Tag: love

Christmas and Grief: Surviving Siblings

Life is complicated, isn’t it?

Even if I could erase loss from our family’s story, we’d still be muddling through the holidays trying to meet needs, expectations and holiday hopes all while juggling schedules and unwanted surprises.

Add child loss and sibling loss to the mix and there’s potential for a real mess!

So one of the things I’ve learned on this journey is I have to ask-and ask again-what my surviving children want and need for the holidays.

And then I have to LISTEN well.

We certainly haven’t managed holidays since Dom left us with grace and aplomb. In fact, some have been downright awful.

But we are still trying to make space and give grace so they are less stressful and more joy-filled.

❤ Melanie

I have never wanted to make my life journey with blinders on.  I realized young that MY perspective is not the only one.  I understand that more clearly now. 

So I try hard to think about, acknowledge and accommodate the feelings and needs of others.

But it’s especially challenging since Dominic left us.  And doubly so this time of year when every sight, smell and song screams, “It’s the holidays and HE IS NOT HERE!“

I may not be as thoughtful to some in my circle as want to be, but I will expend every ounce of energy and effort I can muster to make space for my living children’s needs during this season.  

Read the rest here: Holidays and Grief: Surviving Siblings

 

Listening is Love in Action

Listening is love in action.

If you know someone whose heart carries great grief-and child loss is not the only hard journey hearts are making–offer to listen. 

Give up a few minutes to hear how they are really doing, what is really hard, what they really need to say but may be afraid to speak aloud.  Leave spaces in conversation so a heart can work up the courage to share.  Don’t be quick to offer platitudes that shut down deep discussion.  

It often takes many, many repetitions of traumatic events for a heart to begin to heal. 

Read the rest here: Why I Have To Talk It Out

Here Are Ten Ways to Love a Mourning Heart at Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is only a little over a week away and I know many are making final plans and preparations to gather family and friends around the table.

In the rush toward celebration, please don’t forget those in your circle who have suffered loss.

The past years (!) have prevented or limited many of the ways we publicly gather and mourn so it’s easy to overlook that some families are facing their first set of holidays without a loved one.

Even the second or third Thanksgiving with an empty chair is unbelievably hard.

Here are some helpful ideas to get you started. 

❤ Melanie

We are all on a journey through life and each carry some sort of load.  Mine is child loss.  Yours may be something else.

We can help one another if we try.  

Love and grace grease the wheels and make the load lighter.  

Here are ten ways to love a mourning heart at Thanksgiving:

Read the rest here: Ten Ways to Love a Mourning Heart at Thanksgiving

It’s My Choice: Light Bearer or Candle Snuffer

One of the rituals I observe when the time changes and night closes in so very early is to light a candle each evening in the dark.

I’ve done it for years but now as I do it, I think of Dominic.

It is my small way of declaring the truth that darkness will not win.

It’s my protest against despair and hopelessness that threatens to undo me–threatens to undo ALL of us at one time or another.

Read the rest here: Light Bearers and Candle Snuffers

Today’s Grace is Enough

After the sharp stab of loss, I think helplessness is the most frightening thing I have felt in this journey.

When I am overcome with the sense that I will never make it, that I can’t go on, that I am not going to be able to put one foot in front of the other for even one more hour, much less one more day-I cry out to Jesus and tell Him that.

I have never gotten an audible answer, or a miraculous phone call or a perfect note in the mail–BUT I think in the moment of absolute surrender, the moment when I know with certainty that I can not do this without His supernatural grace, mercy and strength- HE gives it to me.

Read the rest here: Grace for Right Now

Your Presence is Powerful! Don’t Avoid Your Hurting Friends.

It’s tempting to avoid someone when their world is dark.

It’s uncomfortable to choose to enter their pain.  But Jesus has called us to walk beside the suffering, to encourage the disheartened and to lift up the ones who stumble.

There are no magic words to erase heartache.

Only presence.

And isn’t that why Jesus came?

Read the rest here: The Power of Presence

It’s Still Kind of Tender Just There

I’m pretty sure most everyone older than five has suffered a bump, bruise or sprain that left them tender for more than a few minutes.

And if you have, then you know the slightest brush up against that sore spot can elicit quite the reaction.

There’s an emotional correlate to physical bruising. And when someone hits that nerve it hurts. Really, really hurts!

It’s impossible to know where all those places are on another person’s body, much less their heart. So we often cause accidental pain to one another.

Read the rest here: It’s Kind of Tender Just There

Oh, How Grievers Need Faithful Friends!

We all know how it is-you move, you lose an address or phone number, you lose touch. 

But sometimes friendships end more abruptly-not because lives drifted apart but because one person became so uncomfortable she chose to walk the other way.

That’s what happens so often the other side of child loss.  Friends disappear because loss makes them profoundly uncomfortable.  

Read the rest here: HELP WANTED: Why Grievers Need Faithful Friends

Here’s My Heart. Handle With Care.

When someone invites you in and serves up her deepest pain along with the coffee it might feel like a trap or a burden or a bother.

But it’s actually an act of great respect and trust.

Read the rest here: A Sacred Privilege

My Son Existed. He Matters.

I hid this post in my draft folder for months before I published it the first time.

It seemed too raw, too full of all the pain inside my mama heart to put out in the wide world for everyone to see.

And then it was time (like now) to change the flowers on the place where my son’s body rests and I couldn’t stand it anymore.

I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs, “THIS IS NOT ALL THERE IS OF MY BOY!” I wanted to stop people on the street and make them listen to his story, to give away a piece of him for others to carry in their hearts.

Read the rest here: You Existed, You Exist