We wall off our world with words.
The ones we speak and the ones we swallow down so they don’t escape our lips.
But, as Mr. Rogers says, “Anything human is mentionable.”
Even death.
Read the rest here: Anything Human Is Mentionable
I’m participating in an online discussion group with others who are reading ATLAS OF THE HEART* by Brene Brown.
It’s a helpful exercise to map, name and explore emotions so that I can create more meaningful connections to myself and others.
I think I’ve been doing some version of this my whole life. Language matters. Being able to give any emotion-especially the deep pain and sorrow of child loss-matters.
Language is our portal to meaning-making, connection, healing, learning, and self-awareness….
Language shows us that naming an experience doesn’t give the experience more power, it gives us the power of understanding and meaning.
Brene Brown, ATLAS OF THE HEART, xxi
The morning Dominic ran ahead to Heaven, after I made the awful phone calls I reached for my journal.
I knew if I didn’t start spilling the grief onto paper my heart would explode with sorrow.
Since I learned to hold a pencil I’ve been writing.
It’s how I sort my thoughts, figure out my feelings and express my heart.
Read the rest here: Give Sorrow Words.
*Warning: ATLAS OF THE HEART contains language that may offend some folks. I just don’t want anyone to be surprised. ❤
I try not to pull the “life’s short” or “you never know” card on people very often.
But there are lots of times I want to.
When you’ve said a casual good-bye to a loved one thinking it’s not that big of a deal only to find out the last time was The LAST Time, you learn not to let things go unsaid or unmended.
It’s never too late to begin the habit of speaking love, blessing and encouragement to important people in your life.
Even if it makes them (or you!) uncomfortable.
Maybe especially then.
❤
I’m not sure when I began practicing this but I make a habit of telling people I love them even if it makes them uncomfortable.
Read the rest here: Just. Say. It.
Some things are too hard to swallow no matter how you try to disguise them.
Losing a child is one of them.
I have been a student of the Bible for decades-I take Scripture seriously, believe it with my whole heart and trust that the truth it contains is necessary and sufficient for this life and the life to come. But when Dominic died, I found I was forced to look again at verses I thought I understood.
Read the rest here: Waiting for the Holy Words to Fall Inside
This incident happened awhile ago but it still rankles me.
I’m not one to insist we need to self-censor everything we say or share because it *might* offend someone else. That’s just exhausting!
But…BUT…when someone makes me aware that I’m adding to their burden with my words I’m quick to shut up.
Laying down idle conversation is a small price to pay to love a friend well.
❤
I had a very uncomfortable exchange with someone at church Wednesday night.
We have a light potluck dinner each Wednesday before Bible Study and I’m on kitchen duty. So I was uncovering dishes, adding spoons and getting things ready when conversation erupted around me about a “horrible wreck just up the road.”
I kept silent and tried to focus on the plastic wrap and aluminum foil but couldn’t help hearing the animated relaying of detail after detail until it reached a crescendo ending in someone declaring that, “Well, those people just drive too fast. They don’t even care about themselves.”
You might guess where this is going.
Read the rest here: When People Just Don’t Listen
Honesty is not inherently rude. Even when what’s spoken doesn’t sit well with the person listening to it.
It took awhile for me to figure that out on this journey.
Tone matters, facial expression matters, words matter. But I don’t have to stuff truth in service to the comfort of others.
❤ Melanie
I never ask anyone to adjust the thermostat in a car or at home unless I’m suffocating or shivering.
It’s a point of personal pride that I can tolerate a wider range of temperatures than most people.
And for awhile, I carried that same prideful disdain for “weaker folks” into my grief journey.
I was determined to endure whatever blows might come my way via comments, behavior, subtle and not-so-subtle attempts by others to circumscribe, dictate or otherwise influence my loss experience. I didn’t want to abandon pride in my own strength by admitting I wasn’t as strong as I wished I could be.
Then one day I realized that being honest was not the same as being rude. Telling the truth was not the same as acting selfishly.
Read the rest here: Hey Fellow Griever-Being Honest Is NOT Being Rude
I’m a little tender today.
It’s my mother’s birthday-the first one she will celebrate in Heaven and the first we will mark in her absence.
So I’m turning again to quotes that help my wounded heart.
Reading reminds me I’m not the first soul to travel this way.
Others have been here before and left breadcrumbs.
Read the rest here: https://thelifeididntchoose.com/2019/09/22/saved-bits-for-a-broken-heart/
I first shared this post a couple years ago when social media turned really mean and family dinner tables were transformed from generational bonding experiences into hate-filled battlegrounds.
I am saddened that this crisis and upcoming election has once again made us forgetful that our words matter. How I express my opinion matters.
There are real people attached to our Twitter feeds, Facebook profiles and Instagram followers.
❤
There may be some mamas that don’t drill this into their children but if there are, they don’t live south of the Mason-Dixon line.
Every time there was back and forth in the back seat or on the front porch and Mama overheard, we were told, “If you can’t say anything nice, then don’t say anything at all.”
Read the rest here: If You Can’t Say Anything Nice….
If others had access to my view of this WordPress site they’d marvel at the number of post drafts I’ve left unfinished.
As of today, it’s over a thousand.
But I won’t let them go until I feel like I’ve gotten them right. And lately I haven’t been able to do that.
It’s not traditional writer’s block because I still have lots to say, still put words on [virtual] paper and still dictate random notes onto my phone when walking or driving.
I just can’t finish the thoughts.
I’m not sure if it’s a function of the unprecedented times in which we find ourselves, the sudden and unexpected change of having my husband work from home or what I call my “season of sorrow” that lasts from the end of March through the end of May but something is definitely mucking up the works.
I hope to find a few hours soon to sit down in silence with my own thoughts and my computer and finish up new posts I’ve started.
I really do have things I long to share.
So bear with me friends.
I aim to be back in the swing of things soon.
❤
I’m finding it hard to write these days.
Not because I don’t have anything to say but because I can’t find ways to say it that might make sense to anyone else.
So much is jumbled up inside me, so much is wrapped around itself and I can’t find the end of the string to unravel it.
Ever since Dominic ran ahead to Heaven, writing has been my refuge. First in my journals and now in this space.
I depend on words on the page to tell me what I think and feel.
Lately my trusty tool has let me down.
I’m sure part of it is the abrupt end to silent days and virtually unlimited alone time since the coronavirus crisis upended my routine.
Now when I come in from my walk I’m greeted by my husband (a good thing!) instead of only cats. I spend more time making meals and cleaning up after them. I don’t have the quiet moments watching the sun sink down behind the trees and dark reclaim the living room as I peck away at my keyboard.
Part of it is the time of year.
Sunday will be six years since Dominic left us and each passing day brings me closer and closer to that milestone. I should be better at facing it by now.
But I’m not.
Last year my faithful companion animal died around this time too. His death didn’t hold a candle to the death of my son but any death-every death-pricks that deep wound and reminds me the world is not as it should be.
Last year’s Facebook post:
2:53 4/7/2019 ••UPDATE•• Roosevelt died in my arms without suffering. I am so thankful for the years I had with him. ❤️.
I’m holding my precious companion animal as he dies. I want him to know that he is loved and the last thing he feels to be my hand on his fur.
So today, breathing is enough.
2:53 April 7, 2019
And this year-well-this year death is the headline everywhere.
Actual death, impending death, anticipated death. Numbers, numbers, numbers that represent real people, real lives, real families left behind.
How my heart hurts!
I try to stay away from too much news, too much social media, too much of anything besides family and close friends.
I’m still up before sunrise and spend time reading, praying, researching, thinking, waiting to hear from my heart.
I wish the words would come.
I’m afraid if they don’t my heart will burst.
thelifeididntchoose 