You Might Not Get a “Thank You” Card

I grew up in the South with a mama who was extremely concerned with fulfilling every social nicety and especially NEVER neglecting to send a “thank you” card to anyone who deserved one.

I wrote out my own appreciations between Christmas and New Year’s each holiday season from the time I was old enough to know how to address an envelope.

There was never an acceptable excuse for not doing it.

So I understand the folks whose own tradition, upbringing and lifestyle demand every kindness, gift, meal brought or other act of service demands written and postage paid acknowledgement.

But please stop waiting for one from your friend or family member who buried their child!

Several times in the past week I’ve had to counsel and console bereaved parents who have been chided, embarrassed, called out in public or shamed in private for not sending notes of gratitude.

It is unrealistic to expect a grieving parent to have the emotional or mental bandwidth to sit down and compose such things when they are probably having trouble writing a grocery list and brushing their teeth.

No one who hasn’t experienced child loss can imagine how difficult it is to leave a funeral or memorial service knowing that for most people it’s over when for t us it’s just beginning.

Child loss changes EVERYTHING.

We come back to a house that no longer feels like home. Our family has been reshaped in ways we can’t recognize and don’t know how to relate to. If there are other children, we are trying our best to help them navigate their own grief. Marriages are rocked and every weak spot exposed.

Some end.

For those who must return to work, it’s necessary to find some way to muster the energy and attention to do whatever our job demands all the while fighting an internal wellspring of emotion that threatens to undo us any moment. Bills have to be paid. Estates (yes, even for very young children, depending on the circumstances) must be managed. Dozens of times we are forced to make phone calls and say, “My son is deceased, I need to do XYZ on his behalf”.

Mental, physical, emotional and spiritual exhaustion is our constant companion.

Most parents would LOVE to have a moment when they could thank those who helped in the immediate aftermath, who sent flowers, food or a card to encourage them.

But they don’t.

I managed to send about twenty notes within the first month to a few folks who were exceptionally close to our family. The rest waited until November when I used Thanksgiving as a natural moment to express my feelings. I know I overlooked some people and I’ve never tried to make my efforts more complete. I am unusual but writing comes fairly natural to me.

Many parents just cannot do it.

So if you are tempted to confront a bereaved parent because you or someone you represent hasn’t gotten a card in the mail, just don’t. And for goodness sakes, do NOT whisper or text behind their back!

I hope you offered your original help or gift with grace and a heart tuned toward compassion. If you didn’t, then shame on you. If you did, then you shouldn’t mind not having a formal acknowledgement.

You have the great blessing of remaining ignorant of what it feels like to send a child to Heaven before you.

That should be enough.

More Than Anything I Just Want to Be Me

I first shared this post in 2018 when I was approaching the four year milestone of Dominic’s leaving for Heaven.

By that time most folks who knew me when he died had relegated that part of my story to some ancient past that surely I was over by now. I’d met others who had no clue my heart skipped a beat on a regular basis because one of my children was buried in the churchyard down the road.

And even the closest ones-the ones I thought would understand forever-were sometimes impatient with my ongoing refusal to leave Dominic behind and be “healed” of my grief.

I was reminded of it recently when several bereaved parents shared some painful grief attacks suffered around the holidays even though it has been years or even decades since their child ran ahead to Heaven.

Truth is, I will never be fully healed on earth from the awful wound of child loss. I continue to be subject to the sharp stab of missing and longing that drags my heart back to the first devastating moment.

And when that happens, I can’t fake it.

What I long for more than anything as the tenth anniversary of his departure draws near is simply this: Let me be me, whatever that looks like.

So please don’t try to fit my journey into your mold. 

❤ Melanie

Even in the very first hours after the news, my brain began instructing my heart, “Now, try to be brave.  Try not to disappoint people.  Try to say the right thing, do the right thing and be the example you should be.”

Whatever that meant.

Read the rest here: Can I Just Be Me?

Word Of The Year 2024

It’s kind of funny that a new calendar and a new year prompt folks who’ve been perfectly content to coast through the old one to make bold declarations of change. 

I suppose it is the nature of humans to pause at the threshold and think crossing over means something more than a single footstep. 

I’m tempted to join in from time to time myself.

The thing that stops me is a fundamental understanding that no matter what prayers, proclamations or promises we lift, declare or make to ourselves or others, time has a way of unraveling them all. 

Still, when I began to see social media prompts to “pick a word” for 2024, I actually entertained it for a few seconds. 

Instead of inspirational words like “perseverance”, “joy”, “presence”, “love”, etcetera, the only word that came to my mind was “boundaries”. Which sounds kind of selfish and not all that aspirational. 

I think it probably springs from a place deep inside my soul.

A place I don’t often explore and even more rarely pay attention to. But a place I probably (definitely!) need to listen to and take seriously. 

I have joked since turning sixty that if someone wants to mess with me “they picked the wrong decade!”. 

Easier said than done. 

A lifetime of bending over backwards (the name of my imaginary yoga studio) has bent my heart, life and personality toward giving in and giving up. Child loss took so much out of me that what was a tendency BEFORE is practically a policy AFTER. 

Too often it’s too much trouble to try to explain why I need space, time, love, attention and just common courtesy. So I stuff, stuff, stuff and do whatever someone asks regardless of how much it costs in terms of time, effort or energy. 

I’m trying to learn how to say (without being snarky) I don’t think I can meet a person’s expectations. I’m trying to learn how to take up space and quit shrinking into a corner. 

I won’t lie. 

It’s hard. 

And I’ve been met with resistance. 

But this year I’m determined to make it stick.  

2024: Reflections on a New Year

I saw a cute meme on social media that said, “No one claim 2024 as THEIR year”. It made me laugh. But I get it.

I begin every January thinking that THIS year things will be more manageable, things will be brighter, easier (even a little?), somehow more predictable and enjoyable instead of just survivable. But, sure enough, February comes along and knocks those fool notions right out of my head.

My life is not one disaster after another. In fact, on a global scale my life is quite lovely. But it’s consistently filled with challenges and more-than-challenges that force me to recalibrate and adjust my sails to meet the gale force winds.

I first shared this a couple years ago and find it just as appropriate for the first day of 2024. I’m not making broad predictions, proclamations or resolutions.

I just plan to take things one day at a time.

❤ Melanie

This year has been challenging in ways I could never have imagined nor anticipated. It’s been that way for many of us I think.

Communal grief, pain and loss have wrapped themselves around the unique grief, pain and loss of hearts everywhere.

Definitely plenty to give a person pause.

And while I do believe it’s a good thing to reflect every so often I’m not certain it has to be on the same date every year.

Read the rest here: New Year Reflections

Facing a New Year: A Prayer for Hurting Hearts

Some of us enter trembling through the door of a new year. 

This last year wasn’t so good and our hearts are broken.

What if the next year is worse?  How will we manage?  Where can we hide from bad news, bad outcomes, disastrous trauma?

Truth is, we can’t.  

So here we are, bravely marching in, hanging on to hope and begging God for mercy.  

Read the rest here: New Year’s Prayer for Hurting Hearts

I’ll Never Forget: Auld Lang Syne

We don’t know what tomorrow will bring.  We plot and plan and hope and dream but in the end we have very little control over how our story ultimately plays out.

So we are left each New Year’s Eve with some good memories, some not so good ones and some we cling to like gold from a treasure chest because they are all we have.

Should auld acquaintance be forgot and days of auld lang syne?

Never. 

Read the rest here: New Year’s Eve and Auld Lang Syne

Holidays 2023: Emotional Overload

There are so many ways child loss impacts relationships!

Some of the people you think will stand beside you for the long haul either never show up or disappear right after the funeral.

Some people you never expected to hang around not only come running but choose to stay.

And every. single. relationship. gets more complicated.  

When your heart is shattered, there are lots of sharp edges that end up cutting you and everyone around you.  It is pretty much inevitable that one or more relationships will need mending at some point.

Read the rest here: Emotional Overload and T.M.I.

Holidays 2023: Wife, Mother, Daughter, Sister, Friend

It would be helpful if the world could just stop for a day or a week (or a year!) when your heart is shattered by the news that one of the children you birthed into this world has suddenly left it.

But it doesn’t.

And immediately all the roles I have played for decades are overlaid by a new role:  bereaved mother.  Except instead of being definitive or even descriptive, this role is more like a foggy blanket that obscures and disorients me as I struggle to fulfill all the roles to which I’ve become accustomed.

Read the rest here: Wife, Mother, Daughter, Sister, Friend

Holidays 2023: Grief Can Sneak Up On You

In the daylight

In the dark

In my dreams

Things creep in at the corner of my vision

Or sounds slip in unnoticed

Until my brain puts them together and screams, “Oh no!”.

Read the rest here: Swallowing Panic

Christmas 2023: Post-Holiday Blues

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.

Image result for grief anniversaries

Read the rest here: Post Holiday Blues: When The Grief Comes Crashing Down