We all know how it is-you move, you lose an address or phone number, you lose touch.
But sometimes friendships end more abruptly-not because lives drifted apart but because one person became so uncomfortable she chose to walk the other way.
That’s what happens so often the other side of child loss. Friends disappear because loss makes them profoundly uncomfortable.
Read the rest here: HELP WANTED: Why Grievers Need Faithful Friends
Every family is different. Every loss experience is unique.
Some of us have busy households when one of our children leave for Heaven and some of us are long past full tables and messy teen bedrooms.
Wherever we find ourselves when the unthinkable overtakes us, it’s always hard to continue doing daily tasks bearing a burden of sorrow. So often we settle into a pattern of striving and straining through the deep mire of grief without making time for rest.
I know I did.
Goodness! I still experience seasons when grief waves steal what little breath is left from a breathless and busy life and I can barely function.
It’s then I remind my heart that self care isn’t selfish. It’s necessary.
Absolutely, positively necessary.
❤ Melanie
Looking back I’m shocked at how much I allowed societal norms and expectations to determine how I grieved Dominic’s death.
I withheld grace from myself that I would have gladly and freely given to another heart who just buried a child. Somehow I thought I had to soldier on in spite of the unbearable sorrow, pain, horror and worldview shattering loss I was enduring.
And the further I got from the date of his accident, the more I expected from myself.
Read the rest here: Self Care in Grief
We think people live to the fullness of years. They begin in spring and pass through all the seasons before the cold winter claims them.
But some survive only one season, or two–never enjoying the fruitful harvest of the latter years the younger years of hard work are meant to produce.
Read the rest here: Falling Leaves
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
I’ve written before about how I choose to leave some things just as Dominic left them-even over eight years later.
It’s my way of maintaining physical space in our home that represents the space in my heart where only he can fit.
It’s also more than that.
As time progresses, nearly every other tangible evidence that Dominic existed is being worn away.
Read the rest here: And The Gap Grows: Trying To Remember In a World That Forgets
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
Father, I have stopped asking for miracles.
My wounded heart has lost the faith it once had for hoping You might step in and make something out of nothing.
I still believe in YOU. I still hope in YOU.
Read the rest here: A Prayer For Mercy and Grace
Since Dominic ran ahead I collect poems, sayings and quotes that help my heart put words to what it feels.
I consider each one a gift.
This is a beautiful, traditional Jewish blessing often shared with mourners.
Read the rest here: We Remember Them
I mentioned yesterday that I’d be spending the weekend at a retreat with other bereaved moms.
I chose the theme, “Broken into Beautiful, because I believe with my whole heart there is no yin/yang dual universe where darkness has power enough to overcome the light. Sin mars creation and wreaks havoc but even all that awful is being woven together into a tapestry of beauty and usefulness that one day will display the glory of God and His love for us.
I also believe that one must make a choice to invite God to transform pain into purpose through His comfort, hope, strength and grace.
So we are settling in this morning with our coffee, Bibles, journals and sweet, sweet time to read about, talk about and digest the promises of God in Christ that can lead us faithfully through the Valley of the Shadow of Death.
We will be exploring prayer-choosing to engage even when we don’t have anything to say and don’t want to listen; perspective-learning to trust truth over feelings; perseverance-doing the next right thing no matter how long the journey; and purpose-sharing our stories for the good of others and to the glory of God.
We will chat over meals and craft times (even for the non-crafty!).
We’ve got a jig saw puzzle going.
We will enjoy afternoon walks on dirt roads, evening campfires and plenty of time to pray with one another in quiet corners.
Every time I gather with moms in these intimate settings, I’m amazed by how the Spirit moves and hearts receive some measure of healing.
I can’t wait to see what He does in us this weekend.
Today, five other bereaved moms will join me for a weekend retreat where we will share our stories, our children, laughter and tears.
Each of us brings something unique to the experience and each of us will walk away with something different to ponder in our hearts.But one of the things I’ve discovered over and over when bereaved parents get together is this: we ALL still (even after years, decades) need affirmation that what we are feeling, thinking and struggling with is absolutely, positively normal.
❤ Melanie
Do you want to know one of the most repeated questions in grief support groups?
It is, “Am I normal?”
In the midst of great loss,
in the middle of reconstructing a life that includes a giant hole,
while struggling to place one foot in front of the other,
parents who have buried a child are often worried about whether what they feel and how they act is “normal”.
Grieving a child is a complex and life-long process as I wrote about here: Am I Normal?
thelifeididntchoose 