Category: grief

Everyday Bravery

If we haven’t already we will soon surpass the total number of Americans killed in WW II (in four years) with the number of Americans killed by (or whose deaths were hastened by) COVID19 (in less than a year).

In addition to those grieving the death of a loved one are those grieving the death of financial security, jobs, dreams and freedom.

May I just tell you this?

You are not invisible. Your struggle matters. Your everyday bravery in opening eyes to an unchanged and devastating reality is laudable and noted.

❤ Melanie

Child loss is not the only devastating life circumstance that can make a person want to hide in bed.  

Every single day, broken hearts, broken bodies and limping spirits open their eyes to the dawn and choose to get up and get going.

Read the rest here: You are Braver than You Think

New Mercies Every Morning


I love to read familiar verses in different translations or paraphrases.

It helps my heart hear what I might otherwise miss because familiarity DOES breed a form a contempt even when considering the Word of God.

Recently, on my way through verses on HOPE I copied out Lamentations 3: 19-26.

A couple of the verses are ones most of us have seen or heard often:

mercies new every morning

But back up a little bit, and read it in a different version ( the VOICE) and it takes on even greater meaning for those of us walking in the Valley of the Shadow of Death. 

Read the rest here: New Mercies 

Does 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?

Read the rest here: Will It Ever Get Better?

When You Are Sad, and Alone, and Not Much Fun To Be Around: The Power of Presence

I’m not entirely sure this quote is an accurate one from the original Winnie the Pooh books but it is absolutely an accurate reflection of the characters.

And it’s a beautiful reminder to all of us how powerful presence can be.

May we all have Poohs and Piglets that come sit with us when we are Sad, and Alone, and Not Much Fun To Be Around.

❤

“It occurred to Pooh and Piglet that they hadn’t heard from Eeyore for several days, so they put on their hats and coats and trotted across the Hundred Acre Wood to Eeyore’s stick house. Inside the house was Eeyore.”

Read the rest here: Pooh, Piglet and Eeyore-The Power of Presence

Child Loss: Years Later I Still Need Support


Sometimes I’m envious of folks hobbling along in those plastic boots designed to support an injured leg or ankle and aid healing.

Not because of the injury–I’m thankful I’ve never broken a bone-but because it’s an outward warning to anyone who might otherwise be impatient or insensitive that they just can’t go any faster.

I think there ought to be some kind of t-shirt, pin or banner that gives the same kind of warning for those of us walking around with broken hearts and broken lives.

But there isn’t.

Read the rest here: Broken Legs, Broken Hearts, Broken Lives

TobyMac and Child Loss

I am always devastated when another parent discovers the heartache of child loss.

They are forced to join a club no one wants to join.

But I’m grateful when that parent has a platform because of fame, fortune or circumstances and decides to draw attention to the truth of this painful path.

The singer Toby Mac recently lost his son and has chosen to do just that. He wrote a song that puts words to the sorrow, words to the struggle and vividly shares the heart of a bereaved parent.

Read the rest here: TobyMac, “21 Years” and Child Loss

Please Accept My Apologies

I used to be a lot better at answering every single comment on the blog, on Facebook pages and in closed groups.

I’m not keeping up at all these days.

And I am very sorry for that!

A recent private message reminded me that some folks may think a lack of response is disapproval or rejection. That made me very sad so I want to set the record straight.

These past few months have been…different.

And challenging.

And topsy-turvy.

My husband retired-which is a good thing. But for the past several years he was working out of town so not only am I adjusting to his being home every day, I’m adjusting to his being home at all.

We’ve worked out a schedule that accommodates his night owl habits and my farm girl hours so that’s going well.

The pandemic, wintry weather and the holidays have dampened my spirits a bit so motivation is a factor.

My recent hospital stay, wrist pain and realization that my hands are simply not going to get better make typing more difficult.

All that to say this: I’m really sorry for not being more attentive, more timely and more responsive to comments. I read every. single. one.

I’m going to try hard to catch up.

If you feel overlooked or are ever concerned there’s something else going on besides my own preoccupation, lack of diligence or oversight, PLEASE message me!

I never, ever want a single heart to feel sad or abandoned because of something I do or don’t do.

I promise you are important to me.

❤

Solitude, Isolation? How Can I Tell The Difference?

I know these days so many of us are spending more time at home, more time alone.

For introverts or wounded hearts not having to turn down invitations can seem like a gift.

But it’s easy to slide from solitude (healthy, restorative alone time) into isolation (unhealthy, depleting separation). So I ask myself a few questions to help sort it out.

If you are feeling increasingly alone and forgotten, full of despair and abandoned, you might want to use this checklist too.

Even in this era of social (physical) distancing a heart can and absolutely should seek out community.

It’s what we were made for.

❤

I’ve always loved my alone time.

As an introvert (who can, if pressed pretend not to be!) my energy is restored when I interact with one or two folks or no one at all.  A dream afternoon is writing while listening to nothing louder than the wind chimes outside my door.

I treasure solitude.

Since Dominic ran ahead to Heaven, I find I need even more alone time than before.

That quiet place is where I do my most effective grief work, undisturbed by interruptions and distractions.

But I need to be careful that solitude doesn’t shift into isolation. 

Read the rest here: Solitude or Isolation? Which is it?

Why I’m Not Going Anywhere

I want to make perfectly clear that this is NOT a political post.

I don’t do that here.

It is, instead, a PSA for anyone who follows the blog and might feel the need to leave any or all social media platforms in light of recent events.

I don’t want folks who depend on these daily posts to be left out in the cold.

I have friends from across the political, socioeconomic, religious and ethnic spectrum. For most of us the uniting factor is a broken heart.

We have learned to walk graciously in our wounded condition and (generally) assume the best about others.

So I’m not going anywhere.

I will continue to post the blog on Facebook, Twitter and Pinterest to make it as widely available to those who want to read it and share it as possible.

If you’ve been depending on those avenues for access and are deleting or deactivating your account, you can follow via email (look for the invitation on any post that says, “Follow Blog via Email” and put in your email address).

Each day’s post will be delivered to your inbox.

I appreciate every heart that gathers around this space.

I often feel like we are keeping company in my living room next to the fire.

I hope that if you find any good or any help in these posts you will choose to remain part of our community.

❤ Melanie

A Few Brave Souls


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.  Phone calls to let others know.  Phone calls from people who couldn’t get in touch with him and were just checking “in case something had happened”.

It had happened.

Read the rest here: Who Steps In? Who Walks Out?