These years since Dominic ran ahead to heaven feel like instrument flying.
I’m in the clouds.
The landmarks I’ve used for navigation all my life are obscured and sometimes I can’t even tell if I’m upside down or right side up. I don’t know if I’m going fast enough to stay in the air or if I’m about to stall. I’m tempted to use my feelings to determine true north and to decide on a course of action.
But I know if I do, I’m likely to crash.
Read the rest here: Flying Lessons
International Bereaved Mother’s Day is observed the Sunday before Mother’s Day in the United States. This year it’s next Sunday, May 5, 2024.
I didn’t even know such a day existed until I was a mom that needed it.
For those of us who have children in heaven, setting aside a day to acknowledge that unique mother/child relationship is helpful.
Read the rest here: International Bereaved Mother’s Day
It’s different for every heart.
But each of us who know child loss have a season of grief.
It’s so much more than “just” the day our child left for Heaven.
For me, it starts in November and runs through the end of May-fully half of
every.
single.
year.
Read the rest here: Season of Grief: How a Heart Marks the Days
I used to look at tombstones in cemeteries and do the math between the dates.
I was most focused on how long this person or that person walked the earth.
I still do that sometimes. But now I do something else as well.
I look to the left and the right to see if the person who ran ahead left parents behind. My eye is drawn to the solitary stones with the same last name next to a double monument clearly honoring a married pair.
And then I do a different kind of math.
I count the years between the last breath of the child and the last breath of his or her mama.
Because while that first date marked an end for everyone else, for the mama, it marked the beginning of the rest of her life- a life she never imagined nor would have chosen.
Read the rest here: For You, a Moment; For Me, a Lifetime
It may seem like the easiest way to get an inside scoop on how I’m REALLY doing-but don’t do it.
Please don’t ask my kids how I’m doing.
Respect the fact that they have their own grief burden. Respect family privacy and understand you are putting them in an impossible position.
Read the rest here: Please Don’t Ask My Kids How I Am Doing
Loss is not a single event.
That’s especially true for child loss.
We carry, birth and raise children expecting them to outlive US not that we will outlive THEM.
From the first cute bow in her hair or his first awkward toss of a football, we begin to dream of where time, talent and hard work might take these little ones.
So when death cruelly robs our hearts not only of the physical company of our child but also of the dreams we had for him or her, it’s more than a double blow.
Because we cannot escape all the reminders that blaze across our social media feeds or the advertisements shouting at us screaming, “He will never wed!” or “She will never graduate!”.
So if you are struggling, you’re not alone.
❤ Melanie
Almost anyone you ask anticipates that Thanksgiving and Christmas, two family-centered holidays, are difficult days and seasons for bereaved parents.
And they are.
Especially for families that enjoyed special times around the table, unhurried visits reminiscing about years past and traditions that reinforce the unique heritage of their shared history.
But this time of year is also challenging for me and many other parents who have lost a child.
Read the rest here: Graduations and Weddings and Trips, Oh My!
So much of the “faith” handed down today through Sunday School lessons and sermons is one that simply doesn’t leave room for mystery or for doubt or, honestly, for many of the actual Bible stories if you read them straight from the Book and not get them second hand from a loose retelling .
Jesus Himself-the exact representation of the Father (Hebrews 1:3)-didn’t greet skeptics with absolute proof. He pointed to the work He was doing, the truth He was telling and the miracles He performed but He left it to the audience to decide if that qualified Him as the Christ.
Yet we treat those who bring questions to the table of grace at best as immature and at worst as apostates or faithless wannabes.
Read the rest here: The Opposite of Faith Isn’t Doubt
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?
Even therapists get it wrong sometimes.
Especially therapists that only know what child loss is supposed to look like from books and lectures.
I understand how logical it seems that a parent should be able to accept his or her child is no longer alive. After all, most of us saw our child’s lifeless body and performed whatever rituals our hearts find most comforting.
We haven’t received a phone call, text, message or new photograph. Weeks, months and years pass and no word.
Of course this child is gone.
But a mama’s heart still hopes. Somewhere deep down there is a part of me that longs for connection to this child I carried, nurtured and loved.
So sometimes my heart will play tricks on me.
Read the rest here: Am I Refusing To Accept My Child Is Gone?
I first shared this post eight years ago after a group of bereaved parents and I were talking about how things that used to be simple and straightforward simply weren’t anymore.
Things like the question, “How many kids do you have?”
Things like going to a movie or picking a place to eat out.
So. Many. Things.
Honestly, I thought it’d be less of a minefield by now-I mean it’s been ten years already! And while there ARE some things that I find easier, most of the things I talk about in this post are still hard.
❤ Melanie
One of the things I’ve been forced to embrace in the wake of child loss is that there are very few questions, experiences or feelings that are simple anymore.
“How many children do you have?”
A common, get-to-know-you question lobbed across tables, down pews and in the check-out line at the grocery store. But for many bereaved parents, it can be a complex question that gets a different answer depending on who is asking and where we are.
Read the rest here: It’s Complicated
thelifeididntchoose 