Tag: family

Child Loss and Holidays 2026: What IS Forgiveness?

Part of preparing for the holidays is getting ready to face folks who we might have successfully avoided the rest of the year.

Many times we choose not to include them in daily life because they have wounded us in the past or are continuing to wound us in the present.

It’s hard to forgive someone who doesn’t want to change or who isn’t even remotely interested in having a conversation about how they have hurt our heart.

But the truth is, forgiveness frees ME from the tyranny of waiting for THEM to be different.

So, in the hopes of helping others who, like myself, sometimes struggle with feelings of unforgiveness, I’m sharing a few posts I’ve written on the topic.

It’s an area I have to work on often and especially this time of the year when I am forced to rub shoulders with those I prefer to keep at arm’s length.


A few years ago someone asked me for my definition of forgiveness.

It caught me off guard.

She had been sharing details of a very painful situation with someone who is clearly intent on making her life difficult “just because”.

I had to think about it.

After a few seconds I told her that at its most basic level, I thought forgiveness was completely releasing another from the debt of making things right, making amends or changing in their intentions or behavior toward me.

And then I realized it was precisely what I thought even though I’d never framed it exactly like that before.

I’ve sat with my words for a several days now and I have a few more thoughts.

My definition may lack precision in terms of theology but it is absolutely congruent with lived experience.

It bridges the gap I (and many others) feel between what feels like real forgiveness (releasing the debt) and also still not trusting a particular individual enough to allow them in my life.


I can’t imagine a single soul walking in this world for very long without having at least someone wound them deeply. And it’s no good just trying to ignore the pain or paper it over or distract yourself from it. I eventually find it gnaws a hole in my heart.

When that happens, it’s necessary (for my own mental, emotional and spiritual health) to face it and deal with it.

That’s when the choice to forgive can release the energy that will otherwise be expressed in bitterness or anger or sarcasm or avoidance or unfulfilling and often harmful choices.

If I forgive-release another from the debt of making things right or making amends or changing in their intentions or behavior toward me-then I am no longer held hostage to what they do or don’t do, say or don’t say.

It is real and freeing.

Doing that, I can more accurately evaluate whether the individual is a safe one whom I can allow back into my life:

  • Is their behavior consistent?
  • Are their intentions good and loving or hurtful and mean?
  • Can I trust them?

You do not have to allow them back in if they are not worthy of that privilege.

So, so many bereaved parents have been wounded in so, so many ways.

Sometimes by those they love. Sometimes by strangers who contributed to the death of their child. Sometimes by others who have made it difficult or impossible to do the work grief requires.


Those that inflict the wounds may be repentant or they may not.

That’s outside our control.

But we all have the opportunity to make the choice to release the debt and free ourselves of the ongoing burden of caring whether they are sorry or not.

And that is work well done.

Child Loss and Holidays 2026: Life Adds Layers

This holiday season will be very different for my family.

Last year at this time, we were looking forward with great gladness to adding a new little girl to the two grandboys who already brought laughter and joy to our lives.

Holly arrived early-December 21st-but was doing well when we gathered around the Christmas tree, bleary-eyed, coffee in hand, to watch the boys tear through wrapping paper and squeal with delight.

Less than twenty-four hours later, Holly was life flighted to Dallas Children’s Hospital and everything had changed. By January fourth, she had joined Dominic in the presence of Jesus.

Christmas was already a bit of a tricky season for us because my daughter’s birthday is on the eighteenth. When she was young, I tried hard to disentangle her special day from the tinsel and lights of yuletide celebrations.

After Dominic ran ahead to Heaven, it became a reminder of the once unbroken family circle and the increasing distance between old memories and making new ones. Like other child loss and sibling loss survivors, we had to find a way to navigate this hap-hap-happy time when our hearts weren’t always in it.

Now we have deep sorrow woven directly into our Christmas season.

And once again, I’m reminded that life adds layers to loss.

No matter how much we may want it to stop, the world keeps turning. Days turn to weeks turn to years and each moment has the potential to scribe joy or pain across our hearts.

This year is going to be very, very different from any of the sixty-two I’ve lived through before. I’ll be sitting next to a son who not only said a too-soon “good-bye” to his brother but also was granted a tragically brief few days with his own beloved daughter.

My daughter-in-law joins me as a bereaved mother.

Their children join mine as bereaved siblings.

I’m not entirely sure how or even if we will celebrate beyond providing gifts for the youngsters.

I’m back at ground zero.

But what I know now that I didn’t know THEN-the first year after Dom left us-it this: We will survive.

Life doesn’t only add layers of loss.

It also adds layers of joy and moments of gladness.

This year will be hard but not every year will be AS hard.

So if you, like me, are bearing up under a fresh load of sadness, don’t give up.

Hold on.

I’m praying for both of us.

Child Loss and Holidays: Practical Ideas for Dealing With the Holidays

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.

If you have decided to make a Holiday Journal,  consider printing these ideas to put inside or copying out the ones that might be helpful for you.

Skip it.  

  • Sounds drastic and it is.  But for some families (especially if there are no small children involved) it is absolutely possible (and sometimes healing) to ignore all traditions and trappings associated with Thanksgiving and Christmas.
  • You might choose to serve others on these days by volunteering with a local organization offering meals to the homeless or disadvantaged in your community.
  • Take a holiday meal to hospital workers, police officers or firemen in your area.  You can do it anonymously or in the name of your child.

Consider traveling for the holidays.

  • On the first Thanksgiving after my son left us, we shared the weekend with our newly married son and his wife in another state.  It was the first time in my life I hadn’t spent the holiday with my parents.  It was still very hard, but helpful in a way.
  • Other families have chosen to rent a cabin or condo and have the same people involved but experience the season in another location.  Most try to choose a place with a natural focus for activity that isn’t all about the holiday-like skiing in the mountains or near a lake or beach.

Change how you do meals.

  • If your family traditions always include the same foods in the same house, you might want to eat the holiday meal in a restaurant instead.
  • You could swap up the timing of a meal-evening instead of noon or vice-versa.
  • Change up the guest list-include a few close friends along with family members (friends that understand your grief).  Sometimes it helps to have others not so affected by the loss in the mix.
  • If you have been the host but don’t feel like you can do it this year-definitely consider passing that to someone else.  And don’t feel guilty about it.
  • Include the missing family members at the table in some way. One bereaved mom wrote:  “My niece includes my  son and mom at events hosted in her home.  She sets a chair aside and places a photo in the seat and a commemorative bow on the chair back.”
  • Don’t make certain foods. I make giant plates of cookies but have not made shortbread cookies since my son left us.  It was his favorite and one of the few things that tempted him from his strict weight-lifting diet
  • Make your child’s favorites and enjoy eating them and sharing memories around the table.

Let others do the planning/cooking/communicating.

  • Explain to your family that you aren’t up to being the one to plan this year’s holidays.  Let someone else do it.  Participate if and when you can.  
  • Be kind, but stand your ground.

Make new traditions. 

  • If you go around the table at Thanksgiving saying, “I’m thankful for…“-it might not be something you can do this year.  That’s OK.
  • Light a candle for the missing child.  You might want to have those present share a favorite memory or you might simply want to have the candle create a silent presence.
  • Some families can’t bring themselves to use the same Christmas tree they used before loss so they get a new and/or different one.  Some don’t want a tree at all.
  • Some families have a separate tree full of ornaments or memorabilia for their missing child and use the main tree as usual for the rest of the family.
  •  “I have a separate tree for Z. . It’s filled with ornaments that remind us of him. They range from glass ornaments with his favorite candy inside to a Thomas the tank engine ornament. Collecting more ornaments for him as I’m out shopping for others helps me during this very painful time.”
  • Some families don’t hang any stockings while others hang them all, including the missing child’s.
  • Another family asks family members and friends to write a note to their son or share a favorite memory of him.  They place them in his stocking to be opened and read on Christmas Day.
  • “We asked everyone to do a random act of kindness in memory of our daughter and our friends’ son and to email it to us. We printed out all of the emails, put them in her stocking and read them as a family on Christmas morning. It was amazing to hear all of the lives touched as a result, and it took our focus off of our loss.”
  • My husband, children (all adults) and myself didn’t want to receive gifts from extended family the first year.  We still gave them, but asked that others refrain or give a donation in our son’s name.
  • Some families buy gifts that would be appropriate for another child the same age as their missing child (or the age they would be) and give them to  another child for Christmas.

Commemorate your child:  

  • Some bereaved parents put a Christmas tree with solar powered or battery powered lights on their child’s resting place.
  • Some parents take family photos and include a large photo of their missing child or a special family memento (like a stuffed animal or symbol on a shirt) to represent that child in the pictures.
  • Some families give donations in their child’s name to organizations that purchase Christmas gifts for needy families or food for families at Thanksgiving.
  • In some communities there is a “Blue Christmas” ceremony on December 21st each year in which families gather to remember lost loved ones with music, candles and sometimes a devotional message. Some are sponsored by local chapters of The Compassionate Friends.  If there is not one in your area, your church may be willing to host one.

Keep the same traditions:

  • For some families, keeping everything the same is the most comforting choice. Especially if there are young children involved, it may be the easiest way to go.
  • But feel free to ask for help.  If you are not up to shopping for children in the family, make a list, let someone else do it and wrap the presents for you. Or use an online shopping service (many offer gift wrap).
  • Same goes for holiday outings-maybe a good family friend or an extended family member could take the children this year and document it with photos.

Whatever you choose to do or not do, know that there’s no wrong way or right way.  

Be gentle with yourself-this is a hard road.  And a long one. 

Photo credit: State Farm via Visual hunt

Child Loss and Holidays 2026: What the Bereaved NEED From Family and Friends

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.

So I’m trying to make it easier on all of us.  

I’m trying to be brave and think ahead and offer up what I can to help you understand.

I’m not asking you to stuff your feelings.  But I am asking you to weigh your disappointment in things being different against my unfathomable sorrow in burying my child.

And this is what I need from YOU:

Acknowledge my loss.  It doesn’t matter if it has been a few months, a few years or even decades-every single time the whole family gets together, the hole where my child SHOULD be is highlighted.  Other people may have moved on, and I am stronger now than I was, but the missing is as hard today as it was the day he left.  I need you to acknowledge that even if you don’t understand it.

Be flexible.  Every day is different for me.  And even if we did a certain thing last year, it may not be something I want to repeat.  Life circumstances continue to evolve-living children grow and marry, grandchildren make their appearance, health issues may emerge and change physical capabilities-life keeps on regardless of loss.  So this year is DIFFERENT than last year.  For everyone.  If we all embrace flexibility, there’s less opportunity for breakage.  Rubber bounces.  Glass shatters.  I don’t want my loss to be the central focus, but it’s a huge part of my experience and I can’t ignore it.  Help me, please.

Give me space.  Grant space in the larger picture-don’t make showing up to every family event a “mandatory option”.  Understand that even with planning and the best intentions, I may wake up and realize that I. just. can’t. do. it.  Or I may come, but leave early.  And grant space in the details-if I walk out of a room, let me go.  It may be helpful for one person to check on me after a few minutes but don’t send the calvary to drag me back.  I don’t always want to detract from a gathering and I may need to cry, or gather myself, or just sit silently remembering my son.

Give me time.  Time by itself does not heal anything.  But time is a critical component of healing.  If this is the first holiday season after loss, don’t pressure me with artificial deadlines about what I want to do or whether or not I’m going to participate in this or that. And even if it’s not the first season, I still need time.  It will be the third set of holidays after my son’s departure and I’m still feeling my way in the dark.  Don’t force me to decide if I can’t.  Just go on with your plans.  If I can join in, I will.  If I can’t, then I won’t.  That’s the best I can do.  It’s how I have to live every single day right now.

Grant mercy.  I will mess up.  I will say things in the passion of loss that I regret.  Overlook it.  Don’t lash out or hit back.  My emotional tank is so empty sometimes that it’s a wonder I can still feel anything.  I am truly trying. Grant mercy.

Extend grace.  Grace is lavishing love on the unlovely. Forgiving when someone doesn’t ask for it.  Doing something for someone and not expecting anything in return.  Step up and step out in faith that loving me will help me heal.  Even when you can’t see that it makes a difference. Don’t stop.  Don’t withdraw.

Know that this is not what I would have chosen.

Child loss happened TO me.

It is out of my control.

And the calendar pages keep turning.  Every holiday season means another year gone without the companionship of the child I miss.

I want to continue to embrace life, to enjoy my loved ones, to make new memories.  But I need your help to make it happen.

Don’t abandon me now.

compassion is a choice

Child Loss and Holidays 2026: Hard Conversations

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.

If you have made a Holiday Journal like I suggested, then use a page to list all the people that are typically part of your family’s holiday plans-you might want to make subheadings by holiday (and there may be other special get-togethers your family observes, so include those).

That list is a starting point for the people you may need to communicate with about the upcoming holidays.

Don’t feel like you have to include each individual in a unique communication-you can focus on those who are “in charge” of the gatherings/traditions and request that they pass it along.

Here are some specific tips for reaching out:

Understand that they DO NOT understand.

  • I know that unless someone has experienced child loss themselves, they really do not understand what it feels like.  (You might choose to share this post to help them understand-just a bit:What Grieving Parents Want Others to Know)  
  • No matter how much they may want to, they cannot really feel what I feel.  I have to constantly remind myself of that.

Don’t wait.

  • The closer we get to those dates on the calendar the more likely that others will assume you are just going to continue the traditions.
  • Most people dislike change.  And they hate it even more when it is a last minute change.  So don’t delay in at least giving those affected by your plans a “heads up” that things won’t be the same this year.
  • On a practical note people may need time to change plans if they involve making travel arrangements.

Decide how you will communicate your message.

  • Do you want to speak to them (on the phone or in person)?  This choice allows for subtle communication through tone and inflection but also requires immediate response.  Very few people can say, “I need to think about this” before blurting an answer.  Sometimes verbal exchanges can escalate quickly.
  • Do you want to write your message (text, message, email)?  This choice allows for a delayed response, gives a record of what was communicated but leaves room for misinterpretation because tone and inflection are hard to indicate by written word.  Let your heart and past experience with the person(s) be your guide.  It may be that it’s best one way for some and another way for others.

Acknowledge their loss.

  • Regardless of the relationship of other family members to your missing child, they have lost something  and someone too. They may not feel my pain precisely, but they feel the pain of losing a grandson, nephew, cousin and they feel the pain of losing who I was before burying my child.
  • They need space and permission to express their loss.

Use “I” statements.

  • Don’t accuse.  Don’t bring up every bad memory from Thanksgiving and Christmas past. Start from today and say, “I feel like I cannot do all (or some or any) of these things for Thanksgiving and Christmas this year.”
  • Be as honest as you can be.  Feelings are not wrong.  What we do with them may be wrong or hurtful.  But it’s OK to say, “I just can’t do this right now” or “I don’t know how to do this without my child”.

Expect resistance.

  • People naturally hate change.  We develop relationship ruts and it takes a lot of energy to climb out of them.  They may very well find great comfort in keeping things as “normal” as possible after your loss.
  • What is helpful for you may feel threatening to them.
  • Stand your ground without being combative.  You can say something like, “I understand this is very hard on you, and I am sorry that this is painful, but it’s just how it needs to be for me and my family to continue to heal.”

If you can, offer an alternative.

  • In subsequent posts I’ll share some ways other bereaved parents have approached the holiday season.  Maybe one of those ideas will appeal to you and you can offer it as an alternative to the way things were before loss.
  • You might suggest that extended family continue traditions they cherish and you join in for the part you feel you can endure.

Extend grace.

  • Assume the best.  Assume that your extended family and friends are trying to understand and do not want to add to your burden or cause you pain.  Re-read messages with an ear to what hearts are saying even when the words may fail to communicate that message.
  • Ask for clarification before you react. There is so much room for misunderstanding around holiday plans anyway and when you add loss to the mix, it can be a recipe for relational disaster.
  • Allow time before responding to something that hurts your feelings.  It may very well have been unintentional.

I know that all these suggestions require additional emotional energy when we feel we are already tapped out.  We are already carrying a load that can crush a spirit-it seems unfair that we have to initiate the conversation, offer alternatives and give grace.

But they do not understand.

And they may not know where to start.

We have to remain focused on the goal:  Surviving the holidays.

If your family includes young children, how you approach this season is even more important.  You are building memories for them, shaping their childhood experiences and helping them learn to cope with what will be a life-long challenge-living with grief.

Child

Child Loss and Holidays 2026: So Yeah…Here Come the Holidays

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 over a decade of 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.

When I ran across this quote awhile back my heart screamed, “YES!!!”

Gathering an entire family (which may include teens and young adults) for any extended length of time is a feat of scheduling, negotiation, and preference management. International treaties have been worked out in fewer steps. The sheer number of details that have to line up is mind-boggling.

Elizabeth Spencer

There are the absolute parameters forced upon any family by distance and availability. Negotiating THOSE is truly a feat.

But when your family story includes profound loss, a mama often has additional hoops to jump through. Surviving siblings bring their own grief to the table and what that looks like can change over time. So something that worked one year might be rejected this season.

I wish I had some magical insight that could guide every wounded heart through these next, treacherous months.

I don’t.

What I can tell you is that it’s better to start earlier rather than later. Nothing falls into place without some planning. Old habits are hard to break and traditions are well-worn habits so don’t expect anyone to give them up easily.

No one can read your mind (are YOU telepathic?). Tell your friends and family what you need (even if it is that you have NO idea what you need!).

And then make space in your celebrations for times when you can grieve the absence of your child. It may be a shared moment or it may be you remember in solitude.

If you have surviving children, remember they are grieving too. They have lost a sibling, their innocence regarding death’s ability to steal even the young and the family they once knew.

Extend grace to others when you can.

Extend grace to yourself when you must.

Be honest and do the best you can.

Then remember that even these days are only twenty-four hours long. They will pass.

The sun will rise and you will, undoubtedly find out you survived.

Grief Work 2026: Making Space for Siblings to Grieve

Child loss is also often sibling loss.  

In addition to their own heartache, bereaved parents carry the heartache of their surviving children.  

The family everyone once knew is now a family no one recognizes.  Hurting hearts huddle together-or run and hide-and it is so, so hard to find a way to talk about that pain. 

There is definitely a time and place for professional counseling.  Many, many families benefit from having a trained individual, outside the immediate grief circle, guide them in exploring feelings, developing coping strategies and learning to live life this side of loss.

But there is also something to be said for arranging casual open-ended activities with surviving siblings, parents and even grandparents where space and a more relaxed atmosphere often leads to honest sharing.

This graphic has lots of excellent suggestions for how to craft such a space.

Not all will be suitable for every family, but every family should be able to find a few that fit.

I’ll add these guidelines that may help your family make the best choice for YOU:

  • Don’t force it.  If you make an offer of an activity and it drops with a thud to the ground, let it go.  You might be able to do it another time.
  • Don’t make it (what my kids like to say!) a “mandatory option”.  There must be no guilt or coercion invading this space.  If one or more of your family members consistently refuse to join in, consider asking a close family friend to take that individual out alone and see what might be going on.
  • If you choose a movie or other story-themed activity, LOOK UP THE PLOT!  I can’t tell you how many times we were sideswiped by a death scene or some other heavy emotional plot twist.  There may be a time when your family is prepared to experience those things together (we can now) but it may not be yet.
  • Mix and match more structured activities with open-ended ones like walks outside, watching the sunset, sitting on the beach, hanging at the pool, playing a game (not too competitive-that will sometimes bring out hidden anger).
  • If you have a family with a broad range of ages you might have to do some things with the littles and some with the older kids.  You can always add one or two activities a month or quarter where everyone (or as many as are available) gets together.
  • If your children, spouse, parent or other close griever begins to talk-let them.  If tears flow-that’s progress!  If ugly feelings are expressed, listen.  Try not to be defensive.  Try to hear the hurt behind the words.  It’s OK to set ground rules like using “I” statements and not blaming.  But don’t shut them out or shut them down.  

These are just ideas.  

Google is your friend and your phone is probably already in your hand or pocket-use it.

Find things that fit YOUR family. 

The only way through is through.  

You have to feel and deal to heal.  

selfcare for families

Understanding Bereaved Parents Month

There are so many competing causes it’s a wonder anyone can keep up with them.

But when one or more of them become near and dear to your heart, it’s easy.

July is Bereaved Parents Month. A designation I knew nothing about until several years into my own journey as a bereaved parent.

And while I’m unsure about the necessity for declarations like National Trivia Day or National Bubble Wrap Appreciation Day I am absolutely convinced of the need for Bereaved Parents Month.

This is why: Child loss is unlike any other loss a person may experience. It is out-of-order death, unnatural, unexpected and unfathomable.

Every day, bereaved parents are walking in the world, going to work , doing all that life requires and often caring for their other children while carrying a very heavy burden that mostly goes unnoticed.

Many parents desperately want to speak about their missing child but feel constrained by fear others will think they are vying for sympathy or attention. Sometimes they don’t say anything because they’ve been shamed or shushed by negative comments on their social media posts. Still others are longing to find a community where their uniquely painful experience is understood.

Bereaved Parents Month is an opportunity for these parents to share their child with the world without fear or condemnation.

It’s a chance to post articles, information and personal experience that can help those outside the circle of child loss understand the ongoing struggle of walking this path.

Hopefully it is also a season where newly bereaved parents can find resources so their own hearts feel heard, understood and encouraged.

So if you ARE a bereaved parent, please take advantage of this month set aside to raise awareness of our journey.

If you LOVE a bereaved parent, please acknowledge and affirm your friend or family member who may choose to share in person or online a little more freely this month.

Hearts hold on best when they are free to tell their story.

Bereaved Parents Month is set aside for us to tell ours.

The Healing Power of Compassion: More Than a BandAid

God bless the inventor of Band Aids!

That little tacky plaster has soothed more fears and tears than almost any other invention in the world.

Skinned knee?  Put a BandAid on it.

Bee sting?  BandAid.

Tiny bump that no one can even see?  Oh, sweetie, let me give you a BandAid.

Simply acknowledging pain and woundedness is so often all that is needed to encourage a heart and point it toward healing.

It’s the same in the world of emotional, psychological and spiritual wounds.

But we have yet to invent the BandAid for those.

band aid and heart

Instead, frequently we ignore, refute, minimize and pass over the one in our midst who holds out a hand or a heart saying, “I have a boo boo.”

compassion and stay with you

Believe me, I understand-so many of these wounds are incurable, they are uncomfortable to think about, hard to look at.

But often the only thing the hurting heart wants is acknowledgement, a moment of time, a face turned full into theirs, eye-to-eye and unafraid to remain alongside through the pain.

Just as a BandAid bears witness to the wound underneath, our compassionate presence can bear witness to the deeper wounds no one can see.

When we choose to lean in and love, to listen and learn, to walk with the wounded we give a great gift.

compassion is a choice

This Little Light of Mine: An Update From my Heart

When I started writing in this space over ten years ago, I never expected any but a few close friends and family to read my ramblings.

It was a complete surprise to realize my words struck a chord with a wider audience.

My corner of the Internet is still very small compared to today’s mega-influencer types, but it is near and dear to my heart and I want to give you an update on how life is going, where I feel the Lord is leading me and what I hope to do in the next few months.

As most of you know, my father suffered a significant stroke in mid-September, 2025. And as all my bereaved parent friends are aware, ANY new stressor is magnified by the grief we continue to carry regardless of how long it’s been since our child went to Heaven.

I was completely consumed with his care until mid-December when I was able to break away and be with my son and his family to welcome the birth of their third child, a little girl named Holly.

Sadly, her earthly sojourn was short and on January 4, 2026-just two weeks after her birth-Jesus welcomed her to Heaven.

Our hearts were devastated and broken.

I had only a couple of days home before I returned to my father who had to have eye surgery that turned into a five week ordeal when in order to save his lower left eyelid, his left eye was sown shut for over a month. Vision in his right eye had been cut in half by the stroke and further impacted by a cataract.

It was a tough time.

I won’t give you a blow-by-blow of the days and weeks since then except to say this: I have spent only thirty percent of nights in my own bed for eight months. For a homebody, this is HUGE.

Lately I haven’t been thriving.

So I’m employing all my creative energy in trying to figure out how to remain engaged with ministry (which is my heart) and still meet the needs of my hurting and healing family.

Which brings me to this update.

I think the best way to use whatever moments I can steal from overwhelming obligations is to comb the archives of the blog and try to assemble some printed resources. People have encouraged me to do this for years but I’ve never been willing or able to focus on the project when it was so much more exciting to to keep writing, sharing and having retreats.

I hope to keep showing up here when I can and giving myself permission to skip days when I can’t.

I would like to learn more about creating video resources (both short and longer format) to make material more accessible to more people.

The heartacheandhope.org website needs updating. I want to have a drop down menu highlighting not only my own content but that of other excellent ministries and individuals who can help bereaved parents steward their grief well.

Someone recently asked me the “why” of what I do and I replied:

I don’t want any bereaved parent sitting in darkness to feel like darkness is all there is.

My candle is small but even the smallest candle in the black night of child loss is enough to help guide a heart to hope.

My candle IS small.

It’s light has definitely diminished of late.

But it’s still lit and I’m determined to keep it that way as long as I can.