The Moment the Light Makes it Through Again

A couple of years ago, I had a grace-filled, heartwarming visit with another bereaved mama who came all the way from Maine just to hang out with me. And that was so, so good.

As she and I shared over coffee and tea, shopping and meals, lounging and walking we found so many ways in which our journeys have been similar even though the details are really very different.

One is this: There was a distinct moment along the way when each of us began to see light and color again in the midst of our darkness and pain and it was a turning point.

Read the rest here: There’s A Moment When The Light Makes It Through Again

I STILL Need to Tell the Story (Even if You’ve Heard it Before)

I know sometimes folks get tired of me telling the story.

For them, it is a reminder of some awful event that is tucked neatly in the past.

A date on a calendar somewhere that might occasionally tickle the back of their brain and evoke a, “that’s so sad” response but not something they live with every. single. day.

But for me, Dominic’s death is an ongoing experience.

Every day I have to fit his absence into my world. I have to find a way to live around the giant void where he SHOULD be but ISN’T.

Read the rest here: I Need To Tell The Story (Even If You’ve Heard It Before)

I Get To Choose: Light Bearer or Candle Snuffer?

One of the rituals I observe when the time changes and night closes in so very early is to light a candle each evening in the dark.

I’ve done it for years but now as I do it, I think of Dominic.

It is my small way of declaring the truth that darkness will not win.

It’s my protest against despair and hopelessness that threatens to undo me–threatens to undo ALL of us at one time or another.

Read the rest here: Light Bearers and Candle Snuffers

Holidays: Every Year is Different

I admire those families that have holiday plans pinned down for next year by the time they box up this year’s Christmas decorations.

Somehow we’ve never perfected the art of predictable patterns and unchanging life circumstances that make such a thing even possible.

So while we try to observe some of the same traditions from year to year, they tend to be expressed a little differently each time.

Of course, the year Dominic left us EVERYTHING changed.

“Changed” isn’t even really the right word. It was more like everything just stopped. Holidays were out of place in a world where all the color had faded to gray. What heart can make merry when all it feels is sorrow and despair?

Even still, the calendar beckoned and we muddled through the first Thanksgiving and Christmas as best we could.

This will be the eighth (!) holiday season since Dominic ran ahead to Heaven.

My children are all adults with established careers living away from home. We’ve added to the family circle through marriage and childbirth and we’ve had to say “see you later” to my mama who joined Dom with Jesus in 2019. Of course, like so many others, Covid interrupted last year’s celebration.

The past two years have been filled with travel (some planned, some unexpected) including a trip this week out to Texas to spend time with my son’s family.

So I find myself only days away from Thanksgiving without a concrete plan for when we will actually get together around the table and what, exactly, might be on it when we do.

(Please don’t ask me about Christmas yet!)

It’s more than a little uncomfortable for this gal who loves lists and planning and decorating to choose flexibility and flying by the seat of my pants. And it’s very uncomfortable to be the point of contact for various family members who are used to me having answers instead of more questions when they call to find out when they should show up and what they should bring.

But if there’s one thing I’m learning in this life after loss it’s this: Control is an illusion. All the planning in the world can’t account for random and unexpected.

I’m going to make some phone calls today to try to figure it out.

I’m pretty sure we will have plenty to eat, plenty to say and plenty of room for whoever shows up.

Hugs all around!

And pie for dessert. ❤

The Grace of Letting Go

We are graspers by nature, aren’t we?

I know it doesn’t take long for me to go from a sense of thankfulness at God’s bountiful blessing (being a steward) to a sense of entitlement/possession (being an owner).

As long as I think what the Lord graciously provides is mine, mine, mine, then it’s almost impossible to let it go.

When I can remember that everything-every. single. thing.-is from His hands, entrusted to mine for a season (maybe a lifetime but maybe not) then I can release it back to the One who gave it.

The more I practice the art and grace of letting go (even when it is so very hard!), the better I become at it. ❤

As If Time Was in Our Hands

Every spring and every fall we dutifully make the rounds to our clocks and digital devices, putting them first forward an hour and then back in an attempt to make the days “longer”.

As if time was in our hands.

The sun rises and sets according to the Creator’s schedule, we can neither speed the world’s turning, nor slow it down.

We can only choose whether to be present in the moments He grants us.

Read the rest here: Time Change

I Am Still Thankful

I wrote this six years ago but most of it could have been written yesterday.

I was adding up all the things that have happened since Dominic ran ahead to Heaven and each autumn there has been some new and difficult circumstance to mar the beauty of falling leaves.

There have been lovely things too, though-precious moments of quiet rejoicing and memory making. I treasure them in my heart because loss has taught me their value.

Thanksgiving is still my favorite holiday because I am still so very, very thankful.

❤

Thanksgiving has always been my favorite holiday.

My birthday sometimes falls on the day itself, and I have often been able to celebrate with extended family and friends-a full table of food and a full house of fellowship.

I love the colors of fall, the scents of cinnamon and pumpkin, the freedom from gift-giving pressures that lets me focus on the people in my life.

Read the rest here: Thankful But Broken

Is It Possible to H.A.L.T. a Grief Spiral?

If you’ve ever been in any kind of counseling or recovery group , you have probably seen or heard this acronym and advice: HALT  before you speak.

It’s a great reminder that I should take a moment to consider my frame of mind before I blurt out something that might damage a relationship or wound someone else’s heart.

I had never thought about it until recently, but it is also a great reminder to us who grieve that what we interpret solely as grief (which we cannot control) might be compounded greatly by other things  (some of which we can control).

So I am learning to apply the HALT acronym to a grief spiral in my own life.

Read the rest here: HALTing a Grief Spiral

A Bereaved Parent’s Wish List

If you’ve followed this space for very long, you probably noticed that I don’t publish many lists.

I usually like to share my thoughts and observations generously padded by narrative. That’s because lists can sometimes sound harsh and unkind.

But when I came across this one several years ago, I found it honest, useful and to the point for folks who might not wade through folksy wisdom to find the meat of things.

So here it is one more time.

Read the rest here: Bereaved Parent’s Wish List

Even So, I Would Absolutely Still Choose You.

Some of us only felt tiny hands and feet pressing against the inside of our body.  

Some of us saw first steps or first grade. 

Some of us watched our child drive away to college certain it was the beginning of an adventure, not the beginning of the end.

Read the rest here: I’d Still Choose You