I don’t get to choose.
I don’t get to plan the way life is going to be.
Oh, I bring out the calendar and mark down the days: birthdays, holidays, special events and obligations.
But then one dark morning a knock stops the clock and makes the world spin faster all at once.
I’m suspended and plunged under in the same breath.
Read the rest here: Not What I Had Planned
Most of the time I’m just kind of rolling along.
There are things to do, places to go, people to see, animals to feed.
I get up, get going and get on with it.
But there are some days that are what I call “Hard Stops” on this journey. They are the days that force my heart to take special notice of the fact that Dominic isn’t here.
Read the rest here: Hard Stops: When You Can’t Ignore the Missing
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
Grief is the price we pay for love.
Grief is an appropriate and proportionate response to the death (the end of earthly companionship) of someone we love.
If grief is small, what does that say about love?
It can’t be both ways.
Read the rest here: Can’t Have it Both Ways…
See, here’s the thing: to the outside world, my son’s death happened at a single point in time.
But to me, his death is a continuous event.
I must lift the cup of sorrow every day to parched lips. I must choose to take it to the One Who can help me lift it.
Jesus knows this cup.
He knows my pain: My Cup Overflows
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
thelifeididntchoose 