This post is for all the bereaved parents who wonder why the things that used to be easy are so. very. hard. now.
I kind of understood that the twelve months of “firsts” after Dominic left us would be difficult and draining. But I thought that having survived THOSE I’d be better equipped to do it again.
I was wrong.
Not only were milestone days and holidays just as hard, even everyday chores could be a challenge.
What used to be molehills were mighty mountains and I wasn’t in any shape to scale them. ❤
There’s a saying in the South, “You’re making a mountain out of a mole hill”.
It’s supposed knock sense into someone who is overreacting to a small and easily resolved problem. Most of the time it works-stepping back and gaining perspective is a good thing.
But I find that this side of Dominic’s leaving, many, many things that were mole hills before are MOUNTAINS now. Because my faith in my own ability to handle things has become so very small, nearly any challenge feels like a never-ending ascent up the mountain.
Read the rest here: Mountains and Mole Hills
I shared this post for the first time five years ago.
Before I was part of the community of loss parents, I had no idea how quickly we are expected to “move past”, “get over” or “deal” with the death of a child.
I was horrified to find out that even though most parents would say something like, “I just don’t know how I would survive if my child died” they were the very ones who thought I should sail past this life-shattering event after what they deemed an “appropriate” amount of grief and/or time.
So I’m sharing again in honor of Bereaved Parents Month. If these words speak to you or for you, please share them. It’s our opportunity to help others understand a little more about child loss. ❤ Melanie
It was just over a year after Dominic’s accident and a friend forwarded an article about odd behaviors of those who were “stuck’ in grief. Along with the forward was a little tag, “Reminds me of you.”
It hurt my feelings.
And it was inappropriate.
Read the rest here: I am NOT Crazy!
My son’s death is a moment in time, a date on the calendar, a thing of the past for other people.
I understand that.
But for me, it’s an ongoing event.
Every time Dominic SHOULD be here but isn’t I lose him again.
Read the rest here: “I Lost My Child Today” by Netta Wilson
It happens in all kinds of ways. One friend just slowly backs off from liking posts on Facebook, waves at a distance from across the sanctuary, stops texting to check up on me.
Another observes complete radio silence as soon as she walks away from the graveside.
Still another hangs in for a few weeks-calls, texts, even invites me to lunch until I can see in her eyes that my lack of “progress” is making her uneasy. Then she, too, falls off the grid.
Why do people do that?
Read the rest here: Why Friends Abandon Grievers
Grief brain is a real thing. And it’s scary.
In addition to everything else that falls heavy on a bereaved parent when they find out their child isn’t coming home, many (probably most) realize something is terribly, terribly wrong with their memory, their ability to concentrate, and their ability to navigate what used to be simple daily tasks.
I had experienced brain fog due to illness before Dom ran ahead to Heaven but that didn’t hold a candle to what I suffered when he left us.
I really thought I was going crazy.
I wasn’t. ❤ Melanie
I know her. In fact, I’ve known her for years. But please don’t ask me her name.
I have no idea.
It happens to all of us-meet someone in the store or at the Post Office and you just know you know them, but cannot-for the life of you-remember a name.
Chatting on, you search mental files desperately trying to make a connection you can hold onto. Five minutes after she walks away it pops up-oh, yes! That’s so-and-so from such-and-such.
Imagine if instead of searching mental files without success you can’t even find the file cabinet and start to wonder if one ever existed.
That’s what “grief brain” does to you.
Here are a few more examples of things that actually happened:
Read the rest here: Grief Brain: It’s a Real Thing!
The months roll by, the calendar pages turn, soon school will be back in session and you are still not here.
Sometimes I think I have figured out how to do these days that remain between now and when we will be together again.
And sometimes I realize that I haven’t.
Read the rest here: Keep On Keeping On
I absolutely understand that when people say things like, “Just think of all the wonderful memories you have” or “He brought you so much joy” they mean well.
Because it’s true-I have beautiful memories of Dominic. And he DID bring me great joy.
But I had those things BEFORE he was beyond my reach.
Read the rest here: But I Had All That BEFORE!
It took me a little while to realize that if I was going to survive this lifelong journey I had to make some changes in how and when I responded to requests to do something, be somewhere or participate in outside events.
Because no matter how worthy the request, there was only so much of me to go around and I was forced to spend nearly all my energy and time and effort on figuring out how this great wound was impacting me and my family.
I cannot overemphasize how much strength and energy is needed to do the work grief requires.
Read the rest here: Grace and Space
I have doubts some days too.
There are moments when suffering washes over me like a flood and I am swept under with the tide.
It’s then I cling tenaciously to the promise that my wounds, like Christ’s, will one day not only be proof of pain but also evidence of God’s redemptive power.
Read the rest here: On Suffering and Redemption
I’ll never forget one Christmas when I and some other moms organized a craft day for our preschool kids at a local church.
In our youthful enthusiasm, we thought doing homemade cards accented by glitter was a good idea. Boy, were we wrong!
Those bits of metallic bliss went everywhere-in hair, on clothes, in the carpet…we spent twice as much time trying to clean up as we spent making memories with the children. Never again!
So this quote about grief and glitter really struck home in my heart. ❤ Melanie
Every now and then I run across a quote or a meme that is perfect.
This is one of them.
Read the rest here: Grief Glitter, Tucked In Every Corner