Repost: I Don't Want To Know The Future

Many years ago my grandparents had a lovely Fiftieth Anniversary Celebration with family and friends.

My dad videotaped it and the tape was full of fun moments where my grandmother was smiling, laughing and having a wonderful day.

It was a short time afterward that she began to show signs of dementia and not very long after that she left us.

We watched the videotape a year or two after her leaving and I thought, “What a mercy she didn’t know what was coming!”

Those moments were full of unadulterated joy because a sorrowful future was hidden from her heart.

Read the rest here: https://thelifeididntchoose.com/2016/11/29/i-dont-want-to-see-the-future/

Bereaved Parents Month Post: Why, “Just Think About All the Good Memories,” Doesn’t Comfort My Heart


I pull out the memories like treasures from a locked strongbox.

“Handle With Care” because they are all I have left.

But they are not enough.

They will never be enough to satisfy this mama’s heart.

We are supposed to have to remember our elders, our grandparents, even, maybe our spouse at some point-but not our children.

Read the rest here: https://thelifeididntchoose.com/2018/11/15/why-just-think-about-all-the-good-memories-doesnt-comfort-my-heart/

Bereaved Parents Month Post: Nagging Guilt in Child Loss

It came up again just the other day-a mama was lamenting her son’s death and listing all the ways it might have been her fault.

It’s natural to go down that path.

But it’s unfruitful. Because none of us are omniscient or omnipresent or omnipotent.

I should have known.  I should have been there.  I should have called, texted, spoken one more warning or given one more hug.

Should.  Should?  Should!

wistful woman looking out wet window

I have yet to speak to a bereaved parent who does not harbor guilt of some kind over the death of his or her child.

Not one.

Read the rest here: https://thelifeididntchoose.com/2018/03/10/nagging-guilt-in-child-loss/

Child Loss: Finding Courage to Face the Future

I think it was somewhere around two months from Dominic’s departure when my heart realized life was moving forward whether I granted permission or not.  

Not only folks on the fringes and the “bigger world out there” but close by-in my own family, my own circle of intimate friends-people were making plans, having birthdays, going places and doing things.  

I wanted to scream.  

Could the world not take more notice that it was absolutely NOT business as usual?  Was I the only one whose heart was so shattered that the thought of another sunrise was painful?  How could I walk into a future that didn’t include Dominic?

By the grace of God, I did it.  

No one can keep the world from turning, the sun from rising, time from ticking by.  

But it took a great deal of strength and courage.  

takes strengtht to let life pull you forward through grief

First it was a “grin and bear it” kind of courage.  I strapped on my armor and tucked a hankie in my pocket.  I could show up and smile (a bit), talk (awhile) and muddle through.

Sometimes it didn’t go so well.  I had to apologize and leave early.  And I was always exhausted.  

exhausted-over-trying-to-be-stronger-than-i-feel

Then it was an “I’m going to be present for my family” kind of courage.  The last thing I wanted to do was shortchange my earthbound children.  I worked to get a better handle on my thoughts and emotions.  I learned how to pre-grieve major events and milestones.  I found I could bring Dom with me by wearing a meaningful piece of jewelry or tucking a keepsake away where I could touch it if I needed to.

I was able to laugh (most of the time), make small talk and write dates on the calendar again.  

calender

Now the courage that helps me hold on as I’m pulled forward into the future is informed by the fact that every passing day is one day closer to the reunion my heart longs for.  What first seemed impossible is now habitual.  Sorrow and joy can coexist.  I don’t have to be empty of one to feel the other.  The future is not my enemy-it’s where I can and will love ALL my children, husband, family and friends well until the day we are in eternity together forever.

love is courage

My love for Dominic is Background Music to everything I do.  But it doesn’t always demand my full attention.  Sorrow is no longer all I feel and Dominic’s absence no longer all I see.  

 

handprint on my heart

Sunrise is still hard to face some days.  

My heart will always long for the time things were as they should be instead of how they are.  

But I’m thankful for the courage to step into the future even when I’m afraid.  

 

sometimes-fear-does-not-subside-and-you-must-choose-to-do-it-afraid

Repost: The Mercy of Not Knowing

I participate in a number of online support groups for bereaved parents.

And one topic that makes the rounds at least once a week-often once a day-is how those outside our experience cannot truly understand our experience.

Because it’s true-you THINK you can imagine the pain of child loss if you have children, but even the most vivid imagination can’t conjure the utter blackness that waits on the other side of hearing, “Your son is dead.”

Read the rest here:  The Mercy of Not Knowing

Keep on Keeping On

One of the challenges in this journey as it lengthens into years is that it is just so DAILY.

life is just so daily

Milestone dates and holidays aside, most of the time I’m just a woman trying to make it through 24 hours at a time.  I’m just doing all the things life requires without letting grief overwhelm me.

I’ve gotten pretty good at it too.  

Sorrow is no longer all I feel and my son’s absence is no longer all I see.

I laugh as well as cry.  I look forward to my living children joining me around the table.  I anticipate changing seasons and plan holiday meals again.

But much of my time is spent plodding faithfully forward to a future I cannot see and a reunion I long for.  

Maybe it’s because I’m only at four years but I haven’t yet recovered a sense of excitement about the future no matter what wonderful event might be waiting on the calendar.

I cannot recapture joyful anticipation.  

The best I can do is not be afraid of what might be around the corner.  

And keep on keeping on.  

never, never never give up

The Reality of Ongoing Grief in Child Loss

 

One of the most difficult things to explain to anyone who has not buried a child is this:  I didn’t just lose Dominic ONCE, I continue to lose him.

dom looking up with camera

I lose him every single time there is a moment when he SHOULD be here but isn’t.

I lose him when his friends graduate, get married and have children.

I lose him again on Christmas morning when HIS face isn’t around the breakfast table and HIS name isn’t on the presents around the tree.

I lose him when I need to call and ask a question about my computer or need his opinion when trying to make a decision.

I lose him when everyone else is making their way home for the holidays or a birthday or just a visit-his car never rolls up the lane, his smiling face never emerges, his arms never reach out to wrap me in a bear hug.

I lose him when his siblings line up for photos-the space where he SHOULD be but ISN’T looms large.

photo-36

I will never know the joy of standing at his wedding.

I will never be able to congratulate him on his first court victory.

I will never see his children

I won’t have his companionship in my old age.

He is gone-out of reach.

Untouchable.

Lost.

 

i will always wonder what you would have been