grief triggers – Page 2 – thelifeididntchoose

Practical Ways to Remember Our Children During the Holidays

It’s not like we forget, is it?

And it may be that other folks remember too.

But it can feel oh, so lonely amidst the lights and the laughter when the one name you want most to be spoken aloud just isn’t.

So what are some practical ways to include our missing child in holiday celebrations?

I, and three other bereaved moms, together with Our Hearts are Home, shared thoughts and ideas on how to remember -in a tangible, physical way-our child during the holidays.

Two common themes tie them all together: (1)represent your child in a meaningful way that is authentic to who they are; and (2) help lead others into the knowledge that it is not only OK to talk about your child but downright joyful to hear it (even if it makes you cry).

Not every idea will suit every family but there is probably one (or more!) that you might find suit yours.

So here they are.

THANKSGIVING

Light a candle (real or battery powered) and put it in a prominent place or as part of a centerpiece. You can attach a lovely tag or put a picture next to it or somehow otherwise indicate that it is in honor of your child.
Memory candles of all sorts are available to order and ideas for making them are easily found online. They often have names and (if you want them) dates etched directly onto the candle or on a container designed to hold a candle.
Photographs are always wonderful. Some families set a place for their missing child or have a separate chair set aside to note their absence. Pictures can be placed on the table, on a side table next to a child’s favorite dish or in some other spot. It’s a Jewish tradition to include photos of all close family members gone before during Sukkot (a biblical holiday many feel is the precursor to our Thanksgiving) as a way to remember and honor ongoing ties and love
Cook your child’s favorite dish and put a note next to it that says so. Perhaps bring copies of the recipe or, if something that lends itself to this, prepare take home boxes with a serving or two for family members to relish and remember later. Mention to others sharing the meal that this is your child’s favorite and why. It’s a great way to encourage natural conversation.
Share why you are thankful for your missing child. This can be done in the context of offering thanks for other family members who have joined you and for those who are no longer present if you feel awkward or expect pushback from family members.
Provide a ceramic plate with your child’s name in the center and acrylic paint markers. Have family and friends write one word that they think of when they think of your child. Directions for curing the paint and making it permanent can be found online.
Donate a holiday meal in their honor through a local food bank or charity.
Watch a favorite movie or show and share memories of why it’s a favorite.
Create a memory table by asking guests to bring something that reminds them of your child. During your time together, ask the guest to share why they chose that item.
Create a Thanksgiving memory journal. Ask others to write a memory in it. You can add to it each year.
Do an act of kindness in their honor.
Share stories. One of the things I’ve learned is that if I don’t bring Dominic up and “give permission” to others, they often won’t either. Share about your child in Heaven just as you would one that is here on earth. Every family has a story about that “one Thanksgiving, so and so did…” .
Provide a family photo album of Thanksgivings past. These will naturally spark conversation about memories, about the lives and love of those no longer present and give bereaved parents a great opening to speak about their child.
Leave an empty chair or place setting.
Participate in a Thanksgiving walk or run in their honor. There are lots of 5Ks around this time of year and almost anyone can participate. Get a group, dress up honoring your child and (turkey) trot on!
You might just want to visit their grave or a special place that is meaningful to you.
Send thank you notes to those who were special to them or played a part in their lives. The first Thanksgiving after Dominic left for Heaven, I wrote notes to everyone I could think of who had shown up or helped our family in some way during those early days.

CHRISTMAS

Hang ornaments that represent your child. Some parents do a separate tree for their missing child (and some keep it up all year).
Hang your child’s stocking along with the others. You can write letters to your child and encourage other family members to add their own. You can ask family members to fill the stocking with gift cards that can be donated in your child’s name to a charity that represents his or her heart.
Volunteer to serve at one of the many organizations that need extra help this time of year.
Listen to favorite songs. It’s easy to make an entire dedicated playlist of songs that remind you of your child or are your child’s favorites.
Buy a gift they’d like and give it away. Many parents purchase gifts for a child who would be the same age as their child this year. You can get names from your local DHR or from churches or other organizations.
One family who draws names for Christmas asked family members to purchase a present that began with their daughter in Heaven’s first initial.
Adopt a family and provide Christmas for them in your child’s honor.
Make a memory chain for the tree. One mom said her daughter had family and friends write a memory on the strips and then put them together in a chain. It could be lengthened each year.
Purchase a poinsettia at church remembering your child.
Give an item that belonged to them to someone who would treasure it. This one can be hard because it’s difficult to release those physical objects our child last touched. But if/when you are ready, it can be a truly beautiful and special act of remembrance.
Make cookies for caregivers or others who helped during a prolonged illness or hospital stay. Make cookies for first responders in your own community.
Memory table runners are easy to purchase or make. Have guests write a favorite memory using permanent markers.
Make a story book of their life and display it where others can see it and enjoy it.
Make or purchase an ornament with their handwriting imprinted to give to family. Because Dominic left for Heaven when my other children were also leaving home, I have made or bought ornaments every year that represent our family and include names. Dominic’s is always included.
(Of course, you could do most of the things listed for Thanksgiving as well.)

I’ve written a lot about surviving the holidays after child loss and will be sharing many of those posts in the coming weeks.

But there are a few thoughts I want to leave you with that I pray provide some hope for any heart dreading the next seven weeks.

Soon after Dominic ran ahead to Heaven I realized all the trappings I associated with Thanksgiving and Christmas were not essential to the primary ideas embodied in both holidays.

Thanksgiving is about setting aside time to express gratitude to God for what He has done, is doing and will continue to do.

I can still manage that.

Christmas is a celebration of the Light coming into a dark world.

This broken heart can definitely get behind that any day.

So, in the end, if your heart cannot bear the thought of one more holly jolly song, one more hap-hap-happy get together, one more frenzied rush to the store for a forgotten present or pantry item—just choose to sit this one out.

It’s OK. I promise.

Here’s a link to the webinar: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=70hNdxY9hWE

And here are links to a few downloadable resources:

Surviving the Holidays: Navigating Christmas With a Broken Heart (https://www.heartacheandhope.org/_files/ugd/fc3456_3f2dbf5095c847a5ac340996c3fbdac1.pdf)

Grief and Holidays: What the Bereaved Need From Family and Friends (https://www.heartacheandhope.org/_files/ugd/fc3456_0100d55e210d4ffa8cffa6f113eef48a.pdf)

Season of Joy: Blessing the Brokenhearted During the Holidays (https://www.heartacheandhope.org/_files/ugd/fc3456_f497651fd49c48c3ae86ba202e9f8ead.pdf)

Remembering Our Children During the Holidays: Practical Ideas (https://www.heartacheandhope.org/_files/ugd/fc3456_672b3487e6214ba7adb6ad6c895bd108.pdf)

Grieving a Child: Raw Emotions and Healing

I hid this post in my draft folder for months before I published it the first time.

It seemed too raw, too full of all the pain inside my mama heart to put out in the wide world for everyone to see.

And then it was time (like now) to change the flowers on the place where my son’s body rests and I couldn’t stand it anymore.

I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs, “THIS IS NOT ALL THERE IS OF MY BOY!” I wanted to stop people on the street and make them listen to his story, to give away a piece of him for others to carry in their hearts.

Read the rest here: My Child Existed. He Matters.

When You Have to Live With Unanswered Questions

It’s been over two decades since the Towers fell. Hard to believe-no matter how great the tragedy, life goes on.

Like many, I was watching things as they happened that day.

My husband, an architect and engineer, saw the wobble in the first tower and knew, he knew, it was going to collapse. Horrified I began to understand that whoever was still in that building was running out of time.

And I cried, oh, how I cried. It was awful.

Since then I’ve lived my own tragedy.

My son was unexpectedly and instantly taken from us in an accident.

So when I’m reminded of 9/11 my heart takes me right to those left behind.

And while politicians and pundits can debate the reasons for the attack, can argue about what could have been done, should have been done and why and when-they can never answer the real question in the heart of every family who buried a loved one because of the events of that day.

Why MY husband, wife, daughter, son? How do I make sense of this senseless tragedy?

The answer is, “You can’t.”

You cannot know why one person chose to go this way and lived and another went a different direction and died. It’s impossible to understand the series of events that made someone late for work that day but lead another to show up early.

Last minute travel plan changes saved some from being aboard the fateful planes and put others in a seat.

I can’t know exactly why my son lost control of his motorcycle that night. I will live the rest of my life without an answer to that question.

It’s an ongoing challenge to face the discomfort of things NOT making sense. It goes against human nature to acknowledge that the world is far less predictable than we like to believe.

It takes courage to greet each new day with knowledge that ANYTHING might happen-not only beautiful and wonderful things, but ugly and awful things as well.

If I let my heart dwell on the questions of “why?” and “control”, I am paralyzed, unable to take another step.

There’s no clear path through a world filled with the rubble of broken lives and broken people.

So I turn my heart toward Christ and His promise to never leave or forsake me.

And I am emboldened to take the next step because I know He is already there, even in the dark.

Some Days are Hard Stops. When I Can’t Ignore the Missing…

Most of the time I’m just kind of rolling along.

There are things to do, places to go, people to see, animals to feed.

I get up, get going and get on with it.

But there are some days that are what I call “Hard Stops” on this journey. They are the days that force my heart to take special notice of the fact that Dominic isn’t here.

Sometimes they are milestone days like birthdays or holidays or the anniversary of that awful knock on the door.

Sometimes they are events where he should be there-like seeing his brother one more time before he deploys half-way around the world.

These days make my heart measure the time since I last hugged his neck, heard his voice, saw his strong, square hands reach across the table for the salt shaker-and I am overcome with how long it has been!

Then my heart shifts to the months and likely years I will have to live with this aching empty place where he should be but isn’t and I fear I just can’t do it!

Many days I’m able to distract myself from the sorrow and to live with the missing.

But these “hard stop” days force me to face it head on. and it is overwhelming.

Every. Time.

So what do I do?

When my heart is overwhelmed, I take it to the Rock that is higher than I.

I run to the Refuge of my Faithful Father.

I turn my eyes to my Savior Who will redeem and restore.

I put my hand firmly in the hand of my Shepherd Who will not leave me in this Valley of the Shadow of Death.

And I pray for myself-and every heart having a hard time holding onto hope today-that we will feel the Father’s loving arms around us and that He will give us strength to stand.

Grief Work 2025: Marking The Milestones

When your child is born you take notes.

You plan to mark this day as a special milestone for the rest of your life.

You absolutely, positively NEVER think you will have to mark another one: the day he or she leaves this life and leaves you behind.

But some parents have to mark both. The dash in the middle is shorter than we anticipated, and our child’s life ends before ours.

So how do you do it? How in the world do you observe the polar opposite of a birthday?

Here are some ideas (shared with permission) that parents shared recently in an online discussion sparked by one mom’s very honest admission that she just didn’t have it in her to create another video montage from the same old photos to mark yet another year without the earthly companionship of her precious son:

Don’t do anything. That is an option. We do not have to draw a red circle around THAT day on the calendar, gather folks as if it’s a celebration. As one mama said, “Yes, the day they left us does not need to be ‘remembered’.” For some parents, going to work like it’s a regular day, engaging in whatever normal activities are required, ticking the hours off on the clock until night falls and the earth turns to the next day may be the very best choice. Another mama wrote this: “I have friends who celebrate a ‘heaven day’ for their son. I can’t. I just can’t. If it were up to me, I would probably go camp somewhere all alone, and not move a muscle for the entire day.”

Do something big (or small). Some parents choose this day to hold an annual “Celebration of Life”. It might take the form of a balloon release, or lantern release at home, at a park or other outdoor venue or at the cemetery. It might be lunch or dinner out at your child’s favorite restaurant or at home with your child’s favorite menu. Invite friends and family to join you and ask that they bring a photograph or memory and share. One mom said that such an event kind of happened organically and spontaneously when contacted by her son’s widow: “We went to one of [his] favorite restaurants. Told funny stories about him, talked about how missed he is, then went o his grave and put fresh flowers.”

Serve others. Did your child have a special interest in a particular charity or community organization? Maybe you can spend this day volunteering or raising awareness/money for that group. Often having something to do helps a heart from sinking into despair. If the group allows, maybe put up a sign saying, “Volunteering today in honor of __________” and attach appropriate photos of your child. Some parents whose child died from cancer or suicide or violence participate in walks or fundraisers that highlight those causes.

Encourage Random Acts of Kindness (RAK). I plan to do this one in April. It will be seven years (!) and I can barely stand it. But so many of the comments from Dominic’s friends after he left for Heaven went something like this one, “He was always doing something for someone else. Fixing their car or showing up when they needed an encouraging word.” He was known for his many acts of generosity and kindness and I feel like he lives on in the hearts of others because of that. I had cards printed ( I intentionally let his “dates” off) which I will distribute well in advance of April 12th for friends and family to leave behind when they do a RAK in memory of Dom. Vistaprint and other online publishing companies offer reasonable prices and will guide you through the process step-by-step.

Escape. Lots of us find being at home (alone or in the company of others) too hard to bear. Many received word of their child’s death at home and as the day creeps closer, the memories crowd every corner of mental and physical space and are inescapable. So sometimes parents plan a trip around this time. Go somewhere your child would have loved to go or go somewhere he or she enjoyed visiting. Take photos and post them in honor of your child if you want to.

Focus on family. You may not want to be alone, but the thought of being with anyone outside your closest grief circle is overwhelming. That’s OK. Spend time with the people who, like you, are most affected by your child’s absence. You don’t have to do anything special. You can make room for them to speak or not speak about their grief as they choose. Sometimes just having another warm body in the room is enough to ward of the chill of despondency.

Flip the script. For those of us who believe that this life is not all there is, the day can be one of celebration. Our children have escaped life full of sorrow and trouble and are safe forever in the arms of Jesus, where we will also be one day. Waiting is hard, but waiting is not forever.

Simply allow yourself to feel the full force of missing and grief. “As far as his death day, for me, that is a day when I allow myself to fully feel and express the pain of my loss. It is a way to (temporarily) empty myself of all this pain, so I can breathe again to face another day. I will sit in his sweatshirt, listen to reflective music, cry a lot, talk to him, pray to God, and just allow myself to feel all the pain and emotion that everyday responsibilities cause me to stuff away.” If you can manage it, taking the day off work and giving yourself grace and space to grieve in ways that are denied so often may be the very best way to experience the day.

Here’s a list of ways some parents honor their child on this day:

Giving away stuffed toys with a card or note explaining why.
Taking goodies to first responders and/or nurses who were served their family during an accident or illness.
Handing out Bibles or books in memory of their child.
Making memory baskets for parent whose child will be born straight into heaven.
Adding to a scholarship fund or other charitable fund in honor of their child.
Placing balloons, flowers or other special decorations on their child’s final resting place.
Lighting candles, releasing butterflies, balloons or lanterns.
Placing a memorial advertisement in a local paper.

Do or don’t do whatever helps you make it through those twenty-four hours that represent another year of sorrow, another year of missing.

There is NO wrong way to mark or not mark this day.

It’s up to you and your heart.

And absolutely does not require anyone else’s permission or approval.

Grief Work 2025: Will it Ever Get Better?

I know that when I first stumbled onto a bereaved parent group, it was one of the things I was looking for: evidence that the overwhelming pain of child loss would not last forever.

Some days I was encouraged as those who had traveled farther down this path posted comments affirming that they could feel something other than sorrow.

Some days I was devastated to read comments from parents who buried a child decades ago asserting that “it never gets better”.

Who is right?

What’s the difference?

Do I have any control over whether or not this burden gets lighter?

It was eleven years in April since Dominic ran ahead to Heaven and I’ve learned a few things since then.

Time, by itself, heals nothing. But time, plus the work grief requires, brings a measure of healing.

If I cling with both hands to my loss, I can’t take hold of the good things life still has in store for me.

Longing for the past all the time only brings sorrow. I cannot turn back time. Days, weeks, years will keep coming whether or not I choose to participate in them. I will rob my heart of potential joy by focusing exclusively on the sorrow I can’t undo.

Daily choices add up. When I lean into the small things required each day, I build confidence that I can do the bigger things that might still frighten me. Making phone calls eventually helps me show up to a meeting or to church. I strengthen my “can do” muscle every time I use it.

Doubt doesn’t disappear. Facing my doubt forces me to explore the edges of my faith. It does no good for me to stuff questions in a drawer and hope they go away. They won’t. I have to drag them into the light and examine them. Doubt is not denial. If God is God (and I believe that He is!) then my puny queries don’t diminish His glory. He knows I’m made of dust and He invites me to bring my heart to Him-questions and all.

My mental diet matters more than I might think. I have to be very careful what I feed my mind. If I focus on sadness, tragic stories, hateful speech and media that feeds my fears and despair then those feelings grow stronger. If instead I focus on hopeful stories, good conversation with faithful friends and inspiring quotes, verses and articles I feed the part of my heart that helps me hold onto hope.

I need a space where I can be completely honest about what this journey is like. Bereaved parents’ groups have been that space for me and have been an important component of my healing. But even there I must be cautious about how much time I spend reading other parents’ stories if I notice that I’m absorbing too much pain and not enough encouragement.

Grief is hard.

It’s work.

And that work is made up of dozens of daily choices that are also often difficult.

I don’t expect to be healed and whole this side of eternity. But I do know that if I consistently do the work grief requires I will be stronger, more whole and better able to lean into the life I have left than if I don’t.

I want to live.

I want to honor my son by living a life that’s more than just limping along, barely making it, struggling for each step.

So I do the work grief asks of me.

Even when it’s hard.

give yourself space to do the work grief requires

Grief Work 2025: Self-Care Is Necessary

My first instinct as a mother and a shepherd is always, “How can I help?”

I routinely set aside my own needs for the needs of others. Not because I’m so selfless but because that’s how I’m made-I’ve always had the heart of a caretaker.

That’s not a bad thing, most of the time.

But if taking care of others means NOT taking care of myself, then in the end, I’m of no use to anyone. When I allow every bit of energy-emotional, physical, psychological and spiritual-to drain away until there’s nothing left, I am unable to meet my most basic needs, much less the needs of others.

I’ve written before that grief puts a hole in my bucket. It guarantees that no matter how much is poured in, I’m never truly full.

I’ve also written about setting boundaries and trying to preserve margin as I walk this Valley. I have to create space between me and the people around me if I’m going to make it through.

But there are some other steps I can take to help ensure my heart is strong enough for the journey. It’s not always about what I don’t do.

Sometimes it’s about what I choose TO do.

Here are some ideas for self-care in grief (or really ANY hard place in life):

Be patient with yourself. There is no time frame for grief. Each heart is unique. Extend grace to yourself, just as you would to a friend. Try not to take on extra responsibilities. It’s better to allow for some flexibility in obligations during this time (even around holidays!).
Listen to your body and your heart: If you need to cry, then cry. If you need to sleep, then do so. If you need to talk to someone, seek out someone who will listen. If you need to reminisce, then take the time. It is important for the grieving process that you go with the flow.
Lower expectations for yourself and communicate this new reality to others. You are not able to operate as you did before loss. Your capacity for interacting with others, managing tasks and being available for the needs of others has been dramatically altered. Own up to it, and let others know that it will be some time before you can shoulder the responsibilties you once did.
Let others know what you need from them. No one is a mind reader. While we who are bereaved think our needs are obvious, it’s simply not the case. Communicate to family and friends how they can support you.
Accept the help of others. Understand that grief is hard work. It requires a great deal of energy and can be exhausting. Even though we place a high value on self-sufficiency, it is important to ask for, and accept, help from those close to you. Others careand genuinely want to be of assistance, but usually do not know what to specifically offer. In particular, it is vital to know who will listen and be supportive. Sharing your story out loud is one key to healing. And, remember that professional guidance is also available
If you need counseling, get it! There is NO shame in asking for help. Get all the support you need. There are many bereavement support groups as well as counselors or spiritual advisors who specialize in bereavement counseling. Don’t hesitate to contact a medical and or mental health specialist if you have feelings of hopelessness or suicidal thoughts.
Accept your feelings. Feelings are neither right nor wrong, they just are. Sadness, loneliness, fear, confusion, anger—these are among the many feelings you may experience, and are completely normal. Emotions are often raw early in the grief process, but it is important to express them. Attempting to stifle feelings usually leads to an emotional outburst at an inconvenient time.
Face your feelings. The painful emotions associated with grief are a natural and normal response to loss. You can try and suppress them or hide from them all you want but in the end this will only prolong the grieving process. Acknowledging your pain and taking responsibility for your feelings will help you avoid the complications often associated with unresolved grief such as depression, anxiety, substance abuse, and health problems.
Express your feelings. The most effective way to do this is through some tangible or creative expression of your emotions such as journalling, writing a letter expressing your apologies, forgiveness and the significant emotional statements you wish you had said, or art projects celebrating the person’s life or what you lost.
Keep a journal. Writing down your thoughts and feelings can help you to validate and work through your grief.
Feel whatever you feel. It’s okay to be angry, to yell at God, to cry or not to cry. It’s also okay to laugh, to find moments of joy, or to let go when you’re ready. Your grief is your own and no one can tell you when you should be “over it” or when to “move on.”
Pay attention to physical needs. It’s easy to ignore your health when all you want to do is give up and give in. However, it is even more important NOW to take care of yourself. Eat balanced meals (set an alarm if you have to), try to get adequate rest (get medication if you need to) and make sure to get in some physical activity every day (set a timer if necessary).
Get physical exercise. If you exercised prior to your loss, try to maintain the same routine. If you did not exercise prior to your loss visit your doctor before embarking on a physical exercise routine. Physical exercise can improve the way you feel.
Eat right and get enough sleep. Maintaining a healthy diet and getting proper sleep is essential for functioning as well as you can. If you are having difficulty with either, visit your doctor.
Be aware of short-term relievers – these can be food, alcohol/drugs, anger, exercise, TV, movies, books, isolation, sex, shopping, workaholism, etc. Most of these things are not harmful in moderation but when used to cover-up, hide or suppress our grief they get in the way of the work grief requires.
Take the time to do the things you need to do for yourself. When you feel up to it, engage in activities to which you feel drawn. It could be visiting a place you haven’t been to in a while, walks in nature, reading, etc.
Pamper yourself. Treat yourself well. Do things for yourself that are helpful like walks, being with people who are nurturing to you, and inexpensive activities

Grief is a lifelong process-a marathon, not a sprint.

Maintaining space to do the work grief requires and engaging in activities and health habits that help me do that work is the only way to endure.

Grief Work 2025: I Have to FEEL All The Things In Order to Heal

It’s so tempting to try to run or numb the pain of child loss!

Who willingly submits to 24/7 excruciating pain?

But the truth is, unless I face my feelings, give my heart and mind time to experience them and work toward processing them, I cannot even begin to heal.

One of the most difficult and time consuming aspects of grief work is setting aside space and giving myself grace to do just this. In the first couple of years I would venture to say that the majority of my waking hours-intentionally or unintentionally-were spent on this very thing.

Even eleven years later, I still spend some portion of every day (although now it may be fleeting) feeling, dealing and trying to work on healing part of my broken heart.

❤ Melanie

If I touch a hot stove my hand jerks away almost before my mind registers the searing pain. It’s reflex. Our bodies were designed to react to and protect us from things that cause pain.

Run away. Don’t go back. Set up barricades and warning signs so that others can be protected.

Most of the time, this reaction serves us well.

But sometimes those reflexes keep us from healing.

Anyone who’s had major surgery knows that when the nurses come in the next morning saying, “We’re going to get you out of bed today!”, the last thing you want to do is swing your legs over and stand up. It HURTS!

We want to avoid what hurts, not embrace it.

So it’s no surprise that when we suffer deep emotional wounds, our first response is to try to run away or bury them or ignore them. The last thing we want to do is face them.

But if I am to heal, I have to face them. I have to take hold of each place where the dagger of grief and sorrow and regret and anger has pierced my heart and examine it closely. I have to decide what to do with it, how to integrate it into my life after loss.

Grief is work! That is one of the reasons grievers need solitude as well as companionship on this journey. And that is why grief can’t be hurried along. It takes a great deal of time to do the work grief requires.

If instead of facing our pain, we try to run away or distract ourselves or numb ourselves with alcohol, food or drugs, we only prolong the process. Grief will not be ignored forever.

healing doesnt mean damage never existed

We must FEEL what we need to feel.

Then we must DEAL with those feelings-it might mean seeking a professional counselor or a trusted friend. Online or in-person grief support groups are a wonderful resource. Journaling can help too. But we have got to acknowledge and work through these feelings.

And then we can begin to HEAL Hearts that have embraced and made some sense of grief can begin to beat again. They can begin to love again and feel joy again. They can learn to carry both sorrow and happiness-to remember and honor the missing child while also honoring and loving family and friends still here.

It’s not a “once and done” exercise.

I have repeated these steps over and over in the soon to be [nine] years since Dominic ran ahead to heaven. New feelings show up at the door of my heart and I have to choose to feel them, to search for what they mean and why they are here and then allow them to be woven into the fabric of who I am NOW-this side of child loss.

It takes courage and stamina and determination, but it is the only way forward.

owning-our-story-and-loving-ourselves-through-the-process

Grief Work 2025: Setting Aside Time to Grieve

One of the trickiest parts of life as a bereaved parent is navigating the space between our surviving children and the giant hole left by the one (or more) who have run ahead to Heaven.

There are so many ways I might cling too hard to what’s lost and not lean hard enough into what continues to bring blessing and beauty to everyday life.

I’ve learned it’s best to find quiet moments in which I can journal the feelings that might be unhelpful or downright hurtful to express to others.

❤ Melanie

One of the commitments I made out loud and in my heart the day Dominic left us was this: I was not going to let his death tear my family apart.

I was not going to let him become the sainted brother that stood apart and above his siblings.

I was going to continue to give as much of my time, effort, love and presence to each of the three I had left as I had done when there were four on earth beside me.

I’ve been more or less successful in keeping this promise.

I have no doubt that if you asked my living children, they could give you examples when I’ve failed. Some days are just too much. Some events are too hard to attend.

Some moments I am overwhelmed

and undone

and there’s no way to hide it.

But I’ve learned a few things that help me be present, attentive and joyful for the beautiful things that are happening around me.

One of those is to set aside time whenever possible to “pre-grieve” an upcoming celebration or gathering.

I allow my heart to feel all the things it needs to feel. I journal the questions and comments and (sometimes) anger that would otherwise overflow and ruin a moment. I write to Dominic and tell him how much I miss him, how much I wish he were here and how very hard it is to mark another happy occasion without him.

I mentally rehearse walking in, greeting people, making small talk.

I think ahead to any big moments that might tap emotions I need to hold in check. I even plan an “escape route” should I need it. Just knowing it exists has always been enough so far.

Sometimes I find a song that suits my mood.

I cry.

And then I choose a token I can wear or slip in my pocket to remind me that I’ve got this.

I can show up and smile (honestly) because I’ve already loosed the dam of grief and let the stored up torrent flow over the spillway.

I’ve learned the hard way that memories are precious. I don’t want the ones I’m making now to always be tainted by sorrow and loss.

Dominic is never far from my thoughts and always in my heart.

I’m not abandoning nor forgetting him.

I honor him by honoring his siblings.

Love lives.

Bereaved Parent Month 2025: Ten Ways to Survive Hard Grief Days

My hardest grief season begins in November and runs to the end of May. Thanksgiving through Dominic’s birthday on (or near) Memorial Day are days full of triggers, memories and stark reminders that one of us is missing.

If I could fall asleep November first and wake up in June I’d do it.

But I can’t so I have to employ all the tricks I’ve learned in the over eight years since Dominic ran ahead to heaven to survive those particularly challenging months.

Here are ten ways I survive hard grief days:

1. I make lists of things to do. I’ve found that if I don’t make a plan for each day it’s far too easy to just lie around and feel sorry for myself. I use index cards but whatever works for you is fine. I list household chores, phone calls to make or notes to write, exercise, errands or whatever. And then I consider them non-negotiable. These are my marching orders and after my morning coffee I start down the list.

2. I do something creative. I crochet or arrange flowers or sew a little. Taking just five or ten minutes to make something beautiful changes my perspective. I have a can opener that takes the lids off without sharp edges and I make magnets for friends and family members or just to have on hand for a little gift.

3. I take a walk. I am thankful I can go outside on my own property and enjoy fresh air and country sunshine. I know not everyone has that option. But even a walk inside your office building or up and down a couple flights of stairs gets the blood pumping and releases endorphins. If I can’t walk, then I at least change my physical position-from sitting to standing, from standing to moving. Body position impacts my emotions.

4. I find something to make me smile. There is scientific evidence to back our common sense experience that smiling lightens our mood and helps our hearts. I read jokes or check out some of my Facebook friends that tend to post funny memes or stories. Sometimes I just “practice” a smile and even that can send feel-good hormones surging through my system.

paco face (2) — “Don’t try to win over the haters, you are not a jackass whisperer.” ~ Brene Brow

5. I call or text a friend. Sometimes I just need to know that someone else is aware of my hard day. No one can undo my grief but when I feel there is a witness, it lightens the load somehow.

6. I stay off Facebook and other social media platforms. I love that I’m able to keep in touch with friends and family via social media. But it can be full of drama and negativity as well. So if I’m having a tough day, I remove the potential for it to be made harder due to random comments, posts or photographs.

7. I pet my cats. I have always been an animal lover. But I truly do not know how I could have survived these past four years without the companionship of my cats and other furry friends. Study after study confirms that being in the presence of pets lowers blood pressure and calms nerves.

8. I go with my feelings. There is no rule book that says I have to be tough and hide my tears. If I’m having a hard grief day it is perfectly acceptable to let the sorrow wash over me and let the tears fall. Sometimes fighting the feelings only prolongs my pain. Often a good cry is cleansing and I am much better afterwards.

sometimes you can hurt yourself more by keeping feelings hidden

9. I journal. There are things I need to “say” that are better kept between me, God and my notebook. I have kept a journal for nearly three decades. Many times just writing out my feelings, my fears, my thoughts and my frustrations is enough to take the sting out. There’s something about not keeping it all bottled up inside-even if no other soul reads it-that acts as a catharsis.

10. I copy encouraging quotes or Scripture and hang them prominent places throughout the house. I have notes tacked to my bed post, on my bathroom mirror, taped to the cabinet next to my stove, stuck on the fridge, slid into my wallet in my purse-absolutely everywhere. Because when my heart is hanging on by a thread, the smallest bit of encouragement is often enough to help me hold onto hope.

None of these things undo my grief in the most basic sense.

Dominic is gone, gone, gone and I will not see him or hear his voice until we are reunited in the Presence of our Savior.

But they DO help.

One of the most devastating aspects of child loss is the overwhelming sense that NOTHING makes sense anymore and that I have absolutely NO control.

Choosing helpful habits and actions gives me a way to regain dominion over a tiny corner of my world.

And that little bit of action strengthens my spirit and helps my heart hold on.

THANKSGIVING

CHRISTMAS

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