I ran across this infographic awhile ago and LOVE how it puts things in an easy to see and easy to follow format.
It’s a great tool-not only for those grieving the loss of a loved one–but for anyone going through a rough patch.
Read the rest here: Bereavement: How Other People Can Help
I’ve often been the person who refused to go along with some group’s plan to ignore a real issue and try to talk around it.
I usually begin like this, “I know it’s hard to talk about, but let’s be honest and…”
I’m even more inclined in that direction now. If my son’s instant and untimely death has taught me anything, it’s taught me that there’s no use pretending.
So I’m not going to pretend: Western society doesn’t do grief well.
Read the rest here: The Elephant in the Room
Each day I am reminded by sights, smells, sounds and memories that Dominic is in Heaven and not here.
But there are moments and seasons when his absence is particularly strong-when I can’t breathe in without also breathing a prayer, “Father, let me make it through this minute, this hour, this day.”
And that’s when I need grace-from family, friends and strangers.
Read the rest here: A Little Extra Grace
Every time I tell the story of Dominic, it helps to keep him real.
It reminds my heart that he lived, that he mattered, that he matters still.
And in the telling, I am giving away a little bit of him for another heart to carry.
His light is passed to another soul that can pass it to another and another.
Read the rest here: Why We Have to Tell Our Stories & Why We Need Someone to Listen
Many of us pretty much skipped the holidays last year. That was actually kind of a nice break for some bereaved parents who were rescued from having to navigate family expectations while grieving the loss of a child.
This year looks like a lot of folks aren’t only embracing long-held traditions but also pulling out all the stops to make up for last year’s lackluster celebrations.
So I’d like to simply put this perspective out there.
While others feel liberated, the bereaved are still carrying the same load.
❤ 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
I write a lot about what bereaved parents (me!) wish others knew or understood about child loss and this Valley we are walking. And I am thankful for every person outside the child loss community who chooses to read and heed what I write.
But I want to take a minute to tell those of you who are not part of this awful “club” that I get it-I really do get it–when you need to put distance between yourself and me or other people walking a broken road.
Read the rest here: I Get It-I Really DO Get It.
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.
Grief is not a disease. It’s not an abnormality. It doesn’t need to be treated and cured so that it “goes away”.
It’s the perfectly normal and appropriate response to loss.
Read the rest here: Companioning The Bereaved
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
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
You’d think that seven YEARS would be time enough to adjust to missing my child, to the changes child loss and sibling loss have wrought in my family, to the awful, unavoidable giant HOLE left in every photo, every gathering, every holiday, every everything.
But it isn’t.
That’s largely why I’m still writing. It’s why I fill my social media profile with invitations to those who share my experience and reminders to those who do not (thankfully!!) that this continues to be the Life I Did Not Choose.
I’m not looking for sympathy, just raising awareness.
Because, really, isn’t the whole point of being human to try to make one another’s journey just a tad bit lighter?
❤ Melanie
Child loss rips through a life like a tornado-wild, unpredictable, viciously destructive.
It drops from the sky like a meteorite-no warning, no defense, just crushing weight.
Read the rest here: Child Loss: Friends and Family Can Anchor a Heart
thelifeididntchoose 