Today someone in a bereaved parents group to which I belong asked if anyone else found holidays exhausting.
The comments were a resounding “yes”!
The more I thought about it the more I realized that a big part of what makes it so exhausting is a communication gap.
I am not the same as I was before burying a child.
My family is not the same.
Read the rest here: Subtitles
I’ve never been much of a fan of Halloween but the first October after Dom ran ahead to Heaven I nearly threw up every time I had to pass that aisle in a store or drive by someone’s yard decked out to celebrate darkness and all things scary.
When you’ve lived your own horror story, made up ones aren’t nearly as attractive as they might once have been.
When you’ve spent the last hours before the coffin closes holding the hand of your lifeless child, making merry around death and dying just isn’t something you want to do.
I know some bereaved parents have fond memories around this time of year and thinking about your child dressed up for trick or treating is a comfort.
But I just can’t get over the real images burned in my memory to make room for a lighthearted “celebration” of fear.
❤
Except for a few years early in childhood, I have never liked Halloween. The combination of darkness and creepiness makes my skin crawl.
And now, this side of child loss it makes me angry.
Why? Because for one night (really, for a couple of weeks!) Americans not only think about death, they spend millions of dollars celebrating it.
Not celebrating ACTUAL death-not the absolute horror of being told your child is gone, gone, gone. Instead it’s a fake, “funny”, silly made-up mockery of a very real, very awful truth.
Read the rest here: Halloween
I think the most helpful post I’ve ever shared is this one.
So as a follow-up to yesterday’s thoughts about the holidays I’m sharing it again.
I hope that you feel confident sharing it with your family and friends as an invitation to conversation and as a bulwark against unrealistic expectations.
Holidays are hard no matter how long it’s been.
Melanie ❤
I know it is hard. I know you don’t truly understand how I feel. You can’t. It wasn’t your child.
I know I may look and act like I’m “better”. I know that you would love for things to be like they were: BEFORE. But they aren’t.
I know my grief interferes with your plans. I know it is uncomfortable to make changes in traditions we have observed for years. But I can’t help it. I didn’t ask for this to be my life.
Read the rest here: Grief and Holidays: What the Bereaved Need From Friends and Family
I will confess: I’m no better at this than the first set of holidays after Dominic ran ahead to Heaven.
Every. Single. Year. has brought changes and challenges on top of the empty chair round the family table.
Since Dominic left us we’ve had additions (two grandchildren and various significant others) and sadly, more subtractions (my mother joined Dom in 2019). We’ve dealt with distance, deployment, healthcare and retail work schedules, a pandemic and lots of other, less easily defined tensions and difficulties.
Read the rest here: So…Yeah, The Holidays.
I wrote this six years ago when I realized how hard it was for wounded hearts to tell friends and family what they needed around the holidays.
It’s been shared more than 145,000 times which might reflect that it hits the mark for at least a few folks. My prayer is it makes a difficult season a little less so.
If it speaks for you, feel free to share and let the ones you love know how they can make a hard season slightly easier on your heart.
“I know it is hard. I know you don’t truly understand how I feel. You can’t. It wasn’t your child.
I know I may look and act like I’m “better”. I know that you would love for things to be like they were: BEFORE. But they aren’t.
I know my grief interferes with your plans. I know it is uncomfortable to make changes in traditions we have observed for years. But I can’t help it. I didn’t ask for this to be my life.”
Read the rest here: Grief and Holidays:What the Bereaved Need From Friends and Family
If your family is like mine, once school starts (even if we no longer have anyone IN school) and Labor Day rolls around they begin to ask that dreaded question: “What do you want to do for Thanksgiving and Christmas?”
It used to be a relatively simple matter of sorting people’s work schedules, ability to travel and possible weather related issues into a workable solution for gathering all of us in one spot to celebrate the holiday and each other.
Now I have to overcome the twin hurdles of reluctance and procrastination to do the work necessary to set the dates and times in stone on the calendar. It’s not that I don’t WANT to get together, it’s just that it’s nearly impossible to gauge this far out how my heart may feel come November or December.
But one thing I’ve learned in the nearly nine years since Dom left us-it does not good to stick my head in the sand and hope the season passes unnoticed.
So here are some things I’ve found helpful. Hope they are helpful for you too.
❤ Melanie
We’ve reached the peak of Hallowthankmas in the stores.
I‘ve never liked smashing one holiday on top of another which seems, in my mind, to rob each of their respective unique characteristics.
I’m also particularly frustrated that Halloween-a “holiday” mocking death and focused on fear (for many)-occupies way more space in mass retailers’ aisles than Thanksgiving.
But I can no more hold back the onslaught of merchandising than I can the days marching resolutely toward end of year holidays even if I choose not to join the commercial bandwagon.
So here we are.
Only a short time left to figure out how to honor the missing and love the living through some of the most difficult days of the year for bereaved hearts.
Read the rest here: Holidays are Coming, Ready or Not!
Summer time has its own way of highlighting Dominic’s absence.
Warm days and extra daylight can sometimes slow things down so that every moment hangs heavy with longing.
When we gather with family for cookouts or reunions or Fourth of July in this mama’s heart there is always an empty chair even when every available seat is full.
❤
Most people realize that the “big” holidays are painful for bereaved parents-Christmas, Thanksgiving, Mother’s Day, Father’s Day-that makes sense.
But what most people don’t know is that every single red-letter day-even the obscure ones-can be hard on parents missing a child.
Read the rest here: The Empty Chair
Holidays are hard on bereaved parents’ hearts.
Even though our children are always on our minds, holidays act as megaphones, amplifying the missing, sorrow, grief and lost opportunity to build more memories.
So it’s particularly helpful when friends and family step up and step in, showing extra support on and around those extra hard days.
Here are seven ways you can bless a bereaved dad this Father’s Day:
Read the rest here: Seven Ways to Support a Bereaved Dad on Father’s Day
I’ll be honest-I bristle more than a little bit when people suggest that bereaved fathers don’t feel grief as deeply as bereaved mothers.
They absolutely do.
The problem is that, as a group, bereaved fathers are less likely to make their feelings known, less likely to talk about the impact grief has on their lives and less likely to allow others into their private world of pain and sorrow.
For that reason, fathers are often overlooked grievers.
But they shouldn’t be.
Dads aren’t bystanders in the shattered world of child loss-they are participants as parents of a son or daughter whom they love just as much as any mother.
So just like Mother’s Day is hard for moms, Father’s Day is hard for them.
Read the rest here: Father’s Day for Bereaved Fathers
*I wanted to get this out early enough to help friends and family of a bereaved father understand a little better how they can encourage him as Father’s Day approaches.*
Sometimes the day or the week after a holiday seems extra hard.
Deflated. Exhausted. Weepy. Irritable. Discontented.
All words that can describe a heart once the dishes are washed and the celebration ended.
Some of y’all probably woke up thinking, “I did pretty good on Mother’s Day” only to be blindsided by the tears you managed to hide and the grief you managed to stuff.
That’s OK. It happens.
Read the rest here: Holiday Hangover
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