I’m here to tell you: don’t drown your important relationships in unsaid words, unshared feelings, unacknowledged wounds.
All that does is guarantee distance grows between your hearts.
If you let the distance become too vast, or the pile of unsaid truth get too high, you might just find you can’t reach that far or that high to reconnect.
It takes a bit of brave to say what’s important and uncomfortable.
Read the rest here: Speaking Truth
I confess.
When I used to drive by an unkempt yard, a run down house or bumped into an untidy person, I would think, “Goodness! Don’t they care about their yard, home or appearance? They need to do better! I would NEVER let my (fill in the blank) look like that.”
I don’t do that anymore.
Because I’ve learned that there are all kinds of reasons a body may not be busy mowing a lawn, painting a porch or even putting on matching socks.
Read the rest here: Life Happens
It cannot be overstated: holidays are extremely hard after loss. Every family gathering highlights the hole where my son SHOULD be, but ISN’T.
There is no “right way” or “wrong way” to handle the holidays after losing a child.
For many, there is only survival-especially the very first year.
These days also stir great internal conflict: I want to enjoy and celebrate my living children and my family still here while missing my son that isn’t. Emotions run high and are, oh so difficult to manage.
So I’m including some ideas from other bereaved parents on how they’ve handled the holidays. Many of these suggestions could be adapted for any “special” day of the year.
Not all will appeal to everyone nor will they be appropriate for every family. But they are a place to start.
Read the rest here: Practical Ideas for Dealing with the Holidays after Child Loss
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.
I know that every year I seem to need something different. I know that’s confusing and may be frustrating. But I’m working this out as I go. I didn’t get a “how to” manual when I buried my son. It’s new for me every year too.
Read the rest here: Grief and Holidays:What the Bereaved Need From Friends and Family
You don’t have to bury a child to know that changing long-standing family traditions around holidays is a hard, hard thing.
Just ask a parent trying to work out Thanksgiving and Christmas for the first time after an adult child marries. Suddenly the way things have “always been” are no longer the way things are.
Holidays typically involve so many more people and family members than everyday get-togethers and each person brings expectations, emotions and personal history to the table.
So, that is why I decided to run this series of posts NOW. Because one of the things I have learned over the years is that giving people time to adjust to change is a good thing.
Read the rest here: Grief, Holidays and Hard Conversations
The first set of holidays after Dominic ran ahead to Heaven I was both numb and absolutely devastated.
Our family’s loss was fresh enough that folks understood if we just couldn’t do ALL the things or even anything. And that’s pretty much how we blundered through.
The next year, which was more than eighteen months post-loss, it was harder to explain to others how my heart was still oh, so raw and how the thought of “celebrating” still felt overwhelming.
I didn’t want Dominic’s absence to dominate the holidays but I couldn’t pretend it didn’t make a difference.
So I realized I was going to have to speak up and plan ahead because no one else was going to do it for me.
Here is the first in a series of posts I wrote that year-for myself, for my own family to read and to share with the bereaved parent community in the hope they could share with THEIR families and friends.
Our own holiday observations have changed in the years since I wrote them but the principles remain the same.
❤ Melanie
I live in Alabama where we are still sweating buckets under the late summer sun, so I understand if thinking about the holidays is the furthest thing from your mind.
School just starting, new routines in place-am I crazy?
Well, yes (you can find plenty of folks to back you up on that) and no-the days keep coming, one after the other, and these big days will be here sooner than we think.
And for grieving parents, it takes some thinking, some planning and some preparation to meet both extended family’s expectations and extra responsibilities at Thanksgiving and Christmas while carrying a load of sorrow and pain.
One thing I am learning in this journey is that even though I wish someone else would blaze the trail for me, I’m going to have to do it myself. And because every major milestone is overflowing with emotional booby-traps, I have to plan ahead.
Read the rest here: Grief and Holiday Plans: Working Out the Details
I’ve had some struggles this past week.
Family is messy.
There’s tension between who I am as an individual and who I am as part of the unit.
I want, above all, to be light, love and life to the people I love and even beyond-to the people I interact with online and in person in more casual spaces.
But it’s hard.
I’ve been reminded that the only way I can remain grounded in this world is to help my heart remember that this world is not all there is.
Heaven is my true home.
And when my flesh is exhausted, frustrated and overwhelmed with sadness I speak truth to my heart until it is ready to hear it.
❤ Melanie
It comes up often in bereavement groups:
What about signs from loved ones who have gone on to Heaven?
What about books that tell stories of people who have been to Heaven yet “allowed to return”?
What about cardinals and butterflies and feathers and dreams?
It would be so very easy to allow my feelings to rule my heart and to reject the truth of Scripture. It would be less of a struggle to walk this Valley of the Shadow of Death if I could “talk” to Dominic while waiting to join him.
But the Bible is plain: I cannot trust in anything or anyone but Jesus Christ. Every thing and every one else is fallible and will eventually lead me astray.
I wrote this a few months ago and hope it’s helpful to other grieving parents:
Read the rest here: Signs
This is very true.
I found that when I received the news of my son’s accident-it was Scripture I had hidden in my heart that helped me stand.
My Bible was available, but I could not open it. My heart was too broken to read.
But the Spirit brought to mind exactly what I needed from the storehouse of Scripture hidden in my heart.
I am still fighting for joy.
Read the rest here: The Fight For Joy is Not for the Unarmed
One year ago today I came in from Wednesday night church to a message on my answering machine:
“Melanie, when you get this, call me on my cell phone. I’m on my way to Dothan. Your mama was lifeflighted and I’m headed to the hospital”
I have no idea what else my dad said because that was as far as I got before shutting down the message and dialing his number with shaky fingers.
Because when you’ve endured the worst possible news-the news that is utterly final-it only takes half a second for your brain and body to jump from alright to utterly terrified.
Read the rest here: A Challenging Year: For Better or Worse
I was a debater and raised my kids as debaters.
There’s unique beauty in crafting an argument so it crescendos to an irrefutable conclusion.
For the the master orator, nothing is more satisfying than watching her audience lean in and anticipate the glorious finale.
Paul has been leading us to these verses since he began laying the foundation in chapter one of Romans.
Read the rest here: Scripture Journal Challenge: Closing Argument
I’ve often been the person who refused to go along with some group’s plan to ignore a real issue and try to talk around it.
I usually begin like this, “I know it’s hard to talk about, but let’s be honest and…”
I’m even more inclined in that direction now. If my son’s instant and untimely death has taught me anything, it’s taught me that there’s no use pretending.
So I’m not going to pretend: Western society doesn’t do grief well.
Read the rest here: The Elephant in the Room
I did NOT choose THIS life-the life of a bereaved mother-the life where my earthbound kids haul the legacy of burying their brother and losing the family they grew up with around.
But…BUT…there are still choices I can make within this life I didn’t choose.
I can choose to continue to invest the time, talent and energy I have in eternally significant ways.
I can choose not to hide my wounds, my scars, my fears, my questions and my struggles.
I can choose to be honest about the way grief continues to shape some aspects of how I walk in this world.
And I can choose to engage with the God who made me, who carries me and who will redeem, restore and resurrect everything and everyone the enemy has stolen.
❤ Melanie
It may not be this way around the country or around the world, but here in Alabama school has been in session for several weeks and the hot weather along with added commitments makes life a little harder.
After the excitement of posting “first day” photos wears off, routine sets in.
Carpools, music lessons, homework, getting everyone ready to rush out the door...it’s enough to wear anyone down.
That’s when it’s easy to lose sight of what’s important. That’s when the enemy whispers, “You don’t make a difference.”
He’s wrong.
You are shepherding eternal souls.
Don’t give up!
The tyranny of the urgent can push what’s important past the fringes of our attention.
Our vision can be so consumed with the day-to-day until there’s no space for long-term goals or ambitions.
But God has ordained that our children, eternal beings, be set in families.
Read the rest here: Sowing in Tears, Reaping in Joy
There are two ways to deal with the scars pain leaves behind: try to cover them up or display them boldly.
Hiding seems the easier way so many times-because the scars are tender and the last thing I want is to invite more pain. But it takes great effort and is rarely successful.
The edges peek out here and there and then I’m left awkwardly trying to explain how I got them and what they mean.
If I refuse to hide my scars and instead lay them open to the world, I am vulnerable, true. But I am also in a position to help others who are suffering the same pain that etched those scars in my heart.
Read the rest here: Choosing to Be a Lighthouse
We’ve all waited for something.
For those of us who carried a tiny life inside as it grew larger and larger and thought we might just burst open before he or she made an exit from the womb into the wide world, we know exactly how hard waiting can be.
We also know how fast waiting goes from “I’m not sure just when” to “it’s happening RIGHT NOW”.
Some of the most painful waiting is the hours of intense labor.
Before the blessed culmination, it hurts! A lot!
And then the beautiful fruit of all that pain, struggle and patience is in our arms.
Paul says that the whole creation (every single thing on the planet) is waiting in much the same way. Waiting, waiting, waiting for God’s perfect plan to reach fullness and be revealed in all its excellent glory.
Read the rest here: Scripture Journal Challenge: I’m Not The Only One Waiting
So I did something last week that was pretty big for me.
I went to the dentist-not once, but twice-AND I let him make some long-needed repairs to my neglected teeth.
For some folks this might seem like a silly bit of whiny sympathy seeking for the kind of every day healthcare I should be grateful for and not complain about.
But for me, it was HUGE.
I’ve never, ever liked having my mouth worked on.
Read the rest here: Everyday Brave
August is hot in the American South.
School has started and folks like to pretend fall is on the way but we who have lived here long know that’s just a fantasy.
I always have mounds to do and it’s still too hot to really be motivated to do it.
So it’s probably not surprising that the combination of reminders, reality and regret roll over my heart and lead to exhaustion.
❤ Melanie
This actually happened one day last week and I was too ashamed to post it. I’m better now. But it took three days to recover from that emotional, physical, psychological and spiritual low point.
It required that I extend the grace to myself I would extend to another.
That’s actually harder than it sounds for someone who prefers to think of herself as the “good girl” and the “strong one”.
There’s only so much a body can take in a day. And I’ve reached the limit.
Started out pretty good-up with the chickens and settled into my rocking chair with a cup of coffee and my journal.
But it didn’t last.
Read the rest here: Spent
I’ve written before about anxiety and child loss here. No matter the cause of death, the FACT of a child’s death seems to create the perfect conditions for a parent’s body and mind to experience anxiety, dis-ease, fear and often a sense of impending doom.
My world was rocked to its foundation the moment I heard the words, “He was killed in a motorcycle accident”.
The worst thing I could imagine had come true.
Read the rest here: Anxiety is Awful!
Today’s posts are pretty raw.
And that’s what I’ve tried to bring to this space again and again-an authentic and unfiltered portrayal of grief, grace, faltering and faith.
Five years ago I was sitting in an uncomfortable chair in an uncomfortable situation. I had NO idea how it would turn out.
But I’d had practice by then.
I’d learned to let the tears fall when they needed to, to plaster a smile on my face when I had to and to cling tightly to truth because, in the end, that was the only way I’d make it.
If you are hanging on to hope by the thinnest of threads, let me encourage you.
I won’t promise “light at the end of the tunnel” as if it will be OVER one day.
But I will promise light in the darkness if you refuse to let go.
“Follow Me,” Jesus said to the twelve.
“Follow Me,” Jesus said to me when I was just a child.
“Yes,” I replied-not knowing or counting the cost.
If it was a single commitment without opportunity for turning back then it would be easy.
But it’s not.
Read the rest here: Surrender
I belong to several online bereaved parents’ groups and they are truly a lifeline in so many ways.
I can speak my mind there without fear of rejection or correction or of hurting my non-bereaved friends and family. I learn from other parents farther along in this journey how they cope with birthdays, anniversaries, holidays and every day grief triggers.
Sadly, there are new members added daily. New parents are forced to join this “club” where the dues are higher than anyone would willingly pay.
Read the rest here: Grief Groups and Echo Chambers
I wish I could write openly about the things that are going on right now in my life, but I can’t.
So you’ll just have to trust me when I say these past months-really this past year-has been the most challenging since the first 365 days after Dominic ran ahead to Heaven.
I have cried more in the past three weeks than I have cried in the past three years.
Read the rest here: Transparent, Vulnerable, Scared
Before Dominic ran ahead to Heaven I didn’t cry much.
Since April 12, 2014 I’ve cried a river-tears for breakfast, lunch, dinner and into my pillow at night when I tried to fall asleep.
When sorrow overtakes a heart, it’s hard to think about anything else.
There was a very real danger that sadness would drag me down in a pit so deep I would never be able to crawl back out.
And then the enemy of my soul would win.
But God.
Read the rest here: Scripture Journal Challenge: Tears Won’t Last Forever
If you wonder if all these crazy emotions are normal in grief, the answer is a resounding, “Yes!”.
Grief is a ball of emotions any one of which may demand more or less of your attention on a given day. It’s not just sadness or missing or sorrow or even pain.
Read the rest here: Wondering If All These Crazy Emotions Are Normal In Grief? Yes. Absolutely.
I was recently told by someone that my world was tiny.
It hurt my heart.
Not because it is factually inaccurate but because the person who said it implied that distance traveled from my front door equaled responsibility and influence. If I don’t wander hither and yon, then I’m inferior. If I don’t have paid employment then whatever I do doesn’t “really” count.
I know many bereaved parents have been forced to scale back commitments, maybe change jobs or retire early, and, like me, lead a smaller life than before.
I’m here to tell you that’s perfectly OK.
Read the rest here: It’s Alright To Be Little Bitty
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