Picking Up The Threads Of An Old Life

Life after child loss can be described in various ways.

But any that ring true convey a sense that in an instant, everything is different, shattered, scattered, obliterated, changed.

Read the rest here: Picking Up The Threads

I Wish I Knew How I’m Doing. I’m Just Not Sure.


People see me, these years and months after Dominic left us and ask, “How are you doing?”

I come up with an answer because that’s the law of conversation-you ask something and I answer, then I ask something and you answer.

are-you-ok

Gotta keep that ball rolling.  

If it drops we are both forced to stand there wondering what to do with our bodies, our faces and our thoughts.

But right now, I don’t know HOW I’m doing.

Read the rest here: I Don’t Know How I’m Doing

Bouquet of Blessing

I have the privilege of being trusted with my grandson for over a week while his parents work on getting ready to move.

I recognize not all moms and dads are comfortable leaving their not-yet-two-year-old with grandparents several hundred miles away so I am very thankful my son and his wife are OK with it.

I won’t sugarcoat it and say it’s all rainbows and butterflies. But I will say every minute is a blessing-even the ones that stretch my nerves or my muscles.

I understand NOW what my friends with grandchildren have told me for years-it’s wonderful to be freer from everyday responsibilities and to focus exclusively on relationship and experiences.

When I was a mama to four children six years old and under by age twenty-eight I didn’t have the luxury of spending morning hours exclusively on interactive play.

But now I do.

And it is a lot of fun.

Even when my hand and wrist don’t work as well as they should and screwing on sippy cup lids hurts like all get out. Changing a soaking wet nighttime diaper is a real trick for these arthritic fingers. But my little man is learning to help his ol’ grandmama by lying extra still while I get it done.

I know not every parent on this road of child loss has grandchildren. I didn’t have one until almost five years after Dom ran ahead to Heaven. And I’ll never have one that carries HIS genes, HIS personality, HIS unique quirks.

So it might not be a grandbaby that feels like a blessing in your day.

It might be a pet or a friend or an opportunity to pursue a passion or hobby or pour your life into your community or family.

Whatever it is, take the opportunity to pick those blessings like blossoms, gather them into a bouquet and take a deep sniff.

You’ll be surprised how even a tiny budvase of blessing can spread the fragrance of hope in your life.

And hope helps a heart hold on.

Why I’d 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

Say What You Need To Say. You Might Not Get Another Chance.


Just a couple of days before Dominic left us, I and another one of my kids had a fuss.

He was frustrated and stressed and I was vulnerable and stressed and a few stray words ended up hurting my feelings.

I said, “I can’t talk anymore now”,  and hung up the phone in tears.

He was sorry and I was sorry and we immediately exchanged texts and let the feelings cool so we could resume our conversation the next day.

He sent me flowers.

flower-arrangement

They were still beautiful when he came home to bury his brother.

Read the rest here: Speak Your Peace-You May Not Get Another Chance

If You’re Tired, Rest. You Can Try Tomorrow

I admit I’m an over achiever. I tend to think that if it needs to be done, I have to be the one to do it.

But you know what? I’m learning that the world won’t fall apart if I take a break.

And I’m tired right now.

Really, really tired.

So I’m going to rest today (and maybe tomorrow!) and the world will keep turning, the sun will rise again.

You can rest too.

I promise. ❤

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Self Talk Matters. A Lot.

What you tell yourself matters.

What you rehearse becomes what you believe.

What you believe becomes what you do.

When Dominic first ran ahead to Heaven, I was determined to hold onto truth with both hands.  I would not allow my mind to wander the winding path of “Why?“ or “What if?” or “Where now?”

I was able to keep that up until the funeral.

Then the bottom fell out.

Read the rest here: Why Self Talk Matters

All Kinds of Medicine

I’ve never understood the *wisdom* in refusing appropriate treatment for what ails you.

Sure, no one wants to take a handful of pills every morning and every night but for some the magic of medicine has given us more years than we’d have otherwise.

But pharmaceuticals aren’t the only kind of medicine out there and if we availed ourselves more often of easy-to-access lifestyle choices and built in better habits we might all be happier and healthier!

There truly ARE all kinds of medicine. ❤

Apologies To Email Subscribers

I am so very sorry to my email subscribers!

WordPress has been particularly tricky these last few weeks and that has resulted in posts being published immediately when they should have been scheduled for later.

I know it’s annoying and especially so when accompanied by a broken link.

I’m trying my best to fix it. But truth is there’s not a lot I can do.

So please hang in.

Please hold on.

And forgive any irritating duplication.

❤ Melanie ❤

Don’t Be Shackled By Shame!

Shame is a shackle as sure as any chains forged from iron.  

And it often finds its home in the hearts of those who bury a child.

Bereaved parents may feel shame for lots of reasons:

  • Circumstances surrounding the death of their child-suicide, alcohol, drug abuse;
  • Inability to provide the funeral or burial they want due to financial constraints;
  • Missing signs or symptoms of an illness that may have led to death;
  • Family dynamics that pushed a child away from home or relationship.

The list could be endless-on the other side of child loss our brains pick apart every interaction, every choice, every moment that could have gone one way but went another.

Read the rest here: Shake Off the Shame