Since Dominic ran ahead I collect poems, sayings and quotes that help my heart put words to what it feels.
I consider each one a gift.
This is a beautiful, traditional Jewish blessing often shared with mourners.
Read the rest here: We Remember Them
Since Dominic ran ahead I collect poems, sayings and quotes that help my heart put words to what it feels.
I consider each one a gift.
This is a beautiful, traditional Jewish blessing often shared with mourners.
Read the rest here: We Remember Them
I mentioned yesterday that I’d be spending the weekend at a retreat with other bereaved moms.
I chose the theme, “Broken into Beautiful, because I believe with my whole heart there is no yin/yang dual universe where darkness has power enough to overcome the light. Sin mars creation and wreaks havoc but even all that awful is being woven together into a tapestry of beauty and usefulness that one day will display the glory of God and His love for us.
I also believe that one must make a choice to invite God to transform pain into purpose through His comfort, hope, strength and grace.
So we are settling in this morning with our coffee, Bibles, journals and sweet, sweet time to read about, talk about and digest the promises of God in Christ that can lead us faithfully through the Valley of the Shadow of Death.
We will be exploring prayer-choosing to engage even when we don’t have anything to say and don’t want to listen; perspective-learning to trust truth over feelings; perseverance-doing the next right thing no matter how long the journey; and purpose-sharing our stories for the good of others and to the glory of God.
We will chat over meals and craft times (even for the non-crafty!).
We’ve got a jig saw puzzle going.
We will enjoy afternoon walks on dirt roads, evening campfires and plenty of time to pray with one another in quiet corners.
Every time I gather with moms in these intimate settings, I’m amazed by how the Spirit moves and hearts receive some measure of healing.
I can’t wait to see what He does in us this weekend.
Today, five other bereaved moms will join me for a weekend retreat where we will share our stories, our children, laughter and tears.
Each of us brings something unique to the experience and each of us will walk away with something different to ponder in our hearts.But one of the things I’ve discovered over and over when bereaved parents get together is this: we ALL still (even after years, decades) need affirmation that what we are feeling, thinking and struggling with is absolutely, positively normal.
❤ Melanie
Do you want to know one of the most repeated questions in grief support groups?
It is, “Am I normal?”
In the midst of great loss,
in the middle of reconstructing a life that includes a giant hole,
while struggling to place one foot in front of the other,
parents who have buried a child are often worried about whether what they feel and how they act is “normal”.
Grieving a child is a complex and life-long process as I wrote about here: Am I Normal?
When your child leaves this world, your mind and heart work hard to extract hints of the coming tragedy from all kinds of random events.
For me, there were eerie parallels between how I experienced his birth and how I experienced the news of his death.Melanie
When Dominic was born by C-section, they placed the epidural too high and I was unable to feel my chest rise and fall as I continued to breathe.
It was a frightening experience.
Read the rest here: Broken Hearts Still Beat
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.
Read the rest here: Grief, Holidays and Hard Conversations
When I was forced into this life I didn’t choose, I had no model for how to navigate holidays post child loss. Not one Thanksgiving dinner nor Christmas morning of my life had been marred by the deep, dark MISSING that fills a bereaved parent’s heart.
So I muddled through, best I could, striving hard to embrace and accommodate my own and my family’s pain while managing expectations of those outside our immediate grief circle.
It was hard.
It was emotionally exhausting.
It still is, some days and seasons.
But if I’ve gained any wisdom from ten holiday seasons spent without Dominic, it’s this: Better to face it and make a plan than to ignore it and let things unfold willy-nilly.
I’m praying for you. Now. In October.❤ Melanie
I will confess: I’m no better at this than the first set of holidays after Dominic ran ahead to Heaven.
Every. Single. Year. has brought changes and challenges on top of the empty chairs round the family table.
Since Dominic left us we’ve had additions (two grandchildren and various significant others) and sadly, more subtractions (my mother joined Dom in 2019). We’ve dealt with distance, deployment, healthcare and retail work schedules, a pandemic and lots of other, less easily defined tensions and difficulties.
Read the rest here: So…Yeah, The Holidays.
I hid this post in my draft folder for months before I published it the first time.
It seemed too raw, too full of all the pain inside my mama heart to put out in the wide world for everyone to see.
And then it was time (like now) to change the flowers on the place where my son’s body rests and I couldn’t stand it anymore.

I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs, “THIS IS NOT ALL THERE IS OF MY BOY!” I wanted to stop people on the street and make them listen to his story, to give away a piece of him for others to carry in their hearts.

My son is not a number or a statistic or only a memory.
He is integral to my story, blood of my blood and flesh of my flesh–part of my life.
I rest assured he lives in heaven with Jesus but I miss him here with me. That’s selfish, I know. But I can’t seem to help it.
Read the rest here: You Existed, You Exist
It’s tempting to try to hide our tears and fears from our living children and grandchildren.
Who wants to overload a young heart and mind with grown-up problems?
There is definitely a place and time to shelter little people-it’s never appropriate to offload onto small shoulders what we just don’t want to carry ourselves.
But it is neither helpful nor healthy to pretend that sorrow and sadness don’t follow loss.
Read the rest here: Why It’s So Important to Model Grief For Our Children & Grandchildren