I was absolutely overwhelmed in those first days.
Cars, cars, cars filled my long driveway and front yard.
People spilling out like ants scrambling after the hill is disturbed.
Oh, our hill was disturbed-knocked wide open by that deputy’s visit.
Read the rest here:Who Steps In? Who Walks Out?
I participate in a number of online support groups for bereaved parents.
And one topic that makes the rounds at least once a week-often once a day-is how those outside our experience cannot truly understand our experience.
Because it’s true-you THINK you can imagine the pain of child loss if you have children, but even the most vivid imagination can’t conjure the utter blackness that waits on the other side of hearing, “Your son is dead.”
There’s a great divide between me and those who have not experienced child loss.
But it’s one I hope they never have to cross.
Because it’s a mercy to not know.
If all of us could fathom the pain of losing a child, no one would bear children–the risk would be too great.
So while the gap can be a source of misunderstanding and isolation for ME, it is a safeguard for YOU.
And I am grateful for it. ❤
Earlier this week I participated in a “retreat” with Our Hearts Are Home-a ministry to bereaved parents and their families.
On the Zoom call were individuals active in their own communities and own ministries who also lend their time and talents to this one. Together we represent a cadre of bereaved parents who have chosen to come back with a torch to light the way of those still walking in the early days, weeks, months, YEARS of child loss.
It’s a privilege to work and walk beside them.
What I wanted to share today was this: Every one of these individuals is carrying their own burden of grief and loss, every one of them has a life outside ministry that includes family commitments, aging parents, growing children and grandchildren, work, church attendance and committee positions and just the everyday chores of living.
We are contacted via DM and text by newly bereaved parents all the time.
We have nonbereaved friends and family experiencing challenging life events. We have to negotiate holidays and family gatherings while respecting various people’s schedules and preferences.
We are administrators of closed Facebook groups and host book studies and write blogs.
We field phone calls and try to squeeze in workouts or walks, cooking and cleaning.
So when you are thinking about people to pray for, our “cause” may not be dramatic or life-threatening but our work is life giving and light sharing.
Consider adding us to your prayer list.
We’d be oh, so grateful!
**** If you’d like to learn more about the work I do at Heartache and Hope ministry, The Life I Didn’t Choose blog or partner with me through financial support, you can find out more through these links: http://heartacheandhope.org; http://thelifeididntchoose.com; http://square.link/u/cNen14Q1 ****
There have been a number of posts from different parents in our closed groups recently remarking on how difficult this journey continues to be even decades down the road.
From the outside looking in, folks think, “Well, they’ve had plenty of time to adapt”.
But what they don’t understand is that for a parent, it’s not only what we HAD that is missing, it’s what we thought we WOULD HAVE that we miss too.
So every Christmas, every New Year, every birthday, holiday and family celebration our child isn’t present is another “not there” we have to process and accept.
This grief truly is relentless.❤ Melanie
re·lent·less
adjective
opressively constant; incessant.
Synonyms: persistent, continuing, nonstop, never-ending, unabating, interminable, incessant, unceasing, endless, unremitting, unrelenting, unrelieved.
It took me a long time before I wanted to gather in a room with other bereaved parents.
My son’s death had undone me and I had no capacity for other people’s raw grief where I might not have an escape.
I wish I hadn’t been so reluctant and waited so long because what I found when I finally walked into the in-person community of other moms and dads who shared my loss, it was life giving, uplifting and utterly amazing.
So I want to extend an invitation to fellow broken hearts who hope for hope:
WHO? Bereaved parent & grandparents, and anyone who wants to better know how to comfort a grieving friend
WHAT? Our Hearts Are Home Spring Conference
WHEN? April 25-26, 2025
WHERE? Online or In Person
(If you can’t come on those days, you’ll receive all of the session recordings that remain available for two weeks following the conference.)
Read the session details and register at: https://ourheartsarehome.org/spring-conference
I’ll be sharing in a main sessions and participating in breakout sessions. AND there will be many opportunities to chat informally around meals and other unstructured times.
This is NOT your typical “Christian Conference” where what’s shared is memorized and rehashed in city after city. This is a unique opportunity to interact with parents who are walking the same broken road as you and are willing to reveal the ups and downs, ins and outs of navigating child loss. (My husband will be there too, bereaved dads!)
The cost is minimal although I know travel expenses may make attending in person out of the question for some of y’all. (Online option available!)
I would LOVE, LOVE, LOVE to meet (in the flesh!) anyone who has joined me here online.
You have no idea how often your words of encouragement have helped me hold onto hope.
So if you can, join us.
You may be nervous up to the very minute you show up or log on but I PROMISE you will not regret it.
See you there!
The holiday season is full of opportunities to gather with folks we don’t see all that often.
It’s also an invitation for those same friends and family to ask all the questions they’ve thought about on the other 364 days of they year but couldn’t ask.
And sometimes those questions are difficult, or insensitive or inappropriate.
What to do? What to say?
Here are some great answers from other bereaved parents.
❤ Melanie
I was utterly amazed at the questions people plied me with not long after Dominic’s accident.
They ranged from digging for details about what happened (when we ourselves were still unsure) to ridiculous requests for when I’d be returning to my previous responsibilities in a local ministry.
Since then, many of my bereaved parent friends have shared even more questions that have been lobbed at them across tables, across rooms and in the grocery store.
Recently there was a post in our group that generated so many excellent answers to these kinds of questions, I asked permission to reprint them here (without names, of course!).
So here they are, good answers to hard (or inappropriate or just plain ridiculous) questions:
Read the rest here: Good Answers to Hard (Insensitive, Inappropriate) Questions
It’s popular in books, self-help articles and even in some grief groups for people to declare , “Child loss does not (will not, should not) define me”.
And while I will defend to the end another parent’s right to walk this path however seems best and most healing to him or her, to that statement I say, “Bah! Humbug!”
Child loss DOES define me.
It defines me in the same way that motherhood and marriage define me.
Read the rest here: Child Loss DOES Define Me
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.
Read the rest here: Surviving Siblings and Christmas
Spending holidays with friends and family while grieving is hard. No one is really comfortable-neither the bereaved nor those hosting them.
But there are ways to welcome grief to your table, to pave the way for the broken and bruised to join you, if they are able.
Here’s something that’s been going around social media circles this holiday season and offers advice on hosting the bereaved this Christmas.
❤ Melanie
Holiday Host Etiquette by Sarah Nannen
(Emphasis and paragraphs added)
“If you’re inviting someone to your home and they’re grieving, be sure you’re inviting their grief to attend, too. It will be there, anyway.
Read the rest here: Inviting Grief to the Table: Holiday Host Etiquette
People say, “I can’t imagine.“
But then they do.
They think that missing a dead child is like missing your kid at college or on the mission field but harder and longer.
That’s not it at all.
Read the rest here: What Grieving Parents Want Others to Know
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