I’m ending Bereaved Parents Month by sharing this post because I still have moments when I marvel that I’ve survived. ❤
It was the question I asked the bereaved mother that came to my son’s funeral.
It was the question a mother asked me as we stood by her granddaughter’s casket, surrounded by family and flowers.
And it is the right question.
Because when the breath leaves the body of your child, and you look down at the shell that used to be the home of a vibrant, living soul, you simply can. not. breathe.
Read the rest here: How Do You Breathe?
I know most folks are doing the best they can to come up with something to say when both they and I know there’s nothing to be said.
So sometimes they fall into the trap of pointing out what I still have as if it makes up for what I’ve lost.
But there really, truly is no “at least” in child loss.
None. At. All. ❤
“At least you had him for 23 years.”
Yes, but I thought I’d have him for my whole life!
“At least you still have three other children.”
Yes, but which one of yours would you choose to do without?
Read the rest here: At Least?
It’s an old standby-before you criticize someone, walk a mile in their shoes.
But we rarely take time to do that.
Instead we look at another heart and assume that if they are struggling, it’s because they aren’t trying as hard as we might in the same circumstances.
Read the rest here: Walk A Mile In My Shoes
I’m pretty sure THIS holiday season will be different for a lot of folks. Fears surrounding the pandemic may force even the most ardent traditionalists to change their plans.
But some will still forge ahead with all the usual expectations.
So I wanted to share this post NOW while there is time for conversation and adjustment.
Trust me, waiting doesn’t make it any easier. ❤ Melanie
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
Grieving parents often face the additional challenge of trying to help their surviving children process the death of a sibling.
While there are many factors that influence how a particular child understands and works through his or her grief, age at time of bereavement plays a significant role.
Children’s grief can look very different than that of the adults around them.
And that grief may resurface later on as the child grows and matures, even long after the death of a loved one.
Read the rest here: Bereaved Parents Month Post: Sibling Grief Reactions By Age Group
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’ve learned so much in this journey.
I’ve had to unlearn some things too.
One of the things I’ve had to unlearn is that the medical model of “identify, treat, cure” is not applicable to grieving hearts.
Read the rest here: Companioning The Bereaved
I’m pretty sure that every single grieving parent I know has gotten at least one private message, text or phone call that starts like this, “I know that I haven’t lost a child, but…” and ends with some sort of advice that seeks to correct a perceived flaw in how the parent is grieving (in public) his or her missing child.
I know I did. It was the genesis of this post.
But before you hit “send” on that well-meaning missive, you need to know this:
You have NO CLUE.
No matter if you lost a spouse, parent, close friend or favorite pet-it’s not the same thing.
Read the rest here: Be Quick to Listen, Slow to Speak
I’m not blind to the danger social media poses to in-person friendship.
For lots of people with busy lives and messy houses it’s a no brainer to choose online companionship over face-to-face lunches, brunches or book clubs.
If I can curate my online presence to reflect only my brightest, funniest and most enviable moments (all from the comfort of home in my pajamas!), why not?
But social media isn’t all bad.
In fact, it can be very, very GOOD for lots of people.
It’s been a godsend for my heart.
Read the rest here: To The Friends I Haven’t Met Yet
Did the mother whose son died pray less or with less faith than the mother whose son lives?
We must be careful to remember that God is sovereign and while we are commanded to pray, our words do not dictate His actions.
He alone knows the end from the beginning. He alone is the Alpha and Omega.
Read the rest here: Prayer After Child Loss: What’s the Point?