grace – Page 22 – thelifeididntchoose

Grief and Grace:What I Need from Friends and Family

You cannot possibly know that scented soap takes me back to my son’s apartment in an instant.

You weren’t there when I cleaned it for the last time, boxed up the contents under the sink and wiped the beautiful, greasy hand prints off the shower wall. He had worked on a friend’s car that night, jumped in to clean up and was off.

He never made it home.

So when I come out of the room red-eyed, teary and quiet, please don’t look at me like I’m a freak.

Please don’t corner me and ask, “What’s wrong?” Or worse-please, please, please don’t suggest I should be “over it by now”.

If you were reading a novel or watching a movie, you’d show more grace.

You would nod in understanding as the main character made choices that reflected the pain of his past. You would find his behavior perfectly predictable in the context of a life lived with a broken heart.

I can’t control what makes me cry. I can’t stop the memories flooding my mind or the pain seizing my heart.

I might be OK one minute and the next a blubbering mess. Grief doesn’t mind a schedule.

But there are some things you can do to help:

If you are aware of the circumstances around my child’s death, be thoughtful when highlighting similar situations in conversation, in movie choice, in recommending books or news stories. I bump into reminders all the time, I don’t need to have them forced upon me.
It can be particularly hard to celebrate milestones in another child’s life when that child is about the same age as the one I buried. Feel free to invite me, but give grace if I choose not to attend a birthday, graduation or wedding. I’m doing the best I can and I don’t want to detract from the celebration so sometimes I bow out.
Ask me if, or how, I would like my missing child included in family gatherings. Sometimes I want his memory highlighted and sometimes I want to hold it close like a personal treasure. It might be different one year to the next. Just ask.
Be sensitive to the calendar. Make a note of my child’s birthday, heaven day, date of the funeral or memorial service-these are important dates for me and they will be as long as I live. In the first months, maybe for years, each month is a reminder that I am that much further from the last time I heard his voice, hugged his neck or saw his living face. Those days are especially hard.
Don’t pressure me to move faster in my grief journey. And don’t interpret a single encounter as the measure of how I’m doing. Be aware that it is often a two-steps-forward-one-step-back kind of experience. It is MY experience and will go as fast or as slow as it does. I can’t even hurry it along even though sometimes I am desperate to do so.
Understand that the things I may share don’t paint a total picture. There are pains too deep, thoughts too tortuous, experiences surrounding my son’s death and burial too hurtful for me to speak aloud.

I admit that I never thought of any of these things until it was MY son missing.

But now I think about them all the time–not only for my sake, but for the sake of others like me. I try to walk gently and kindly, extending grace and love.

And honestly, that’s really all I want from anyone else-grace, abundant grace.

I will be weepy when it’s inconvenient. I will react when you can’t fathom why. I will stay away when you want me to come near. I will make choices you don’t understand.

I am truly sorry.

But child loss is not something I chose for myself, it was thrust upon me.

I am walking this path the best I know how.

When you extend grace and love me through the roughest places it makes all the difference.

Thanks for Listening!

One year ago today I began sharing my grief journey publicly on this blog.

You can read that first post here.

It was (and still is) scary to expose my thoughts and feelings to a wider audience than just the pages of my personal journal.

I’m never certain that what is helpful for me is necessarily helpful for anyone else. But in writing it down I find that I am able to sort through things better than when I leave it bouncing around in my own head space.

I decided upfront that I would be as honest as possible about what I felt and how I was coping. I wasn’t sure if I would post only a few times or a lot, if it would turn into a day-by-day diary or a more sweeping revelation of deeper things.

I think it’s kind of been both at times.

And here we are, 366 days (it was a leap year) and 355 posts later and I’m still here and you’re still listening.

I don’t claim to have any special gifting or knowledge or ability. I am simply one mama whose love for both her child in heaven and her children still here demands that I speak out.

My heart is full of love and pain.

And my heart has been blessed beyond measure by those who read and share what I have written. I’ve met-in person and virtually-many bereaved parents who are helping me as I continue down this road.

I am so very thankful for each one.

I pray that for those who read these words and know the pain of burying a child, I am speaking things you may think or feel but are not willing or able to express.

And I pray that in hearing them spoken aloud, you are affirmed and encouraged that you. are. not. alone.

Dominic matters.

Your child matters.

It’s not only OK but absolutely necessary to admit that life after child loss is a struggle. It is also just fine to take your time working through the pain and sorrow and overwhelming changes child loss brings.

For those who read my posts and do not share this pain, I pray you gain insight into what bereaved parents feel and how burying a child changes EVERYTHING.

I hope you are better equipped to offer the ongoing support we need and crave. I hope you learn that this is not something we have chosen, it is something that happened to us.

And I pray that all of us will be more willing to extend grace, mercy and love to one another.

Words are not neutral.

They bring life or death.

They wound or heal.

May each of us be an instrument of healing for someone’s hurting heart.

Practical Ideas for Dealing with the Holidays after Child Loss

This is the fourth in a series on making plans for the holidays after loss.

Yes, it’s early and no, you might not want to think about them-it’s really hard to imagine Thanksgiving and Christmas without the child you love. BUT, the days will come whether we want them to or not. Here’s some help to navigate them.

If you missed the first three posts you can find them here:

Grief and Holiday Plans: Working Out the Details

Grief, Holidays and Hard Conversations

Grief and Holidays:What the Bereaved Need From Friends and Family.

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

Grief and Holidays:What the Bereaved Need From Friends and Family

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.

A Few of My Favorite Things

When I had a child, suddenly I cared about everything. When I lost a child, suddenly I cared about nothing.

~ a bereaved mother

When I read this comment, I thought about it for a moment to see if it was true for me.

And I realized that, yes, it WAS true at the very beginning.

Mind-numbing pain and soul-crushing agony pressed down so heavily that I couldn’t care about anything other than reminding myself to

BREATHE.

In.

Out.

Repeat.

A bit over twenty-eight months have passed and my body, mind and spirit are stronger.

The pain is still great, but I am better able to bear it now.

My heart is bigger because I suffer and it is softer toward those who also suffer.

Trials make great room for consolation. There is nothing that makes man have a big heart like a great trial. I have found that those people who have no sympathy for their fellows, who never weep for the sorrows of others very seldom have any of their own. Great hearts could be made only by great troubles.

Charles Spurgeon

Now I care much more deeply about a few, select “things”.

The ones I can take with me into eternity:

People

And love

And grace

Forever in heaven with Jesus.

A Little Extra Grace

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.

Anyone who knows ANYONE that lives with loss knows that Thanksgiving, Christmas, birthdays and remembrance days are sure to be especially hard for those left behind.

What some may not know is that there are other, hidden, pitfalls on this journey through the Valley of the Shadow of Death.

For many bereaved parents the beginning of the school year is one of them.

Even though my son was long past school age when he left, that shiny penny newness and promise of another year of school, another step toward maturity and the rest of life, another marker on the road to what every parent hopes will be a beautiful future is a painful reminder that my child won’t be doing anything new here on earth.

And a little extra grace goes a long way toward making this season easier to endure.

A bit more patience as I walk slowly across the parking lot, lost in thought and unaware you are behind me trying to get on with life or park your car.
A smile when I accidentally bump my cart into yours in the grocery aisle-having just passed his favorite food or smelled coffee and been instantly transported to his finicky passion for all things caffeine
Calm responses when I jump to conclusions, cut you off mid-sentence or answer a query with a less-than-kind tone of voice.

Want to be especially encouraging to a parent missing their child in heaven?

A text or message or a “thinking of you” card can turn a dismal day into one full of sunshine.
Do you have a special memory or memento you could share? What a gift!

If you see us in these next few days and weeks as thoughts and hearts turn from summer to a new semester, be patient-we are once again reminded that our child’s earthly story has ended.

It’s a hard truth to embrace.

Every. time.

Move On Already!

How long has it been? A year, two, eighteen or twenty-five?

When. are. you. going. to. move on?

Aren’t you over talking about their birth story, their childhood, their school years, their spouse, children, moves and career? How many funny stories or sad recollections do I have to listen to?????

I mean, really-it’s been soooooooooo00 long since they were BORN!

Sound’s ridiculous, doesn’t it? It IS ridiculous.

We don’t expect parents to “move on” or “get over” their living children.

Why, why, why do we expect parents to move on or get over the ones they’ve had to bury?

My love for each of my children, on earth or in heaven, is life-long.

I wrote about it here: Love: The Reason I Grieve

Can’t Hide the Ugly

Yesterday I was impatient and ugly with someone I love.

When you are hurting, physically or emotionally or physically AND emotionally, you just don’t have the energy to hide the ugly.

But the pain didn’t create the ugly-it just revealed it.

And I am sorry to say that even burying a child did not cleanse me of some ugliness I wish I didn’t have in my heart.

I keep asking God to fill me with His love, mercy and grace. And I am more full of those things than before.

But there is still plenty of (if not hate then) less-than-love, judgement and impatience. Trials don’t automatically lead to refinement or stronger faith.

Tribulation can drive someone away from God as easily as it can drive them to their knees.

If I’m not careful-if I’m not very careful-I can use my pain as an excuse for all kinds of bad behavior.

So I’m here to confess: I am so, so sorry.

I’m sorry that when my glass gets tipped, anger and bitterness spills out. I’m sorry that I’m not more faithful to extend grace when I hope grace will be extended to me. I’m sorry that speaking truth so that I prove my point and wound a heart is sometimes more satisfying than speaking truth in love.

I wish every deed I did and every word I spoke was full of life and never full of death.

I hate death. I. HATE. death.

It has taken enough from me. And I want no part of it.

Father, I want to be a beacon of light and life. Lord, make me so. Fill me to overflowing with YOUR love, YOUR life, YOUR grace, YOUR mercy. Left to myself I have no hope. But by Your Spirit, it can be so.

When all kinds of trials and temptations crowd into your lives my brothers, don’t resent them as intruders, but welcome them as friends! Realise that they come to test your faith and to produce in you the quality of endurance. But let the process go on until that endurance is fully developed, and you will find you have become men of mature character with the right sort of independence. And if, in the process, any of you does not know how to meet any particular problem he has only to ask God—who gives generously to all men without making them feel foolish or guilty—and he may be quite sure that the necessary wisdom will be given him.

James 1:2-5 PHILLIPS

Monday Musings: What is Required?

I am a strong proponent of reading ALL of the Bible, considering Scripture in context, studying entire books and digging deep to mine the truth contained therein.

But I think sometimes I am so enamored of finding something new I forget what I’ve already learned.

It’s easy to remain in pursuit of truth and yet dismiss the truth that I’ve apprehended.

I can fool my heart into thinking that learning is the same thing as living.

But it’s not.

Someone said that if believers in Christ put into practice a tiny fraction of what they already know, it would change the world.

And that’s exactly what happened in the first three centuries after Jesus walked the earth.

Christ followers lived such radical lives that even though they were tortured, killed and forced to flee, the Gospel spread like wildfire throughout the known world and beyond. Seeds were planted that continue to bear fruit, even today.

Rome was just as corrupt, just as sensual, just as political as our country today. And Christians weren’t just mocked, they were killed.

But something happened when the church became a close companion of culture.

Gospel teaching began to lose its tranformative power when the powers that be tried to use the power of God to further political agendas.

We aren’t the first generation to look around dismayed by the impotence of the church to impact our world.

Like Solomon said, “There is nothing new under the sun.”

God hasn’t changed.

The Gospel is still Good News. The power of His Word to open eyes, embolden hearts and transform lives is as effective now as it ever has been.

But I must DO what is required. I cannot read the Word and walk away.

I cannot check off a daily devotion and live my daily life unchanged.

When my walk matches my talk, I become a faithful witness to the life-changing power of grace.

The Old Testament prophet Micah created a short list:

He has told you, O man, what is good; And what does the Lord require of you Except to be just, and to love [and to diligently practice] kindness (compassion), And to walk humbly with your God [setting aside any overblown sense of importance or self-righteousness]?

Micah 6:8 AMPC

I’m committed to start right here: Do justly, love mercy and walk humbly with my God.

Prayers I Still Pray, Last Installment

Months ago, in my first post about prayer, I spoke to the difficulty of praying while experiencing great pain. In Praying Through the Pain I wrote:

I am thankful that before Dominic died I had a habit of praying and reading Scripture. I am thankful for the many verses that are so ingrained in my thoughts that they come, unbidden to my mind.

So I have continued to pray each morning, opening my journal and my Bible.

Even when I cannot feel the connection, I know God is there.

Today’s post is the final in a short series where I am sharing the prayers I still find easy to pray even after burying a child.

If you comb through the New Testament looking for prayers, you find that they don’t look like the ones we hear most often in church-most New Testament prayers focused on expanding a believer’s knowledge of who they are in Christ and Who Jesus is to them.

Based on Scripture, I can ask in faith, speaking God’s words back to Him.

THESE are prayers I can still pray, I hope they are helpful for others in similar circumstances.

II Thessalonians 1: 11-12

God, I pray

that You will count____worthy of Your calling,
that by Your power You may fulfill every good purpose in ___’s life and every act prommpted by their faith.
I pray this so that the name of our Lord may be glorified in ___and they in You, acccording to Your grace.

I Thessalonian 1:2-9

I always thank You, Father, for ___, as I bring them to You in prayer,

Continue to stir up in them

work produced by faith,
labor prompted by love, and
endurance inspired by hope in our Lord Jesus Christ.

Cause ____to know that they are loved by You and especially chosen of You.

Cause the gospel to take root in their lives and go forth from them

not in words only,
but also with power,
with the Holy Spirit, and
with deep conviction.

Cause___

to keep their eyes on the Lord Jesus and become imitators of Him,
to have joy as only the Holy Spirit can given, and
to model Christ with their lives to a wathcing world, that their faith in You might become known to the ends of the earth.

Keep ____actively serving only You, the living and true God. Keep ___’s heart turned to You so that they will recognize the snare of idols and conciously choose to have noting in their lives that rivals You.

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BREATHE.

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