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. Immediately all the roles I have played for decades are overlaid by a new role:  bereaved mother.  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.

There are so many ways child loss impacts relationships! And every. single. relationship. gets more complicated.   When your heart is shattered, there are lots of sharp edges that end up cutting you and everyone around you.  It’s pretty much inevitable that one or more relationships will need mending at some point..

Every time I tell the story of Dominic, it helps to keep him real.  Dom was always ready to create a funny and memorable photo! It reminds my heart that he lived, that he mattered, that he matters still. And in the telling, I am giving away a little bit of him for another heart to carry.  His light is passed to another soul that can pass it to another and another.

One of the gifts grief has given me is that I just do not have the energy to keep my mask on straight. So I’ve decided to take it off. And I find that when I do, people aren’t horrified, they are relieved. Because that means they can take theirs off too.

One of the greatest challenges I faced this side of child loss was finding a space where I could speak honestly and openly about my feelings toward God and about my faith. So many times I was shut down at the point of transparency by someone shooting off a Bible verse or hymn chorus or just a chipper, “God’s in control!” They had NO IDEA how believing that (and I do!) God is in control was both comforting and utterly devastating at the very same time.

I no longer feel betrayed.   I still don’t like this life. I would never have chosen this life.   But I will trust the One Who made me to carry me through it.

It IS frustrating AND exhausting.   But I am learning (slowly, very slowly!) that it is oh, so much better! Instead of energy spent on being wounded and trying to hide it, I’m learning to speak up, own the wounds and suggest ways to prevent them in the future.  

One thing burying my child is teaching me is this:  Every single person I meet is carrying a burden I know nothing about. And most are doing the very best they can to bear that load and still do life.

The first time I shared this I was trying to distill years of walking the broken road of child loss into a relatively few, easy to think about, “lessons”. Since then I could add a dozen more but today I’ll only add one: Being a bereaved parent is not my IDENTITY but it impacts who I am in ways I’m still figuring out. Just as being married or being female or being from the southern United States informs how I walk in the world and interact with others so, too, does having bu

This came up in a bereaved parents’ support group and I thought it was a great question:  “When you meet someone for the first time, do you tell them about your missing child?” It’s one of those practical life skills bereaved parents have to figure out. I remember when it dawned on me a few months after Dominic left us that I would meet people who wouldn’t know he was part of my story unless I told them. It was a devastating thought.   I had no idea how to answer.

Even though time plus doing the work grief requires better equips us to carry this load, the absolute weight of it never changes. Our fractured hearts never quite regain their pre-loss shape and life is forever altered because as long as we have breath, we will miss our child in Heaven. So having a designated month where it's socially acceptable to share about grief in general, our child in particular and whatever wisdom we've gained through hard experience is welcome r

Grief is SO MUCH MORE than sadness and missing. It is a tangled ball of emotions.

I keep repeating the mantra, “grace and space” to myself. I need grace-from my own heart FOR my own heart– I must cut myself the slack I would be happy to extend to others. I need grace from friends and family. You can never know all the ways I ache for the life I had before Dominic ran ahead to heaven.  You could never imagine all the daily pinpricks my soul must suffer as I walk in this world and am reminded of what I’ve lost.

I want to do better. I want to be the safe space hurting hearts need. I want to be full of grace and mercy and kindness. I know I fall short, but I’m still learning.

We say we want real. But we really don’t. We tune in by the millions to watch “reality TV” even though we know the drama is manufactured...

I first shared this eight years ago so it may shock some folks that while I have finally tossed most of the things in my fridge that once belonged to Dominic, I’ve got a giant bottle of hot sauce I’m still using. Every time I add spicy flavor to chili I think of him. I’m not looking forward to the day it runs out because it will be one more link dissolved between the living son I knew in the flesh and the memories I have to settle for now.❤

Those hours before I planted one last kiss on my son’s forehead, I held his hand.   I nodded at the people filing past to pay their respects with my arm tucked behind me, desperate to cling to my child. And I’m still clinging.   I will not let him go.   I don’t care how many days or months or years march on taking me further from the sound of his voice, the touch of his hand or the brightness of his smile-I refuse to release my grasp.

I want my heart and my words to reflect that I know this Savior full of love and mercy. Spared or not, it’s no doing of mine.

Jealousy is a green-eyed monster and I want no part of it. I have to focus on the gift and not the loss.  I can't always do that.

I long to be a burden bearer for my friends and family because I know what it is to carry a burden. So I ask the hard questions.