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It’s Okay Not to be Okay

As I sit here at my desk, I am surrounded by memories of my daughter, Becca. It always amazes me how some days memories can make me smile, and other days they bring tears.

Holidays definitely have the same affect on me. Some moments, some days, some years are filled with tears, and others are filled with warm memories that bring smiles and even laughter.

And I have learned that it’s okay. It’s okay to be smiling one moment and crying the next. It’s okay to be able to go to one event and but not go to the next event. It’s okay to want to talk about my child with someone who misses her. It’s okay to not want to talk about my child right now to anyone. It’s okay to fall apart and be a mess because something triggered a wave of grief, and it’s okay to have that happen with no explanation. It’s okay to finally have a burst of energy one day, and the next day not even get out of bed.

It’s okay to not be okay! Let me say that again, a little louder this time. Especially as a bereaved parent:

IT’S OKAY NOT TO BE OKAY!

And that is encouraging. Well, maybe not to those who have never faced a deep loss like ours. But if you are anything like me, this was a relief when I found out it is not only okay to be like this, but it is NORMAL!

It gave me so much hope to know that there are other bereaved parents who seem to have figured out how to live without their child, who were once in the same “not okay” place that I still find myself in at times.

So, what do we do?

How can you deal with all of this holiday stuff that is just so hard, and the people around you don’t understand why you are struggling so much? There are some events we can avoid, but how about the ones we really have to attend, and just have to figure out how to get through them?

May I offer a few suggestions to help you face the holiday events you just can’t seem to avoid in a way that will bring some relief to you, if only for a few moments.

1. Take a memory book, and ask people to write something to your child and a special memory.
2. Ask them to make a toast specifically acknowledging by name all family members who have passed on.
3. Play one of your child’s favorite upbeat songs and have everyone dance to it (even something fun like the Chicken Dance Song or Let It Go).
4. Have a silly hat contest, with your child’s favorite color featured. (This would have to be planned ahead, and might make a wonderful yearly tradition. Do the hats each year, or change it up.)
5. Find photos of the family members/friends with your child, and make it into a video with music everyone will enjoy watching.
6. Take a movie your child liked to watch, and ask the group you are with to watch it with you.

And if none of these suggestions seem like they will make you want to be there, guess what? It’s okay!

People around us who have never lost a child will say time heals, (which is why they think we should be over the death of our child after a year or two). As a bereaved parent who has been on this journey for six years, I don’t believe that. I believe it is a chain reaction of where we allow and train our thoughts to go, which affects the choices we make, which affects what we do with our time, which brings a measure of needed healing. (That’s a bit to unpack, which is better to leave to another article.)

Some of us are also told in this life, “It’s not about you.” But the truth is, sometimes it is. Only you know what is right for you as a bereaved parent through the holiday season. But whatever you do, do it with HOPE.

HOPE – Hold On, Pain Eases!

Based on those I have talked to who are much further down the road than I am, I will never say the pain ends. But it can eventually ease, depending on some of the choices you make with your thoughts and actions.

But if you are just in survival mode right now, that’s okay. Do what you need to do to get through it!

And let me end by saying, don’t expect people who have never faced a holiday season with the death of their child to understand. Those of us who are bereaved parents ahead of you on the path know that it’s okay not to be okay, because we are still not okay without our child.

If you would like thirty suggestions to help bring yourself comfort and take care of yourself body, soul, and spirit, just fill in your  name and email address below, and we would be happy to get it right to you.


Expressions of Hope is written by author and speaker Laura Diehl to bring hope, light and life to those struggling in darkness after a tragedy, especially bereaved parents. If you would like more information about Laura as an author or a speaker for your next event, click here.

GPS Hope exists to bring hope to parents who have suffered the death of a child, acknowledging their unique grief with support, connection and education for them and those around them.

 

 

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Hope for the Future: An Advent Journey for Bereaved Parents

“One holiday down, two more to go…” Is that your thought after Thanksgiving, heading into Christmas and New Year’s Eve?

The end-of-the-year holiday season can amplify everything, especially the questions and the pain.

When we face the death of our child, it can feel impossible to believe God is for us, or that He is Emmanuel, God with us. So many unanswered questions, many that start with “Why.”

Last year (in 2016), right before Thanksgiving, I was before the Lord and the words, “Emmanuel, God with us,” hit my spirit with almost an explosion. I cried out, telling the Lord that I want Him to be with me every day of this next month.  I want to feel Him; I want to know His peace in a very tangible way.

I suddenly had a picture of our advent wreath.  As our children grew up, we had many years where we did the advent wreath to help refocus us, from the commercialism and the frazzled busyness of the season, to Jesus.

The thought came to me to have my own advent time with the Lord each night, using the wreath and the candles;

to have a time where I specifically focus on who He is as Emmanuel, God with us, within my pain of the loss of my daughter.

I found myself writing something for each night of the advent season, and most evenings went live on Facebook to light that week’s candle and share with anyone who wanted to join me.

Here is what I found myself writing one day for the week I was meditating on the hope we have in Him.

Advent is a time of waiting; waiting for the coming or arrival of something. This is the season when advent is waiting for the arrival of Christmas. For most, it is a time of joyful anticipation, mixed with frazzled busyness.

But for many of us who have faced the death of our child, it is a time of waiting for the season to just… be…over. There are so many painful reminders of who we are missing, and painful reminders of what will never be.

We are also waiting to be reunited with our child, and that can’t seem to come soon enough. I remember in that first year after Becca died, telling God to just kill me, so I could be done here. Even though I had four other children, I just couldn’t get past the pain of having Becca gone, to be able to enjoy and love the ones who were still here.

Most of us are not suicidal. We just don’t want to live any more. I believe God knew from the very beginning of time that we would struggle with feeling so hopeless in our grief, and He did something about it.

1 Peter 1:3-5 tells us that we have an inheritance reserved in heaven; a living hope through the resurrection of Christ from the dead.

Even though the Christmas season is all about Jesus entering the world of the humans He created and becoming one of us, the purpose of His birth was to die, so that we could have life. Not just life after we leave this world, but abundant life here on this earth (John 10:10). And believe it or not, He still wants to make good on that gift, that promise, in your life, after the death of your child.

God tells us that He is near to the broken hearted (Psalm 34:18). I don’t think there is anyone more brokenhearted than those of us who have lost a child.

But you know what? No matter how broken you are today, tomorrow always promises new hope.

Allow God to plant His seed of hope right in the middle of your pain, and watch it sprout into life.

Romans 15:13 has become one of my absolute favorite verses since Becca died. Please see this as a special gift during this advent season for yourself.  “Now may the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit” (NKJV).

Right now, let’s speak God’s hope into our hopelessness together.

I turned my advent time into a book, so others can also have an opportunity to meditate on what Christmas means to us now as a bereaved parent. There is a reading for each day of the advent season, and each week focuses on something we desperately need: hope, peace, joy and love. Every reading also closes in a simple prayer, to help us continue to open our hearts to the Healer of our shattered souls. (To find out more about this book click here.)

And in case you are interested, each of the four advent Sundays at 8:30 PM Central, I will be live on Facebook (www.facebook.com/gpshope), with my advent wreath, lighting that week’s candle and sharing the current reading. I hope you can join me, and we can share this sacred time together as those who are bound together by both the blood of Jesus, and by the deep earthly loss we have faced.

May you be deeply blessed and find a measure of healing as you focus on making this Christmas season one of reflecting on our Savior in the midst of your painful loss. I sincerely pray that in the next few weeks, the Holy Spirit will remind us all that no matter how suffocating the darkness, there is hope for our future, because He truly is Emmanuel, God with us.

 

 

Expressions of Hope is written by author and speaker Laura Diehl to bring hope, light and life to those struggling in darkness after a tragedy, especially bereaved parents. If you would like more information about Laura as an author or a speaker for your next event, click here.

GPS Hope exists to bring hope to parents who have suffered the death of a child, acknowledging their unique grief with support, connection and education for them and those around them.

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If Only Thankfulness Was as Easy as Pie

As I celebrated Canadian Thanksgiving in October this year with my family, I thought about the past 9 Thanksgivings without Garrett.

Our 8-year-old son, Garrett, was accidently shot and killed in a hunting accident in the summer of 2008.

In the months—and possibly years—following Garrett’s death, I found very little to be thankful for. In fact, everything in my life suddenly became difficult. I was going through the motions of living and paid little attention to my surroundings or other people.

I will never forget our first Thanksgiving without him. I felt helpless, hopeless and anything, but thankful. Thinking about how we would spend the weekend felt agonizing.

I knew that sitting around the house would be painful because I knew I would dwell on the fact that Garett was missing. Instead, we did something practical. Before our big Thanksgiving supper, we spent the afternoon gathering rocks and arranging them into Garrett’s name on a hill overlooking our ranch.

It was during this afternoon that I realized that even though Garrett was not physically with us, our love for him allowed us to spend the day creating memories with each other in his honor—including him in our weekend.

As we ended our day with the traditional turkey feast, we asked the children to reflect about something they were each thankful for. The youngest said, “Pumpkin pie!” His naivety and carefree outlook made me a little envious.

But honestly, some days, pumpkin pie might be the only thing you can find to be thankful for. This is not only normal, but it’s also okay for you to feel this way.

It may seem incredibly difficult to be thankful when there is a huge void in your celebration, but I maintain that bereaved parents are some of the most thankful people there are. Once you have lost a child, it feels as though nothing in the world could be worse. You treasure past holidays with your child, and you truly take nothing for granted. Try including your child in your celebration this year by:

• Cooking your child’s favorite food
• Taking a decoration to the cemetery
• Sharing a memory of your child that brings you joy
• Lighting a memory candle

Looking back to that first year, I realize that I had many things that deserved my gratitude:

• an employer who provided me with all the time off I needed—no questions asked
• co-workers who picked up my slack when I was mentally absent
• friends who delivered meals to our family for months after Garrett’s death
• parents who walked the grief journey with me by giving of their time and energy when I could find very little
• siblings who found the courage to speak at Garrett’s funeral and offer support throughout that first painful year
• strangers who sent messages of support and sympathy after hearing our story
• the community of other heart-broken parents who reached out to me

 

I know you may be feeling that you cannot find anything to be thankful for this year. Believe me—I understand how you feel. Also, believe me when I tell you that finding that one thing may help you heal.

In the midst of our grief, it is often difficult us to see our blessings. However, thankfulness and gratitude are choices. You can choose to become bitter and angry and broken, or you can choose to find one thing for which you are grateful—right now.

And tomorrow, maybe you’ll find another. And the next day, another. Many people I know have started to keep gratitude journals. You will eventually be able to find gratitude every day, but you need to choose it—try to adopt a gratitude attitude.

As I am finishing this post, I am listening to my kids argue about whose turn it is to wash the dishes, and for this minute I am choosing to be thankful that they have each other in their lives.

But in the next minute, I am going to take a deep breath and seek out some leftover pumpkin pie! (And yell at my kids to be thankful that we have dishes to wash—just kidding.)

 

We can all use some encouragement from time to time, like the one you just read, especially from a bereaved parent who is a bit farther down the road. Grieving Parents Sharing Hope would love to play a part in that, by sending you a weekly WORD of HOPE. Just fill in your first name and email address, and we would be happy to add you to our GPS Hope family.

Melanie Delorme was a content English teacher, wife, mother, sister, and friend. Then, without warning, she gained the title of bereaved parent when her eight-year-old son, Garrett, was accidentally killed in a hunting accident in 2008. Her road to healing brought her to write her first book, After The Flowers Die: A Handbook of Heartache, Hope and Healing After Losing a Child. Melanie is involved with her local chapter of The Compassionate Friends and is passionate about offering hope to other bereaved parents. She is currently living on a ranch in Saskatchewan, Canada with her husband, Gerry, and their two children, Morgan and Justin. Connect with the author at www.melaniedelorme.com.

 

 

GPS Hope exists to bring hope to parents who have suffered the death of a child, acknowledging their unique grief with support, connection and education for them and those around them.

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Five Gifts to Give Yourself While Grieving During the Holidays

All I really remember is a blur of deep suffocating pain the first holiday season after our daughter, Becca, died. But one thing I do specifically remember was knowing we were heading towards a new year, and I felt panicked about being in a different year than the one she died. I was not ready to “leave her behind” like that! Have you had similar thoughts?

As it happens every year, many stores already have fall items on clearance and are filling the shelves with Christmas while we are still in October. This can make for a very long three to four months, as we wrap up this year and head into a new one.

Believe it or not, there are things you can do to help ease the pain and bring in a glimmer of light here and there into your place of darkness.

I like to think of them as gifts you can give to yourself.

  1. Change one tradition. If there is one that is particularly painful, change it to something that makes you feel less torn. (Example – instead of the painful memory of shopping for the perfect fresh Christmas tree, buy an artificial one.)
  2. Be up front, and let close family and friends know this is still painful. (You can do this by giving them something to read, written by someone else on this journey, to explain why this is normal and what will help and what will hurt those of us in deep grief.)
  3. While you are at it, ask everyone to come to the family event prepared with a special memory of your child/loved one to share. Just a note: funny is good, as laughter brings a measure of healing. (Remind your family that the holiday gatherings are a precious time to spend time with each other and to talk about and share memories with those who couldn’t make it. Death just puts your child in the category of one who could not make it.) You may find you hear stories you never knew, and this may even give you something to look forward to instead of dreading being with others.
  4. Buy a special notebook and write to your child/loved one over the holidays. Describe holiday scenes to them, share with him or her events you attended, let them know how much you miss them. (There will probably be lots of tears, but tears are cleansing and will also bring a measure of healing.)
  5. Do that one thing you enjoyed doing with your child/loved one with a close friend or family member who will share the memories with you. (For instance, have someone over to help bake and decorate Christmas cookies who will allow you to go through all of the emotions from tears to laughter as you go through the motions of the activity.)

There is one last “gift” I want to share with you, which I personally believe is the most important.

Isolation is paralyzing. I understand our need to be alone, I truly do. We need lots and lots of time alone to work through the painful suffocating darkness, and start to figure out who we are now without our child (including deciding if we even want to know).

But we also need people.

We need people who will hold us up while allowing us to grieve deeply.

It took me over two years to connect with other grieving parents. I didn’t want to be around a group of people who were a mess like me. When I finally made myself go to a gathering of grieving moms, I discovered the opposite – how healing it was to be around a group of people who were a mess, just like me!

They understood. They got it. I didn’t have to explain myself, or excuse myself for any emotion I was feeling or reacting to. It was wonderful!

We also need people who will help us move forward in a way that is not pushy, but supportive.

This may be the same group, or a totally different group of people. I have found “my people,” and for me, it has been a different group.

Last week, I was surrounded by over 200 kindred spirits who have a personal message to share and are moving forward in taking that message to those in the world who need it. They are souls on fire, and Kary Oberbrunner is the Chief Igniter.

I cannot begin to tell you what these few days did to boost the desire to allow God’s fire of purpose burn brightly in me once again. Yes, it is a completely different purpose than it was a few years ago, of traveling to the nations for children’s ministry and trainings. But it is a flame that was fanned to new proportions. It now feels like a blazing fire of determination to not let Becca’s death be wasted; to reach as many bereaved parents as possible with the message of hope, helping each pareavor find their personal path to a fulfilled life of purpose beyond the pain.

Oftentimes, our deepest pain becomes our greatest purpose.

That has definitely been the case for me and, if you allow it, will be the same for you. How do I know? Because of those I rubbed shoulders with at the Igniting Souls conference. Each one there had a story to tell, and many have told it by becoming an author with a published book (which was celebrated and made available to the attendees) including several who have faced the death of their child/children.

Each one in the Igniting Souls “tribe” has connected, because they have chosen to surround themselves with others who will impart into them what is needed to make their purpose as effective as possible.

Each one has chosen not to become isolated in their pain, but to take the risk to reach out and help others behind them on the same journey.

How about you? Where are you on this grief journey of pain to purpose?

May I recommend you start with the list of five gifts that you can give to yourself. Pick only one, or do them all. Wherever you are in this journey is okay. Only you know what is right and will work for you.

Then make sure you are connected to those who are on this path ahead of you; someone who can walk with you, with support and encouragement. It will make such a huge difference, especially during the dreaded holiday season.

And if you are ready, ask God to connect you with a group who will help you find a purpose from the pain of the death of your child. If you aren’t quite ready for that step, I pray that I have convinced you that at some point, it will be important to find and grab hold of a group of people who will help you move forward by discovering and walking in your unique purpose, with your gifts and talents.

Don’t stay on a path that keeps you in total darkness, pain and fear.

Make a choice to take at least one step toward light, hope, and a fire in your soul once again. It can take a while to get to the point of wanting it, and it will be something you have to fight for. When those two things come together (a desire to have it and a willingness to stay in the battle to win the war), you will find yourself standing on a different path; the path of learning how to live a fulfilled life with meaning and purpose beyond the death of your child.

You can do it, because I did it, and I believe in you!

 

If you have not been able to find a group that will help you move forward, while allowing you to feel the pain of your loss, you might want to consider joining author Laura Diehl during the holidays in a semi-private coaching session for the next three months. There is a limit of twelve people who will be meeting together with Laura via the internet twice a month from November through January. The cost is only $75 for this valuable opportunity.

 

Click here to fill out a simple application form to submit.

 

Expressions of Hope is written by author and speaker Laura Diehl to bring hope, light and life to those struggling in darkness after a tragedy, especially bereaved parents. If you would like more information about Laura as an author or a speaker for your next event, click here.

 

GPS Hope exists to bring hope to parents who have suffered the death of a child, acknowledging their unique grief with support, connection and education for them and those around them.

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Help! I Feel So Guilty…

It’s been almost 5 1/2 years since our beautiful 23-year-old daughter, Naomi, took her life and it’s still so hard to believe this happened. It’s so wrong and it never should have happened, but it did.

We knew she was depressed and believed the cause was postpartum depression but now believe it was more complicated than that. We also learned of a traumatic experience that she had gone through that would have added to her depression.

There are so many events that happened in the 3 1/2 months before her taking her life that I have gone over and over in my mind, trying to put it all together and make sense of it all. I had so much guilt as I replayed conversations that we’d had over and over in my mind, thinking the outcome could have been different if I had asked different questions or been there more for her.

We actually thought she was getting better because she showed signs of being more of her happy self at times. I know she was afraid to tell us that she was in a worse place than we realized, which breaks my heart.

In November of 2013, a little over 1 1/2 years since Naomi left this earth, we saw Steven Curtis Chapman in concert and one of the things he said was, “I probably have more questions now than I’ve ever had, but I think the question that the Lord is asking us is, ‘Will you trust me?'” I broke down when I heard him say that because that was my struggle. “Do I trust you, Lord? I want to. Help me to!”

On July 24, 2014, our daughter’s birthday, I was finally able to say, “Lord, I don’t get this and this is so wrong and there are so many unanswered questions, but I trust you.” There are things that happen in this life that are so painful and tragic and wrong, but as Papa said in The Shack, “Just because I can bring incredible good out of incredible tragedy doesn’t mean I orchestrated the tragedy.”

God is good and He is faithful and He is the healer of the brokenhearted and He WILL give beauty for ashes! I trust that!

What you have just read was written by Denee Martindale. In the last couple of years, Denee has become a precious friend. Our daughters actually knew each other growing up, through school and local church activities, but it has only been since they both died that we have gotten to know one another on a deeper level.

There are three things that I think are important to notice in what Denee has shared.

  1. Guilt did not serve her well. 

The “if only’s” and deep regrets don’t change anything. In fact, as long as we are in that frame of mind, we are continuing to feed the darkness and depression we all face after the death of our child (especially one who ended his or her own life).

  1. It took quite a long time to let go of that guilt.

Naomi passed in April of 2012. Denee was tortured with the guilt for over a year and a half. And even when presented with the truth that God was asking her to trust Him beyond all of her unanswered questions, it took another eight months before she was ready to do so.

I know many of you who are reading this have been in that same place for much longer. (This is not a judgment, just an observation.)

  1. The solution was not in herself.

Denee had to let go and trust the One who holds life and death in His hands, and loves both you and your child more deeply than any of us can comprehend.

Coming to a place of acceptance that God did not cause the death of our child, is where many of us have to start. Then we need to accept the fact that He had a reason for not stepping in and stopping our child’s death that will not make sense to us on this side of eternity.

Unfortunately, many of us have a misguided definition of faith, which makes all of this even more difficult, and can be part of the guilt we find ourselves trapped in. True faith is not getting the answers we want (or we “claim”) to our prayers. True faith is trusting Him when certain prayers are not answered in the way we prayed, believing that He can see what we cannot see, and knows what we do not know.

It is important for us to grasp that this life and what we can see, hear, touch and feel, is only temporary. Our child is on the other side of eternity, and we will be joining them some day. Thankfully, our extremely painful separation is not permanent. We can release the guilt, knowing our children are in the safest, most wonderful place possible. Yes, I know we would much rather have them here with us, but wanting that, and hanging on to guilt because they aren’t, will not change it. So we might as well make a decision to let it go.

I encourage you to do exactly what my friend Denee did. Don’t rely on your own strength or desire to trust God with the most painful thing you have ever faced. Be honest with Him. If you are like Denee, tell Him, “I want to trust you. Help me to!” And if you are not to that point of wanting to trust Him, tell Him! And then ask Him to help you to want to trust Him.

Myself and thousands of other bereaved parents have come to the same conclusion as Denne; God is good and He is faithful and He is the healer of the brokenhearted and He WILL give beauty for ashes!

We trust that! And you can, too.

Expressions of Hope is written by author and speaker Laura Diehl to bring hope, light and life to those struggling in darkness after a tragedy, especially bereaved parents. If you would like more information about Laura as an author or a speaker for your next event  click here. 

GPS Hope exists to bring hope to parents who have suffered the death of a child, acknowledging their unique grief with support, connection and education for them and those around them.

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