child Matters.

I know many who read this blog belong to closed online bereavement groups.

That’s a beautiful thing- a place where we can share our pain with others who understand it in a judgement-free zone.

child-and-mama-heart-together

We often post photos and our child(ren)’s story in the closed groups.

But today I want to take a moment to provide a public forum for anyone who wishes to take advantage of it.

Read the rest here: Your Child Matters

Ten Years, Sigh…

The calendar is relentless. There’s no respect for seasons of mourning or grief anniversaries or weeks of sickness or unexpected early births of grandchildren.

The sun rises, the sun sets and another day is crossed off into history.

So somehow-without my permission-I find I’ve woken to mark the tenth anniversary (do you call such a horrible thing an anniversary?) of Dominic’s death.

It’s humbling to realize I (and my family!) are not only still standing but flourishing. It’s horrifying to comprehend I’ve continued to live and breathe for 3285 days since Dominic left us.

Most days are pretty good.

Today is hard.

❤ Melanie

When the numbness wore off (maybe around six months) I remember vaguely wondering what years down the road would feel like.

I tried to project the “me” of that moment into the future and imagine how I might deal with life changes, new circumstances, an empty nest, grandchildren (if there were any) and growing older alongside the heartache of burying a child.

But just as it’s impossible to comprehend how the addition of a child utterly transforms a family, it’s impossible to understand how the subtraction of one changes everything just as much.

We are all so very different than we would have been if Dominic were still here.

Life most likely wouldn’t be any more perfect because we would each grow and change, find common ground and find points of conflict, make new memories and drag up old hurts.

Still, none of us would carry the deep wound and traumatic injury of sudden and out-of-order death.

THAT is impossible to ignore. Even ten years later it’s a red flag, a sticky note, an addendum to every family gathering and holiday.

So we carry on.

Like generations before us who have walked this world dragging loss behind them, we keep going. It shapes us but doesn’t limit us. It informs our views but isn’t the only thing that molds our opinions and frames our choices.

My faith in God’s larger and perfect plan helps me hold onto hope even as I continue to miss my son.

But today is a hard day and I don’t think that’s going to change as long as I live.

I’m getting better at remembering Dominic’s birthday in ways that honor who he is and the man he might have become. I can’t say I’ve figured out any good way to walk through the yearly unavoidable and unwelcome reminder of the day he left us.

I’m learning to allow the grief waves to simply wash over me without resisting them.

Eventually the hours tick away, the day is over and I find I’ve survived yet again. 

❤