Category: grief anniversaries

Ambushed by Grief

So today I kissed a piece of paper Dominic wrote around 2003 or 2004. It was sacred to touch what he once touched.

I kept repeating, “I love you. I love you.”

It isn’t much but it’s all I have left.



I was tidying up some things I’ve been lazy about in anticipation of my dad’s second knee replacement surgery next week. There was a pile of cards and miscellaneous papers that my cats had knocked down from what I thought was a safe perch.

I gathered them up, looking, as always, for any hint of Dominic’s distinctive handwriting.

And there it was. His goals for some forgotten year when I had made the children write them down.

It was SO him. They were complete with illustrations.



I know folks want to hear the triumphant victory of faith over grief. And some days that is my testimony.

Some days I am able to lean in, take hold of hope and declare the goodness of God.

But some days-or some moments– my mama heart cries out for the physical presence of the child I carried, the child I fed at my breast and the child I nurtured until he grew into a man.

There’s no cure for that.

You just have to let the sadness and longing wash over you. The tears must fall.

I’m sure tomorrow will be a better day.

Today I’m just waiting for night to fall and sleep to come. ❤

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

Won’t Pretend: Ain’t Nothing Easy About Death

I wrote this post four years ago after my mother joined Dominic in Heaven. Her passing reminded me once again (as if my heart needed reminding!) that there ain’t nothing easy about death.

Four years later and I’m no more willing to pretend it’s anything but awful even as I’m resigned to admit there’s nothing I can do about it.

I miss you both so very much.

❤

I remember the moment I realized I was going to have to summarize my son’s life into a few, relatively short paragraphs to be read by friends, family and strangers.

It seemed impossible.

But as the designated author of our family I had to do it so I did.

Today I wrote my mama’s obituary and though her death was not as surprising as Dominic’s it was just as hard to swallow.

Read the rest here: Ain’t Nothing Easy About Death

Reminders That Life is Fleeting

When children are young and growing every birthday is a celebration. And it absolutely should be!

But when you’ve walked a few (0r more than a few!) years on this old world, birthdays begin to morph into something else.

They remind a heart that life is short, that not all of the people we love will enjoy fullness of years and even those that do seem to leave us way too soon.

Birthdays-after precious people have run ahead to Heaven-mark one more year without them.

Instead of cake and balloons, flowers and presents, we sit with silence and absence, memories and wishes for more time…❤

Today my heart hurts more than usual.

It’s my mama’s birthday-the fourth one we will celebrate without her here to blow out the candles.

It’s also the fourth anniversary (do you call it that?) of the day Papa had to call an ambulance to rush her to the hospital.

She never came home.

Read the rest here: Birthdays and Wakeful Nights

116 Months…

I’ll be honest, after nine years I’m not counting months anymore.

But I did.

Just like when my sweet little brown haired baby came home from the hospital and I marked every exciting milestone as we marched toward his first birthday.

The months I counted after he left so suddenly weren’t happy celebrations, they were mournful reminders he was missing and would BE missing for as long as it took for me to join him.

Thankfully, the twelfth isn’t a stab in the heart like it once was.

I do still stop and allow myself to feel the deep ache of wanting a hug and a long talk.

Now, though, I can also take a moment to remember the beauty of Dom’s life not just the pain of his death.

2016: Twelve Things I Love to Remember

It rolls around every month-the twelfth-that glaring reminder that on this day “x” number of months ago, I woke to the news Dominic was never coming home again.

This month is 28.  Twenty-eight months-more than 28 moon cycles-over two years.

I don’t cry all day on this monthly reminder anymore-although I used to. And I have tried various ways to redeem it.

This month I decided to share twelve things I love to remember about Dominic. Maybe some things even his good friends didn’t know:

Read the rest here: Twelve Things I Love to Remember

2017: It’s Never Too Late to Be a Friend!

We’ve all been there-something traumatic or earth-shattering happens to someone we know and we mean to get in touch.  

I put “write a note” or “call” on my list and then don’t do it.

Days, weeks months pass by.  Now I feel awkward.

And the need to let her know I care is overshadowed by my sense of shame at not doing it sooner.

Read the rest here: It’s Never Too Late to be a Friend!

2019: The One I Run To

When I read the Psalms I hear human voices.

I hear real people living real lives facing real problems.

Life and death and celebration and devastation-all laid bare for the ages.

They give me courage to speak plainly to God.

They help me frame my own struggles in the context of who God is and not only what I feel.

Read the rest here: Scripture Journal Challenge: The One I Run To

Bereaved Parents Month 2023: Surviving Grief Anniversaries

I know I’m not the only one who carries a calendar in my head that threatens to explode like a ticking timebomb.  Days that mean nothing to anyone else loom large as they approach.

The date of his death.

The date of his funeral.

His birthday.

My birthday.

The day he should have graduated from law school.

On and on and on.

How can I survive these oppressive reminders of what I thought my life would look like? How can I grab hold of something, anything that will keep my heart and mind from falling down the rabbit hole of grief into a topsy-turvy land where nothing makes sense and it’s full of unfriendly creatures that threaten to gobble me whole?

Read the rest here: Surviving Grief Anniversaries

Thirty-Nine Years and Counting

Today is thirty-nine years since we said, “I do” and had absolutely NO idea what that would look like.

I first shared this a few years ago on our anniversary because I wanted other bereaved parents to know that while it is hard (and isn’t marriage always hard?), it is not impossible for a marriage to survive child loss.

We are definitely not the perfect couple. We fuss and we struggle. We sometimes retreat into our own separate worlds as we process some new aspect of living this earthly life without one of our children.

But we have learned that we are stronger together and that we are willing to do the work necessary to stay that way.❤

Today my husband and I celebrate 39 years of marriage.  

Our thirtieth anniversary was a mere two months after we buried our son.

Here’s the last “before” anniversary photo (2013)-unfeigned smiles, genuine joy, excitement to have made it that far:

hector and me 29 anniversary

Read the rest here: Dispelling Marriage Myths Surrounding Child Loss.

Still At a Loss for Words…

Today is Dominic’s birthday. He would have been thirty-three if he lived.

I find as the years roll by it becomes increasingly difficult to “age” the person I last saw into the person he might have become. Oh, I can guess-but that’s hardly worth doing since we all know life rarely follows a straight path.

And that’s what defies language and steals my breath. On milestone days especially, I’m not only mourning what I have lost but also what I will never know.

❤

It would surprise my mama most of all that on this day I’m at a loss for words.

I regularly embarrassed her with my non-stop commentary as a child. I told stories about what I heard and saw (and what my young mind THOUGHT it heard or saw) to anyone who would listen.

But I realize now there are moments too sacred, wounds too deep, experiences too precious for words.

Either you are there and share it-or you’re not-and can’t imagine.

This is one of those times.

Dominic would be thirty-three years old today if he had lived.

Read the rest here: At A Loss For Words: Another Birthday Without You

I Am Changed For Life

I wrote this six years ago but it still speaks my heart.❤

Melanie

I will not get used to the fact that my son is beyond my reach.  I have come to a certain acceptance of it as fact, and acknowledgement of the truth that I cannot change that fact.

The pain hasn’t become less painful, only more familiar.  It doesn’t surprise me as often when it pricks my heart anew.

The world goes on.

Read the rest here: True Truth

Anyone Have Birthday Ideas?

It will be Dominic’s thirty-third birthday in a few days and even though this is the tenth (!) one I’ve had to mark without his earthly companionship, I’m no better at it.

I just do not know HOW I’m supposed to honor and celebrate him today when I really can’t imagine who he would be or what new interests he might have picked up along the way.

I do know I miss him like crazy.

And while this aging mama often has to start with her oldest to figure everyone’s current age, it doesn’t hurt any less when I skip count past Dom to my youngest son who many years ago surpassed him in earthly years.

I hate that.

❤ Melanie

Some folks are great at it.

They find a tagline or a cause or even a certain color and it becomes shorthand for remembering and honoring their missing child.

Me, not so much.

Dominic wasn’t the kind of person you could sum up in a few words or a certain favorite anything.

Read the rest here: Birthday Ideas? Anyone?