writing – thelifeididntchoose

Life Happens

I know I’m not telling any of my regular readers anything new, but life keeps rolling on and the waves keep rolling in whether we grant permission or not!

A little over two weeks ago, on Sunday, September 14th, my father suffered a serious stroke.

I live four hours away and had asked a near neighbor to check on him because he didn’t seem ok when we talked that morning.

He was definitely NOT ok and this dear friend got him quickly to the hospital.

I was already on the road headed down to Florida when I received the call confirming it was a stroke.

My unbelievably vibrant, active, very involved nearly ninety year old dad suddenly couldn’t remember anything. He partially lost vision in his right eye.

His body is strong and able but his mind has betrayed him.

He often doesn’t remember his own name, much less mine. He can’t read. He can’t recall my mama.

Thankfully, he is able to navigate well enough within his own home to do necessary daily hygiene tasks like dressing and brushing his teeth.

It’s been an unbelievable and brutal change.

I’ve been here with him night and day since it happened-my own life suspended to handle the details of his.

Strangely, so many things I learned in the early days after Dominic ran ahead to Heaven have come in handy:

Boundaries
Setting priorities
Keeping things simple
Writing down EVERYTHING
Ignoring negative inputs and concentrating on the positive
Asking for help
Accepting help
Admitting when I’m overwhelmed

It’s going to be a long journey and one with a lot of tough terrain.

But something else I learned when Dom left us was this: God’s mercies are new every morning. It’s more than alright to admit defeat and go to bed, trusting the morning light to bring fresh hope and renewed strength.

My family has been amazing! The children have stepped up and filled gaps I could never fill on my own. My husband has graciously managed so many tasks I usually handle at home.

Friends have called, messaged and sent cards. (If you’d like to send one, you can find the address on my personal FB page.)

I’m not sure when I will be able to return here full time but hope to keep some posts coming.

In the meantime, may I ask for your prayers?

Specifically pray for:

Papa to regain as much function and memory as possible.
For all of us to be filled with grace and not with frustration.
For wisdom as I figure out how to manage two households and still make time for the beautiful blessings of children and grandchildren.
For me to develop a new rhythm respecting this new reality.

Thank you.

You are my most precious friends and most kind community.

I appreciate you. ❤

Grief In Real Life: Why Still Write After All These Years?

I first shared this years ago when I was reflecting on half a decade of living without one of my children beside me. I’ve now had more than another half decade to think about why or IF I’ll continue to write.

Every so often I take a day or two to consider whether I want to keep posting. I have to admit sometimes that I wonder if I bang the same drum for too long it will sound loud and obnoxious to some people’s ears.

But then I get a message or a comment from someone fresh on this journey and they feel seen, heard, validated and safe.

So I write on.

And I find that writing brings clarity and comfort to my soul. I still have things to say and I hope what I say still brings some small measure of light, love, life and hope to other hearts.

❤ Melanie

I was one of those people years ago who set her sights on starting and maintaining a blog.

I thought I would post a few times a week and share anecdotes about my family and critters, insight into daily living and inspiration from Scripture and interesting quotes.

No, not THIS blog-the other two I started and quickly abandoned to who-knows-where in cyberspace.

Trouble was that the subject matter, while near and dear to my heart, wasn’t personally compelling enough to keep me disciplined and actively writing.

If someone had said, “Pick any topic to write about”, child loss wouldn’t have been in the first million choices.

No one CHOOSES child loss (Thus the name of the blog: The Life I Didn’t Choose).

But untold numbers of parents EXPERIENCE it every year. This very day, parents somewhere got a knock on the door or a phone call or sat next to a hospital bed as life slipped slowly from their child’s tired body.

Since I was already journaling and had walked this Valley for nearly a year and a half, it dawned on me that the ramblings I’d put down might be helpful to another heart. So I started THIS blog in September, 2015.

And I’ve been here ever since.

I’m not in the raw, breathless place I once was. But grief and loss are part of every breath I take, part of every moment I experience.

I miss Dominic. I still consider death an enemy. Every day I hate what was stolen and long for what was. I mourn the changes grief has wrought in my family. I wish things were different. I discover new ways loss impacts my life and new ways of coping with it.

So I keep writing.

I don’t want anyone to feel alone in this journey. I don’t want anyone to think there’s no way to survive. I don’t want a single broken heart to doubt that God is here and that He will help you hold onto hope.

I’ll spill my heart out in words until the words are exhausted.

It helps me.

I pray it helps others too.

Grief in Real Life: Give Sorrow Words

A few summers ago, I participated in an online discussion group with others who read ATLAS OF THE HEART* by Brene Brown.

It was a helpful exercise to map, name and explore emotions so that I can create more meaningful connections to myself and others.

I think I’ve been doing some version of this my whole life. Language matters. Being able to give any emotion-especially the deep pain and sorrow of child loss-matters.

Language is our portal to meaning-making, connection, healing, learning, and self-awareness….

Language shows us that naming an experience doesn’t give the experience more power, it gives us the power of understanding and meaning.

Brene Brown, ATLAS OF THE HEART, xxi

The morning Dominic ran ahead to Heaven, after I made the awful phone calls I reached for my journal.

I knew if I didn’t start spilling the grief onto paper my heart would explode with sorrow.

Since I learned to hold a pencil I’ve been writing.

It’s how I sort my thoughts, figure out my feelings and express my heart.

A few months after and I found several online support groups.

There I learned a whole other Language of Grief and Loss. The more I read what others shared, the better I understood my own experience and understood how to communicate that truth to others.

You might not keep a journal or write poetry or craft lengthy essays about your pain and that’s just fine. There’s no magic in written words.

Find a safe space or person and speak it aloud.

Sorrow unspoken swells.

It can’t be contained.

It will absolutely consume you.

*Warning: ATLAS OF THE HEART contains language that may offend some folks. I just don’t want anyone to be surprised. ❤

After Almost Ten Years, Why Am I Still Writing

I ask myself this question often: Do I want to keep writing in this space?

Sometimes the answer is a resounding, “no!”.

Because while I love to write, some days it’s hard to put together words in a way others can understand. Sometimes I’m tired, or rushed or just tired of thinking about how grief and loss impact my life.

And then I ask the follow up: Do I still have anything to say?

That’s the one that keeps me here.

Because as soon as I think the answer is “no” to that question, a conversation or a comment thread or a personal experience brings up something that I feel I need or want to write about.

So I sit down and begin again.

I made a commitment in the beginning to be as honest as possible and I’ve done that the best I know how while protecting identities of those who are part of my story but who have their own stories to tell (should they choose).

I also promised to be transparent about my thoughts on God, on faith, on life everlasting. I feel like I’ve done that. In fact, I’m pretty sure some of my rambling has shocked friends and family from time to time. But I’m not afraid of shocking God. He knows my frame, knows my heart and cannot be made small by my questions or doubts.

I try to do research when appropriate to bring together resources and ideas for bereaved parents in one place.

One of the most frustrating things to me in the early months of missing Dominic was how hard it was to find good resources. The Internet is not your friend if you are looking for local and accessible help for practical problems. It was over a year and a half before I found a closed group of like-minded bereaved parents. But once I did, oh, what a difference that made in my journey!

So if you are interested in finding a safe, closed group, ask me. I know of several.

And then there’s the sweet comments that (usually) mamas send my way-either through Facebook or here. When someone writes that looking for the blog post each morning helps them get out of bed-well, that’s both encouragement and a serious responsibility. I don’t want to not show up and disappoint a heart. Even when all I have to offer is only my words.

So for now, at least, I plan to stay.

When my life circumstances make it impossible to carry on or I run out of things to say (which my mother will swear won’t happen!) then I’ll quit.

I send each post into cyberspace with a prayer-even for my readers who don’t believe in prayer:

“Father God, help each heart hold onto hope. Send a ray of sunshine into every cloudy day. Bring someone along who will listen, who will care and who will offer a hand to the one who is too weary and broken to take another step. Help them believe that they are seen, they are loved and that they matter. Overwhelm them with Your love, grace and mercy.”

You DO matter.

I DO care.

If you need to talk, message me.

If you need a safe space, I’ll direct you to it.

I’m not going anywhere.

Until Then: Stories of Loss and Hope

I was asked awhile back to be part of a project shepherded by fellow parents-in-loss, Laura and Gary House (https://ourheartsarehome.org/).

They wanted to gather and publish stories from other child loss survivors in hopes of encouraging hearts and strengthening the faith of parents facing the unimaginable.

I don’t mind saying that in spite of all I’ve written in this space for the past nine (!) years, it was challenging to distill my thoughts about that night, the days that followed and my own faith journey since into a single chapter.

But I, and a dozen other parents, did just that.

In our own words we tell our stories. We share our struggles and our triumphs.

Read the rest here: Until Then-Stories of Loss and Hope

It Slipped Up On Me: More Than Four Million Visits!

I have to be honest.

When I began writing in this space I thought I might reach family and friends I knew face-to-face (IRL for those of you familiar with social media speak).

I NEVER dreamt I’d reach people in other countries, on every continent, from such varied backgrounds.

But I shouldn’t be surprised.

A fuzzy photo of a map of every country in which at least one person logged onto thelifeididntchoose. From the tip of the world to the bottom, east to west, there are bereaved parents everywhere.

Child loss is (sadly) universal.

It doesn’t respect borders or socio-economic boundaries or age or race. It happens everywhere, every day to so, so many people.

What I’ve always tried to do is be honest and vulnerable.

I’ve exposed my heart and my helplessness. I promised myself and my readers I would not hide a thing.

And I haven’t.

I don’t keep close tabs on things like blog statistics because I don’t monetize it. So it crept up on me one day when I happened to glance at the little footnote on the sidebar there were over 4,000,000 folks who had visited the site.

I’m thankful for every one of you.

I’m thankful for the grief groups that choose to print the posts or share them electronically. I’m thankful for the comments and encouragement from other bereaved parents that fuel my continued resolve to show up and share how grief changes over time (and how it doesn’t).

I’m thankful for the friendships that have been forged over distance and time and the encouragement that flies back and forth in the comments.

I’m still learning so I plan to keep on sharing.

I hope you plan to join me.

Grief Journey: Why Am I Still Writing After Ten Years?

I first shared this years ago when I was reflecting on half a decade of living without one of my children beside me. I’ve now had nearly another half decade to think about why or IF I’ll continue to write.

Every so often I take a day or two to consider whether I want to keep posting. I have to admit sometimes that I wonder if I bang the same drum for too long it will sound loud and obnoxious to some people’s ears.

But then I get a message or a comment from someone fresh on this journey and they feel seen, heard, validated and safe.

So I write on.

And I find that writing brings clarity and comfort to my soul. I still have things to say and I hope what I say still brings some small measure of light, love, life and hope to other hearts.

❤ Melanie

I was one of those people years ago who set her sights on starting and maintaining a blog.

I thought I would post a few times a week and share anecdotes about my family and critters, insight into daily living and inspiration from Scripture and interesting quotes.

No, not THIS blog-the other two I started and quickly abandoned to who-knows-where in cyberspace.

Trouble was that the subject matter, while near and dear to my heart, wasn’t personally compelling enough to keep me disciplined and actively writing.

If someone had said, “Pick any topic to write about”, child loss wouldn’t have been in the first million choices.

No one CHOOSES child loss (Thus the name of the blog: The Life I Didn’t Choose).

And I’ve been here ever since.

I’m not in the raw, breathless place I once was. But grief and loss are part of every breath I take, part of every moment I experience.

So I keep writing.

I’ll spill my heart out in words until the words are exhausted.

It helps me.

I pray it helps others too.

Grief Journey: Yep. Still Here.

I’m sharing this post again because it is relevant to some choices I am currently pondering.

If you’ve joined me in this space for very long, you will know that I have never been inclined toward making the blog a commercial interest and I’m still not tempted to do so.

The idea of trying to be an “influencer” or to be under pressure to produce content sounds absolutely awful and Dominic would absolutely HATE it.

My story is not for sale.

That said, I am still here, still writing (not as much as in years past) and still pursuing ways to share my story, support bereaved parents and to educate the general public on what grief is and how it impacts a heart forever.

❤ Melanie

Recently I was challenged by someone close to me to examine the impact on my heart of spending so much time in community with those whose loss was fresher and more raw than my own

They were being neither judgmental nor argumentative.

They were coming from a genuine place of concern, grace and love.

So I took the opportunity to take a step back and reevaluate whether or not I need to continue writing in this space, spend time reading and responding to posts in bereaved parents’ groups and ruminating on how grief has changed over time (now seven plus years!).

It was an excellent exercise.

Read the rest here: Challenge Accepted: Why Am I Still Here?

Ten Years: From Grief Chronicler to Grief Guide

When I started writing here I had two primary goals.

The first was to share what I was experiencing-how child loss impacted every aspect of my life and the life of my family.

The second was to allow those outside the loss community a glimpse into what it was like inside and how they could develop a compassionate and helpful response to their grieving friends.

For nearly seven years those goals didn’t change.

But recently I was asked (in the context of business) what kind of work I do and I answered (without thinking) that I was a “Grief Guide”.

It fell out of my mouth before I had a chance to edit my words.

I’ve thought a lot about that exchange since and realized it was an honest answer. Although I’d also add that I am a “Grief Advocate”-not that I hope others grieve but I will absolutely, positively stand up for those who ARE grieving.

It felt right at the time and, I realized, it IS right for me, for now.

I’m in the process of trying to do more long form writing.

I’m gathering notes from what I’ve shared at conferences, at retreats, in person and online interviews and podcasts to create content that could be published into a book or an anthology of short essays.

It’s helpful to me and I hope, eventually, it will be helpful to others.

I don’t think my experience is unique or definitive.

There are so many ways children leave this world and every family is its own community of loss. I can’t speak for those whose child went to Heaven through long illness or addiction or suicide. I hope the Lord raises up those who experienced that type of loss to share their own stories.

I can speak to the horror and earth shattering experience of sudden death.

I can speak as a person of faith to the long and painful process of integrating my lived experience with my beliefs and understanding of who God is and how He works in the world.

I can speak to the difficulty of parenting (even adult) surviving children and the tightrope I walk managing grief and longing for the one missing with the love and joy of three still with me.

I can speak to the way life grows around grief and the strength I’ve developed over time which allows me to participate fully in the NOW while holding the BEFORE in my heart.

I can let friends and family outside our immediate grief circle know about the constant background music loss hums in my ears and the ears of others also mourning a child. There is always a low level (sometimes a greater level!) drain on any energy-emotional, physical, psychological-I may have on a given day.

I can share how Western society doesn’t provide safe space in the larger context of social gatherings, faith communities and other public places for grievers to just grieve. There is so much pressure to let the funeral or memorial service mark and end to outward expression of sadness, loss, missing and longing.

I continue to face fresh challenges in this journey which provide new insight and require new courage.

I suspect I will until the day I join Dominic in Heaven.

My passion for paving the way for those who will (sadly) follow on this journey of child loss has not dimmed.

❤

So, So Much To Say

I had forgotten that in 2022 I took a couple of weeks off.

I was exhausted. Flat out unable to manage anything other than minimal day-to-day responsibilities.

I truly thought (prayed!) 2023 would be different. But I’ve found myself in precisely the same place THIS year after 7+ months of hard and busy and overwhelmed.

So that’s one reason I’m doing this compendium of past posts.

I need to tap into the energy and enthusiasm I expressed in thousands of words from years gone by.

I hope it helps others as much as it’s helping me.

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.

Read the rest here: Prayers I Still Pray, Last Installment

2017: Faith in “Faith” or in a Faithful Father?

For it is by grace [God’s remarkable compassion and favor drawing you to Christ] that you have been saved [actually delivered from judgment and given eternal life] through faith. And this [salvation] is not of yourselves [not through your own effort], but it is the [undeserved, gracious] gift of God;

Ephesians 2:8 AMP

This is one of my favorite verses because it summarizes the Gospel-God calls, God saves, God keeps.

It’s ALL God.

Sadly, my human heart can forget this so easily.

Read the rest here: Faith in “Faith” or in a Faithful Father?

2018: Let’s Stop Hiding, Shall We?

You want to know a secret?

Everyone, EVERYONE, wonders if they are “normal”.

And we all try on different masks trying to hide the real us just in case we aren’t.

Read the rest here: Let’s Stop Hiding, Shall We?

2019: Between a Rock and a Hard Place

If you’ve joined me here for very long, you know I have a particular dislike for what I call “Sunshine Christianity”.

It’s not because I’m opposed to smiling faces and feel-good Bible verses plastered across doors, hallways, t-shirts and social media.

It’s because it doesn’t tell the whole story and sets up hearts for disappointment (at best) and walking away from Jesus (at worst) when their personal experience falls short of this hap, hap, happy picture portrayed by so many.

Read the rest here: Scripture Journal Challenge: Between A Rock And A Hard Place

2020: How To Survive Grief Anniversaries

I know I’m not the only one who carries a calendar in my head that threatens to explode like a ticking timebomb. Days that mean nothing to anyone else loom large as they approach.

Read the rest here: How To Survive Grief Anniversaries

2022/2023: Exhausted-Emotionally, Physically, Spiritually

I had forgotten that in 2022 I took a couple of weeks off.

I was exhausted. Flat out unable to manage anything other than minimal day-to-day responsibilities.

I truly thought (prayed!) 2023 would be different. But I’ve found myself in precisely the same place THIS year after 7+ months of hard and busy and overwhelmed.

So that’s one reason I’m doing this compendium of past posts.

I need to tap into the energy and enthusiasm I expressed in thousands of words from years gone by.

I hope it helps others as much as it’s helping me.

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2017: Faith in “Faith” or in a Faithful Father?

2018: Let’s Stop Hiding, Shall We?

2019: Between a Rock and a Hard Place

2020: How To Survive Grief Anniversaries

2022/2023: Exhausted-Emotionally, Physically, Spiritually

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