I remember walking down the grocery store aisle after Dom left us wondering if the face I smiled into was faking it like I was. I wondered if they were hiding behind pleasantries because they form a good shield.
I imagine, on some level, most were. Because nearly everyone has a secret wound.
Read the rest here: Broken Hearts Hiding Behind Small Courtesies
While I’ve always been an introvert, I was not nearly the homebody I’ve become since my son ran ahead to heaven.
Now staying in, carefully planning social events and obligations, leaving a few days between high-energy gatherings and just generally pacing myself is the norm.
I’m truly not anti-social. I love my people. I love seeing them and talking to them.
But since there’s only so much energy to go around I AM selectively social.
❤ Melanie
Grief changes lots of things.
I am simply not able to spend energy on frivolous and marginally meaningful social activities anymore.
I’m sure that hurts some folks feelings and I am truly sorry.
But I can’t help it.
Read the rest here: Not Anti-Social. Just Selectively Social.
While I’ve always been an introvert, I was not nearly the homebody I’ve become since my son ran ahead to heaven.
Now staying in, carefully planning social events and obligations, leaving a few days between high-energy gatherings and just generally pacing myself is the norm.
I’m truly not anti-social. I love my people. I love seeing them and talking to them.
But since there’s only so much energy to go around I AM selectively social.
❤
Grief changes lots of things.
I am simply not able to spend energy on frivolous and marginally meaningful social activities anymore.
I’m sure that hurts some folks feelings and I am truly sorry.
But I can’t help it.
Read the rest here: Not Anti-Social. Just Selectively Social.
I’m no geologist, but from what I understand, earthquakes are nearly always “about to happen”. Fault lines guarantee it. Pressure is building underneath the surface of the earth and when it reaches a level that can no longer be contained, it spews.
Can I just let you in on a secret?
Bereaved parents are full of fault lines.
Read the rest here: Fault Lines: Bereaved Parents and Social Anxiety
This came up in a bereaved parents’ support group and I thought it was a great question: “When you meet someone for the first time, do you tell them about your missing child?”
It’s one of those practical life skills bereaved parents have to figure out.
I remember when it dawned on me a few months after Dominic left us that I would meet people who wouldn’t know he was part of my story unless I told them.
It was a devastating thought.
Read the rest here: It’s Been YEARS, When Should I Mention My Missing Child?
It’s kind of odd to see most of the world suddenly forced to embrace a lifestyle I’ve followed for the past six years.
While I’ve always been an introvert, I was not nearly the homebody I’ve become since my son ran ahead to heaven.
Now staying in, carefully planning social events and obligations, leaving a few days between high-energy gatherings and just generally pacing myself is the norm.
I’m truly not anti-social. I love my people. I love seeing them and talking to them.
But since there’s only so much energy to go around I AM selectively social.
❤
Grief changes lots of things.
I am simply not able to spend energy on frivolous and marginally meaningful social activities anymore.
I’m sure that hurts some folks feelings and I am truly sorry.
But I can’t help it.
Read the rest here: https://thelifeididntchoose.com/2018/04/22/not-anti-social-just-selectively-social/
Whether surrounded by friends or strangers, I sift through the words threatening to fly out of my mouth very carefully.
Like most of us, there’s a script in my head that doesn’t always bear sharing.
But unlike many, part of my script involves a child that lives in Heaven.
And I’m constantly weighing whether or not I should mention him even though the conversation leads my heart to a memory I very much want to speak aloud. It often makes others uncomfortable, awkward and upset when I do. So sometimes I just don’t.
I hate that I edit myself like that.
I hate that another person’s response or lack of response makes me cautious.
If Dominic were still walking among us, I’d be sharing away. His life, his work, his challenges, his accomplishments would all be fair game as I sat with fellow mothers and grandmothers talking about our families. No one would bat an eye if I mentioned his name, said I missed him since he moved away for that job, admitted that I counted the days until the next family get-together or holiday and I could host a full table.
But because he moved to Heaven, I’m supposed to be “over him”. I’m supposed to bow to convention and quietly stop talking about the son that’s missing from all the photos we’ve taken since 2014. I should shush my heart and silence my lips because it makes other people uncomfortable.
I’m not doing it.
Our family just welcomed the first grandchild.
Little Ryker will never see Uncle Dominic, hear his amazing drum skills or be the brunt of his snarky jokes. But Ryker will know about Dom. I will tell him stories and show him pictures and let him know that the chair at the end of the table is where Uncle Dom used to sit.
I’ll help Ryker learn something everyone needs to know: It’s perfectly natural to include and talk about ALL our family-the ones that are here AND the ones in Heaven.
Even when we no longer enjoy their earthly companionship, we love them and they are still very much part of our lives.
So when I’m reciting all the exciting news, be prepared.
I am mom to four, grandmama to one.
Always and forever.
Amen.
Even in the very first hours after the news, my brain began instructing my heart, “Now, try to be brave. Try not to disappoint people. Try to say the right thing, do the right thing and be the example you should be.”
Whatever that meant.
As I made phone calls and received concerned friends and family members I was so aware that they would take a cue from me-how much can I say, how hard can I cry, should I hug or stand back, should I talk about him or be silent lest it make the tears fall harder?
And here-almost five years later-I still feel like I need to lead the way in conversations and social encounters.
Read the rest here: Can I Just Be Me?
It’s tough leading in a dance you never wanted to learn, isn’t it?
Yet that’s what bereaved parents do every single day.
We carry our own burdens and also shoulder the burden of others in social encounters, working hard not to step on toes.
Sometimes, it’s just too much.
If I don’t mention Dominic, no one else does and that disappoints me.
If I do mention Dominic, the response is often sympathy or rushing to another topic.
Which is also disappointing.
If I smile, then I’m “so much better’.
If I tear up, then I’m “not over it yet”.
Read the rest here: Can I Just Be Me?
Have you ever tried to squeeze into too-small jeans, managed to get them over your hips, sucked in and zipped up only to realize that all that extra “you” is now spilling out over the top of the waistband?
Sometimes that’s how life after loss feels.
Too much emotion, too much baggage, too much EVERYTHING that has to fit inside a very narrow set of other people’s expectations and tolerance for self-expression.
I find that I CAN squeeze my words and actions into that skinny space-for awhile.
But then sure as anything, the real me pops out the top and there I am-exposed to the world- warts and all.
I’ve discovered that self-control is not a limitless commodity.
Now before my Bible believing friends remind me that it is part of the fruit of the Spirit, I want to say this: it sure is! And because the Spirit of Jesus lives inside me I can promise you I am more self-controlled than I would otherwise be.
BUT…
When every single word, action, thought and feeling has to be reined in every waking moment, there is not enough self-control this side of heaven to do THAT!
So I find that some days I just need to stay away from people. Because if I don’t, I’m going to be ugly.
And other days I can do people but I can’t control my eating.
Still other days I can do people and count calories but memories leak out of my eyes and I blubber my way through until darkness brings sleep and relief.
There is just so much inside me now.
So much that really can’t be laid bare or it would scare everyone else half to death.
So I keep trying to squeeze myself into the constraints that make me fit for company.
But beware- I might pop out any minute. ❤
thelifeididntchoose 