Grief Work 2024: I Have to FEEL All the Things in Order to Heal

It’s so tempting to try to run or numb the pain of child loss!

Who willingly submits to 24/7 excruciating pain?

But the truth is, unless I face my feelings, give my heart and mind time to experience them and work toward processing them, I cannot even begin to heal.

One of the most difficult and time consuming aspects of grief work is setting aside space and giving myself grace to do just this. In the first couple of years I would venture to say that the majority of my waking hours-intentionally or unintentionally-were spent on this very thing.

Even almost ten years later, I still spend some portion of every day (although now it may be fleeting) feeling, dealing and trying to work on healing part of my broken heart.

❤ Melanie

If I touch a hot stove my hand jerks away almost before my mind registers the searing pain.  It’s reflex.  Our bodies were designed to react to and protect us from things that cause pain.

Run away.  Don’t go back.  Set up barricades and warning signs so that others can be protected.

Most of the time, this reaction serves us well.

But sometimes those reflexes keep us from healing.

Read the rest here: Feel and Deal to Heal

Griefwork 2024: Developing Thicker Skin

I remember clearly walking around like a giant nerve for the first days, weeks and months after Dominic left us.

It didn’t take much for me to burst into tears.

Everywhere I went I was forced to endure words and actions that pierced my heart.

It was hard not to take it personally. It was impossible not to react. Surely people should know better, be better, do better!

But the truth is, they don’t know. And if I’m honest I have to admit that before it was ME, I didn’t know either.

So part of the work grief required was for me to develop thicker skin.

I had to learn to scroll past social media posts, overlook careless comments and not expect those outside my immediate grief circle to understand how Dominic’s death continues to impact me and my family.

❤ Melanie

If you’ve joined me here for more than a minute you know I am a fierce advocate for bereaved parents in particular and all grievers in general.

But you’ve probably also noticed that, at least in my own life, I recognize how traumatic and/or difficult circumstances can make it hard to see past the hurt and the shattered world a broken heart inhabits. I can judge others harshly without meaning to.

Read the rest here: Speaking From Experience…

Griefwork 2024: Elusive Sleep

It’s something I hear often from bereaved parents-sleep is elusive.

Falling asleep was nearly impossible in the first days and weeks after Dominic’s accident. I would lie down utterly exhausted but simply not be able to close my eyes because behind the lids scrolled the awful truth that my son was never coming home again.

Eventually my body overcame my mind and I would drift off for an hour or two but couldn’t stay asleep.

It was years before I finally developed something that resembled a “normal” sleep pattern. Even now I wake at four practically every morning-the time when the deputy’s knock sounded on my door.

Sleep is important. I can’t do the work grief requires if I go too long without it.

I have used (and still use!) various tips and tricks to help me fall asleep and stay asleep. Here are a few of them.

❤ Melanie

Boy, do I envy my cats’ ability to fall asleep any place, any time.

I’ve lived with chronic physical pain for over a decade and there are nights when it is hard to go to sleep-when it is impossible to ignore the pain.  But I have never thought of myself as having trouble sleeping.

Until now.

Read the rest here: grief and sleep