Folks Ask, “How ARE You Doing?” Some Days I Still Struggle.

I first shared this post all the way back in 2016.

Most people I knew had experienced my son’s death as a moment in time, a single event, a date on the calendar but for me and my family it was an ongoing event.

His absence continued to shape our lives in ways we couldn’t have imagined in the immediate aftermath of his accident.

Folks (meaning well but clueless) often began conversations with, “How are you doing?”.

What I really wanted to tell them was I had absolutely, positively NO IDEA but usually settled for, “As well as can be”.

Over ten years later I can say that most days are pretty good. I’ve learned to navigate the rocky territory of child loss and only rarely fall into a pit of despair.

Some days I’d still say that I don’t really know HOW I’m doing it-just that I AM doing it.

❤ Melanie

People see me, these years and months after Dominic left us and ask, “How are you doing?”

I come up with an answer because that’s the law of conversation-you ask something and I answer, then I ask something and you answer.

are-you-ok

Gotta keep that ball rolling.  

If it drops we are both forced to stand there wondering what to do with our bodies, our faces and our thoughts.

But right now, I don’t know HOW I’m doing.

Read the rest here: I Don’t Know How I’m Doing

Even If You’ve Heard It, I NEED to Tell the Story

I have so much more empathy for older folks since Dominic ran ahead to Heaven.

I’ve always tried to be a patient listener when hearing that same story over and over and over but have to admit that sometimes I’d drift off or internally mock an elder because I was tired of hearing it.

Not anymore.

Because I understand now that it’s in the telling that one both commemorates and honors people as well as the past.

Read the rest here: I Need To Tell The Story (Even If You’ve Heard It Before)

What a Sacred Privilege to Share a Burden!

When someone invites you in and serves up her deepest pain along with the coffee it might feel like a trap or a burden or a bother.

But it’s actually an act of great respect and trust.

Read the rest here: A Sacred Privilege

Spoon Theory and Grieving Parents

We like to think we are invincible, full of infinite energy and able to handle anything life may throw at us. It’s understandable considering Western society places a premium on heroic endurance in the face of adversity or challenge.

Truth is, though, our emotional, physical and mental energy are not infinite. We ALL have an absolute rock bottom where we simply cannot do one. more. thing.

And living with child loss means I exhaust my resources sooner than many.

I love this concrete representation of my limitations. It has helped me understand that it’s OK to say, “no” and it’s human to have to.

I hope it gives you courage to do the same. 

❤ Melanie

The basic idea is that everyone starts with a finite number of “spoons” representing the energy, attention and stamina that can be accessed for any given day. When you do something, you remove a spoon (or two or three) based on the effort required.  When you have used up all your spoons, you are operating at a deficit. 

Like a budget, you can only do that so long before you are in big trouble.

Read the rest here: Spoon Theory Applied to Bereavement

Some Practical Ideas From Other Parents for Navigating Holidays After Child Loss

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.

Read the rest here: Practical Ideas for Dealing with the Holidays after Child Loss

THIS is What the Bereaved Need From Friends and Family During Holidays

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

Can’t Stop Time: Here Come the Holidays

When I was forced into this life I didn’t choose, I had no model for how to navigate holidays post child loss. Not one Thanksgiving dinner nor Christmas morning of my life had been marred by the deep, dark MISSING that fills a bereaved parent’s heart.

So I muddled through, best I could, striving hard to embrace and accommodate my own and my family’s pain while managing expectations of those outside our immediate grief circle.

It was hard.

It was emotionally exhausting.

It still is, some days and seasons.

But if I’ve gained any wisdom from ten holiday seasons spent without Dominic, it’s this: Better to face it and make a plan than to ignore it and let things unfold willy-nilly.

I’m praying for you. Now. In October.

❤ Melanie

I will confess: I’m no better at this than the first set of holidays after Dominic ran ahead to Heaven.

Every. Single. Year. has brought changes and challenges on top of the empty chairs round the family table.

Since Dominic left us we’ve had additions (two grandchildren and various significant others) and sadly, more subtractions (my mother joined Dom in 2019). We’ve dealt with distance, deployment, healthcare and retail work schedules, a pandemic and lots of other, less easily defined tensions and difficulties.

Read the rest here: So…Yeah, The Holidays.

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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.

Eleven Practical (mostly easy) Ways To Help a Grieving Friend

It’s possible to stand frozen at the corner of good intentions and helpful action.

I’ve done it dozens of times.

And every time I’ve allowed myself to swallow “but I don’t know what to do” and done nothing I’ve regretted it.

Every. Single. Time.

So I’m here to tell you that when you get that urge, feel that itch, hear that still, small voice that says, “DO something“, then do it.

You may already have a good idea of what it is you need to do, but in case you don’t know exactly how to make a difference in the life of a heart hanging on by a thread, here are some things to get you started:

Read the rest here: Should I DO Something? Yes. Absolutely.

It’s SO Important for Me to Tell My Story. It’s SO Important That You Listen.

Every time I tell the story of Dominic, it helps to keep him real.

It reminds my heart that he lived, that he mattered, that he matters still.

And in the telling, I am giving away a little bit of him for another heart to carry. 

His light is passed to another soul that can pass it to another and another.

Read the rest here: Why We Have to Tell Our Stories & Why We Need Someone to Listen