Tag: grief journey

Grief Work 2024: How Stress Impacts Grief

It would be so helpful if there was an app to track stress like there is to track spending.

Wouldn’t it be marvelous to get an alert that said, “Low Balance”, for mental, physical and psychological reserves like the one you can get for your bank account right before you are heading to overdraft territory?

But there isn’t.

And few of us are very good at gauging just how much is left in our mental wellness accounts which means we often keep giving when the well is more than dry.

Read the rest here: How Stress Impacts Grief

Griefwork 2024: Setting Aside Time to Grieve

One of the trickiest parts of life as a bereaved parent is navigating the space between our surviving children and the giant hole left by the one (or more) who have run ahead to Heaven.

There are so many ways I might cling too hard to what’s lost and not lean hard enough into what continues to bring blessing and beauty to everyday life.

I’ve learned it’s best to find quiet moments in which I can journal the feelings that might be unhelpful or downright hurtful to express to others.

❤ Melanie

One of the commitments I made out loud and in my heart the day Dominic left us was this:  I was not going to let his death tear my family apart.  

I was not going to let him become the sainted brother that stood apart and above his siblings.  

I was going to continue to give as much of my time, effort, love and presence to each of the three I had left as I had done when there were four on earth beside me.

I’ve been more or less successful in keeping this promise.

Read the rest here: Child Loss: Setting Aside Time To Grieve Helps My Heart Hold On

Grief Work 2024: Physical Manifestations of Grief

Grief is not *just* feelings. It is so much more.

Often there are random or unusual physical symptoms that show up days, weeks or even years after a child has gone to Heaven.

An important and necessary part of grief work is learning to recognize the physical manifestations of grief and advocating for care from professionals who may not be able to make the connection unless the bereaved speak up and speak out.

❤ Melanie

It’s a well known fact that stress plays a role in many health conditions.  

And I think most of us would agree that child loss is one of (if not THE) most stressful events a heart might endure.  

So it’s unsurprising that bereaved parents find themselves battling a variety of physical problems in the wake of burying a child.  

Read the rest here: Physical Manifestations of Grief

2024: What, Exactly IS Grief Work?

Just yesterday a fellow bereaved mom asked the question: What, exactly IS grief work?

We hear the term bandied around and while it means different things to different people, I use the phrase to encompass the mental, physical, psychological, emotional and relational work (and it is work!) a grieving heart must do in order to process and learn to carry sorrow and missing.

And while I won’t pretend to be an expert (except on my own experience) I do have a lot to say about what has helped, what has hurt and what I’ve learned over the nearly nine years since Dominic left us.

So the first topic I’m going to mine from old posts, from unfinished drafts and (hopefully!!) from hearing back from some of YOU is “Grief Work”.

I think it’s a good way to start a new year when our hearts are particularly tender from the holiday hoopla and all the internal discipline necessary to dwell among the uninitiated.

❤ Melanie

I have used the term for years and only recently has someone asked me to define it.

I guess I never realized that in all the writing about it, I’d never really explained what it meant.

So here goes.

Read the rest here: What, Exactly, IS “Grief Work”?

You Might Not Get a “Thank You” Card

I grew up in the South with a mama who was extremely concerned with fulfilling every social nicety and especially NEVER neglecting to send a “thank you” card to anyone who deserved one.

I wrote out my own appreciations between Christmas and New Year’s each holiday season from the time I was old enough to know how to address an envelope.

There was never an acceptable excuse for not doing it.

So I understand the folks whose own tradition, upbringing and lifestyle demand every kindness, gift, meal brought or other act of service demands written and postage paid acknowledgement.

But please stop waiting for one from your friend or family member who buried their child!

Several times in the past week I’ve had to counsel and console bereaved parents who have been chided, embarrassed, called out in public or shamed in private for not sending notes of gratitude.

It is unrealistic to expect a grieving parent to have the emotional or mental bandwidth to sit down and compose such things when they are probably having trouble writing a grocery list and brushing their teeth.

No one who hasn’t experienced child loss can imagine how difficult it is to leave a funeral or memorial service knowing that for most people it’s over when for t us it’s just beginning.

Child loss changes EVERYTHING.

We come back to a house that no longer feels like home. Our family has been reshaped in ways we can’t recognize and don’t know how to relate to. If there are other children, we are trying our best to help them navigate their own grief. Marriages are rocked and every weak spot exposed.

Some end.

For those who must return to work, it’s necessary to find some way to muster the energy and attention to do whatever our job demands all the while fighting an internal wellspring of emotion that threatens to undo us any moment. Bills have to be paid. Estates (yes, even for very young children, depending on the circumstances) must be managed. Dozens of times we are forced to make phone calls and say, “My son is deceased, I need to do XYZ on his behalf”.

Mental, physical, emotional and spiritual exhaustion is our constant companion.

Most parents would LOVE to have a moment when they could thank those who helped in the immediate aftermath, who sent flowers, food or a card to encourage them.

But they don’t.

I managed to send about twenty notes within the first month to a few folks who were exceptionally close to our family. The rest waited until November when I used Thanksgiving as a natural moment to express my feelings. I know I overlooked some people and I’ve never tried to make my efforts more complete. I am unusual but writing comes fairly natural to me.

Many parents just cannot do it.

So if you are tempted to confront a bereaved parent because you or someone you represent hasn’t gotten a card in the mail, just don’t. And for goodness sakes, do NOT whisper or text behind their back!

I hope you offered your original help or gift with grace and a heart tuned toward compassion. If you didn’t, then shame on you. If you did, then you shouldn’t mind not having a formal acknowledgement.

You have the great blessing of remaining ignorant of what it feels like to send a child to Heaven before you.

That should be enough.

More Than Anything I Just Want to Be Me

I first shared this post in 2018 when I was approaching the four year milestone of Dominic’s leaving for Heaven.

By that time most folks who knew me when he died had relegated that part of my story to some ancient past that surely I was over by now. I’d met others who had no clue my heart skipped a beat on a regular basis because one of my children was buried in the churchyard down the road.

And even the closest ones-the ones I thought would understand forever-were sometimes impatient with my ongoing refusal to leave Dominic behind and be “healed” of my grief.

I was reminded of it recently when several bereaved parents shared some painful grief attacks suffered around the holidays even though it has been years or even decades since their child ran ahead to Heaven.

Truth is, I will never be fully healed on earth from the awful wound of child loss. I continue to be subject to the sharp stab of missing and longing that drags my heart back to the first devastating moment.

And when that happens, I can’t fake it.

What I long for more than anything as the tenth anniversary of his departure draws near is simply this: Let me be me, whatever that looks like.

So please don’t try to fit my journey into your mold. 

❤ Melanie

Even in the very first hours after the news, my brain began instructing my heart, “Now, try to be brave.  Try not to disappoint people.  Try to say the right thing, do the right thing and be the example you should be.”

Whatever that meant.

Read the rest here: Can I Just Be Me?

I’ll Never Forget: Auld Lang Syne

We don’t know what tomorrow will bring.  We plot and plan and hope and dream but in the end we have very little control over how our story ultimately plays out.

So we are left each New Year’s Eve with some good memories, some not so good ones and some we cling to like gold from a treasure chest because they are all we have.

Should auld acquaintance be forgot and days of auld lang syne?

Never. 

Read the rest here: New Year’s Eve and Auld Lang Syne

Holidays 2023: Wife, Mother, Daughter, Sister, Friend

It would be helpful if the world could just stop for a day or a week (or a year!) when your heart is shattered by the news that one of the children you birthed into this world has suddenly left it.

But it doesn’t.

And immediately all the roles I have played for decades are overlaid by a new role:  bereaved mother.  Except instead of being definitive or even descriptive, this role is more like a foggy blanket that obscures and disorients me as I struggle to fulfill all the roles to which I’ve become accustomed.

Read the rest here: Wife, Mother, Daughter, Sister, Friend

Holidays 2023: Grief Can Sneak Up On You

In the daylight

In the dark

In my dreams

Things creep in at the corner of my vision

Or sounds slip in unnoticed

Until my brain puts them together and screams, “Oh no!”.

Read the rest here: Swallowing Panic

Christmas 2023: Post-Holiday Blues

It’s a paradox really-that grieving hearts can be more anxious and more sorrowful BEFORE and AFTER a milestone day, birthday or holiday than on the day itself.

That’s not true for everyone, but it’s a frequent comment in our closed bereaved parent groups.

Fearful anticipation of how awful it MIGHT be can work me up into a frenzy.

Image result for grief anniversaries

Read the rest here: Post Holiday Blues: When The Grief Comes Crashing Down