It cannot be overstated:  holidays are extremely hard after loss.  Every family gathering highlights the hole where my son SHOULD be, but ISN’T. There is no “right way” or “wrong way” to handle the holidays after losing a child. For many, there is only survival-especially the very first year. These days also stir great internal conflict:  I want to enjoy and celebrate my living children and my family still here while missing my son that isn’t. Emotions run high and are, oh

For grieving parents, it takes some thinking, some planning and some preparation to meet both extended family’s expectations and extra responsibilities at Thanksgiving and Christmas while carrying a load of sorrow and pain. One thing I am learning in this journey is that even though I wish someone else would blaze the trail for me, I’m going to have to do it myself.  And because every major milestone is overflowing with emotional booby-traps, I have to plan ahead.

Feeling a little nostalgic for what WAS is perfectly normal.  Most of us humans aren’t that fond of change. But children are ours for a season, not forever.   They are given to us as gifts, not possessions. For some mamas, like me, it really IS over.

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.

They say time is irrelevant in Heaven. Eternity is simply eternity. But for this mama's heart, time is very, very real. Thirty-five years ago I got to meet the little brown eyed, brown haired baby and eleven years ago I had to kiss him good-bye. A mama's arms are made for holding her child, not her child's memory.

I’m thankful this other day exists! Thankful for a day when I can think about and speak about and embrace the child that won’t be with me next weekend. Because Dominic is STILL my son.  He is still very much a part of my heart.  And I need to be able to speak that aloud for others to hear.  

I’m learning to stand up and speak my truth even when others don’t understand it. None of us chose to be bereaved parents.

Joy and sorrow both dwell in my soul and I cannot reveal one and hide the other.  I may laugh and cry in the same moment.

There is no "right way" or "wrong way" to handle holidays after losing a child. For many, there is only survival.

A letter to family and friends that can help them understand (a little) what it's like to face holidays after child loss.

Change is hard on everyone. But it's harder if you don't have important conversations.

I and several other seasoned bereaved parents will share a bit about how to navigate this difficult time of year.

If you can’t do it all, do something. And celebrate.

I’ve learned the hard way that memories are precious.  I don’t want the ones I’m making now to always be tainted by sorrow and loss.