GPS Hope

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Finding the Real Us

Growing up, one of my favorite stories was The Velveteen Rabbit. In fact, I named one of my own stuffed bunnies Velveteen, and would often sleep with it at night. (I memorized a list of all my stuffed animals, and gave each one a turn sleeping with me, cuddled in my arms, so none of them would feel left out. I can still run through that list in my head, almost fifty years later. I will spare sharing with you the names of my 13 cuddle-mates…)

Just a few years ago, I found a beautiful condensed “read-aloud” version of the book, so I purchased it to be able to share it with my grandkids. When we moved into the Hope Mobile (a 38-foot motor home) I had to go through a life-time collection of two shelves of children’s books, deciding which ones to get rid of and which ones to keep. Only eight of those books found a place in our house on wheels, and that copy of The Velveteen Rabbit is one of them.

In case you aren’t familiar with the story, this little “fat and bunchy” stuffed bunny with spotted brown and white velveteen fur and pink sateen ears, becomes a boy’s favorite toy, which he talks to, plays with, and of course cuddles with each night. The bunny thinks he is real, because the boy tells the nanny his beloved bunny is real when she thinks he is making too much fuss over a toy. Eventually, the boy becomes sick with scarlet fever, and the well-worn and much-loved bunny is taken with the bedding to be burned. A real tear trickles down the face of the bunny, which immediately grows a flower with a fairy in it. Because the bunny was so loved and was real to the boy, she turns the velveteen Rabbit into a real live bunny, to live with the others he met earlier who made fun of him for not being real.

Looking back, I had no idea what the meaning of that story would have to me, after the death of our oldest daughter, Becca.

Let me share an exchange in the nursery between the wise old Skin Horse and the Rabbit.

“What is REAL?” asked the Rabbit one day…

“Real isn’t how you are made,” said the Skin Horse. “It’s a thing that happens to you… It doesn’t happen all at once. You become. It takes a long time… Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real, you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.” (The Velveteen Rabbit by Marjorie Williams)

There are several similarities in this story, to my journey of being a pareavor  (a parent who has been bereaved of my child).

• It reminds me that working through our grief is a process; a journey. And it definitely doesn’t happen all at once. It takes a long time… years, as a matter-of-fact.

• “He hasn’t got any hind legs! He doesn’t smell right!” the wild rabbit exclaimed, jumping backwards. “He isn’t a rabbit at all! He isn’t real!” This is the reaction the live rabbits had one day when Rabbit was on the ground while his boy played. I don’t know about you, but many of us feel like the people around us just don’t get it. They don’t validate our loss, because we are so different than they are. They hop away and leave us, not understanding why we are the way we are.

• It is a story of going from being ugly to being real; from being who I was, thinking I was “real,” to being who I am now, on the other side of the suffocating darkness after Becca’s death. As I came out of the darkness and back into a place of hope and light, I began to see myself differently and I began to see others differently, along with a depth I didn’t have before. And that is a good thing.

• The Velveteen Rabbit is also a story of hope. He went from a place of devastation and being thrown away as useless to becoming real. I certainly felt devastated and totally useless. I felt like my soul died when my daughter died. But I didn’t stay that way. And you won’t either.

In order to become “real,” like the velveteen Rabbit, we have been taken through a very ugly place. And just like he was taken to a community of other bunnies, we are a community. We are a bunch of broken wounded people, doing life together. We are now traveling with each other on this journey, where we can learn how to become our best self and to become more real than ever before, within the pain and deep earthly loss of our children, not in spite of their death, but because of their life.

The book ends with the boy playing outside the following spring, seeing a rabbit that looks very much like his stuffed bunny that was destroyed.

But he never knew that it really was his own Bunny, come back to look at the child who had first helped him to be Real.

Our children gave us a great gift. The gift to become truly real. I know so many parents who are much further on this journey than I am, who have said they would not want to go back to being the person they were before their child died.

Why would they say that?

Because our child changed us. Both their life and their death.

We tend to look at how dark our life became after their departure, but there are also ways we have grown and are growing (or will grow), because of our brokenness. For me, I tend to not fret over the smaller things as much as I used to. I am much more aware of the present moment, knowing that is really all I have. My compassion for those who are hurting is way more than it ever used to be.

And because Becca had life, there are things she did that taught me something or showed me the way to being a better person, such as watching how she had a way of accepting everyone (whether she agreed with them in life choices and opinions or not) and how she was able to bring so much laughter while she was deathly ill her last 18 months. And watching Becca live life with only one leg and not letting it limit her, gives me motivation to push through my own difficulties instead of giving in to the obstacles that come my way.

How about you? Some of you may not have gotten to this point yet, because your child’s departure is still too fresh and your grief is still very dark and deep, but is there something you like better about yourself now since your child died? Is it easier to let go of toxic relationships? Are you more aware of what is really important in your life now? Are you now easily able to say “no” when people ask you to do something, when before you always said “yes?” Do you no longer feel guilty about putting your own needs first?

Here is another thought. We often talk about how we are forever changed because our child died, but I want to ask: How are you different now because your child LIVED? What are the new lenses your child’s life gave you, helping you to see the world with a different view than you had before?

As the wise old Skin Horse said: Once you become real, you can never become ugly again.

I would love to have you answer in the comments below this blog. What have you gained through your child’s death? What did your child’s life teach you?

We would like to send you the MP3 download From Pain to Purpose. This is a message Laura Diehl has given at several churches, sharing how God has a plan to take the deepest pain of the loss of your child, and restore your life to one of meaning and purpose once again, if we allow Him to.

 

Expressions of Hope is written by author, speaker and singer Laura Diehl. She and her husband, Dave, are the founders of Grieving Parents Sharing Hope (GPS Hope). Dave and Laura travel full time in their Hope Mobile (a 38-foot motor home) to be more easily available for speaking and ministry requests, including being invited to hold one-day GPS Hope & Healing conferences.

Laura is a national keynote speaker and has also been a workshop speaker for events such as The Compassionate Friends and Bereaved Parents USA national conferences, along with being a guest on radio shows, podcasts and other media channels such as webinars with Open to Hope.

If you would like more information about Laura as a speaker for your next event or want more information on hosting a GPS Hope & Healing conference, click here.

 

GPS Hope exists to walk with grieving parents through the suffocating darkness of child-loss, guiding them to a place of hope, light and purpose.
 We also support families, friends and coworkers who want to know how to support these parents both short and long-term.

 

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How Do I Do It?

I am guessing that reading the following sentence will make you want to move on to something else, but I beg you to please read this all the way through because there are so many who desperately need you to understand them. July is National Bereaved Parents Month. There, I said it, now please stay with me to the end of this blog.

Up to this point, I have not even mentioned that fact, even though we have a national ministry to grieving parents. Why haven’t I? Because there are no words to describe what it means to be a bereaved parent.

I can’t put words to the agonizing and tormenting darkness of the pit we were hurled into. Or the gut-wrenching pain of having our child amputated from us with no anesthesia.

There is no way to share how this emptiness never ever leaves us, or how there is a permanent gaping wound that doesn’t even scar but is something we have to constantly nurse and give attention to.

We can’t explain in a way that makes sense why we can’t come  to family events, or “get back to normal.” There is no more normal for us, ever, while we are on this earth. We are now a “before” and “after” person.

Everything is now bittersweet, and quite often more bitter than sweet. We want to celebrate the graduations, the weddings and the precious new births and join the family holiday festivities. And we do, in our own way. But each life event is another slap-in-the-face reminder of who isn’t there and should have been. We can’t help but feel the aching emptiness. And being in a happy place surrounded by people who are celebrating, doesn’t necessarily make us feel better like some people tell us it will, but often just compounds the grief and brings it all back.

When you have a child go away, maybe to camp, or to stay with grandma for a couple of weeks, or go on a mission trip, or head off to college, or move across the country for a job, your heart aches. You won’t be able to be part of their lives on a day-to-day basis. We get it, we really do. It is a valid issue. But please know that it is hard for bereaved parents to hear those around us lament about their child being out of their presence for a while, because you still have access to them through the digital highway. And at some point, you will be with them again. We have none of that. Period. For the rest of our time here on earth.

We will never have a conversation with them to hear their voice. We will never hear them laugh. We will never see their face. We won’t know what they look like two years or ten years or twenty years from now. We will never buy a birthday or Christmas gift for them. We will never hear them say, ”I love you” or be able to give them a hug. EVER… all we have now are memories of who they were…

People tell us we are so strong and that they could never do what we are doing. Well, guess what? We had no choice in this event in our lives, and we aren’t strong! There are times we literally cannot breathe. We can’t even get out of bed. Sometimes a good day is making it to the shower or fixing a meal for our family. And when we have to pour all our energy into being at work for the day, when we get home we fall apart, every single day for a very long time. (I am talking for months and years.)

I have had people tell me someone that they know lost a child a few years ago, but they are doing fine now. It always makes me cringe, because I know they aren’t. You see, it becomes our job to make those around us comfortable with our grief. We have to put on our masks and convince those around us that we are okay, because if we don’t, either people don’t want to be around us, or they try to fix us and tell us we should be doing better by now. So we pretend, so they don’t have to grieve with us.

Did you know that most experts say five years and under is considered fresh grief for a parent who has lost a child (of any age)? And that the death of a child is considered traumatic grief? We are dealing with a literal trauma in our lives. And many of us are also dealing with PTSD, depending on the circumstances, such as seeing our child die or finding their body. Those are images that play in our minds over and over and over again. And as grieving parents, we can’t help but torment ourselves with the “what ifs.”

Yes, we can, and do, at some point figure out how to live with a part of our very being amputated from us. We learn to live our lives around the grief as we daily miss our child, seeing reminders of him or her everywhere we turn. But it takes a long time to figure out how to do that, and we will always be hit with grief triggers for the rest of our lives. If you are with us when that happens, please see it as a sacred place and moment, and know that it is an honor for us to let you in. Let us know it is okay to still miss our child deeply, and show grace, allowing us the time we need to lean into the memories and the grief.

As believers in Christ, we are good at rejoicing with those who rejoice, like Romans 12:15 tells us. But we aren’t very good at the second half of that verse, where we are told to weep with those who weep. (Some versions say to mourn with those who mourn or adds “sharing in their grief.”) And by the way, I notice that God doesn’t tell us to try and fix them if they are mourning for what we think might be too long of a time. He just tells us to join them in their place of sorrow.

If you aren’t sure what to do when you are with a bereaved parent, here is something that might help.

 

Another very special gift you can give to a bereaved parent is to let us talk about our child. Ask us questions about him or her. Let us show you pictures and tell you stories. One of our greatest fears is that people will forget our child lived and that his or her life mattered.

So, to answer the question, “How do I do it?” Even though I am almost eight years into this unwanted bereaved parent journey, sometimes it is still just hanging on one day, one minute, one breath at a time. And I am thankful that I don’t have to choose to either lean on God or to fall apart. I lean on God while I fall apart. I continue to find ways to honor the life and memory of my daughter, Becca. I connect with other parents who are ahead of me on this journey who can encourage me, and I connect with other parents who find themselves behind me on this journey.

I also look for friends who allow me to be who I am now, and not try to hang on to the person I used to be. Unfortunately, there aren’t many out there. Most of them are also bereaved parents who get it.

I don’t take it lightly that you have read this all the way through, and we bereaved parents thank you from the bottom of our shattered hearts. I hope and pray that by reading this, you have a better picture of what our lives are like and can now be one of those needed friends for those of us who are bereaved of our child.

 

 

To receive two free chapters from the book Come Grieve Through Our Eyes: How to Give Comfort and Support to Bereaved Parents, and to be added to our Friends of GPS Hope partners email list, just let us know below where to send them. (Your email address will be kept private.)

 

Laura Diehl is an award-winning author, national speaker and singer. She and her husband, Dave, are the founders of Grieving Parents Sharing Hope (GPS Hope). Dave and Laura travel full time in their Hope Mobile (a 38-foot motor home) to be more easily available for speaking and ministry requests.

If you would like to receive monthly updates on their travel adventures click here and submit your name and email at the bottom of the page.

Looking for a speaker for your next event or want more information on hosting a GPS Hope & Healing conference? Click here.

GPS Hope exists to walk with grieving parents through the suffocating darkness of child-loss to a place of hope, light and purpose.
 We also support families, friends and coworkers who want to know how to support these parents both short and long-term.
  • If you are not a bereaved parent but want to support those who are, or want to follow us as we give hope to these precious parents, please connect with us at Friends of GPS Hope on Facebook.
  • If you are a bereaved parent, we encourage you to connect with us on Facebook and subscribe to Laura’s YouTube channel for grieving parents.

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Six Reasons to Connect with Other Bereaved Parents

 

There are many grieving parents who have a wonderful support system of friends and family after the death of their child. Unfortunately, much of it often only lasts for about six months to a year.

Once a parent hits that one-year mark, many of the people who are in that support system expect us to start “pulling ourselves together” and going back to who we were before, instead of being all gloomy and sad. We are even told we need to see a counselor and get some help to get over it.

Yes, some of us might need counseling. But many parents I know who go that route end up dropping out, because it isn’t really helping. The counselor is going by the book, based on what they have learned in their schooling, or based on their own grief of losing someone like a parent, but just can’t quite seem to reach the level of walking with those of us who have lost our child, which is what we desperately need. (This blog is not telling anyone to not get counseling. Please find a qualified counselor as soon as possible if you feel it is needed to help you get through some of the worst of the grieving process.)

Not all, but most pareavors (parents who have been bereaved of their child) find that the most helpful thing they can do is to connect with other pareavors who were dumped onto this same unwanted journey and will walk with them through the dark valleys of deep grief.

Here are six specific reasons to connect with other bereaved parents.

  1. We are a safe sounding board. Our grief needs lots of grace. And the best place to safely share and vent your raw and real emotions is to those who have experienced the same blackness, confusion and turmoil. There is no shame, and no judgment on your thoughts or feelings when it comes to other parents who have been right where you are.
  2. We will not only let you talk about your child, but are honored to help you keep his or her memory alive, no matter how many years it has been since they left this earth.
  3. We understand the turmoil leading up to the sunrise and sunset dates, as well as things like not going to church on Mother’s Day, being unable to get in the “holiday spirit” etc., well beyond just the first year.
  4. We have experienced the physical trauma. We know what it is like
    • to be so forgetful that we think we are losing our minds or are terrified we are getting early dementia
    • to get sick easily because our immune system has been compromised
    • to not be able to handle crowds or noisy places like we used to
    • to have no energy to get out of bed, much less get dressed or take a shower, weeks and months into our grief (including years later for seasons here and there)
    • to not be able to attend certain events for many years because they are grief triggers for us
    • to have “grief fog” for years, and the frustration it brings
  5. We understand that the word “family” has a totally different meaning to it now, and we understand why you don’t want to have a family picture taken or go to a family reunion.
  6. You won’t get hurtful clichés and inappropriate Bible verses thrown at you to try and fix you or make you feel better.

There are so many more reasons; these are some just off the top of my head. So now the question becomes, “How do I connect with other pareavors to get this kind of support?” Let me share some suggestions with you.

  • There are many wonderful and encouraging Facebook pages for grieving moms and grieving parents. I am guessing you have probably already discovered a few that are a good fit for your beliefs and struggles.
  • With self-publishing on the rise, there are more and more books written on this subject.
  • You may have also discovered that YouTube has videos out there to help with your grief journey.
  • There are also some great conferences and retreats where you can get away for a few days and move toward a greater measure of healing.
  • And of course, there are actual support groups for grieving parents that meet locally on a regular basis.

Just a personal note on those last two: When our daughter Becca died, I didn’t want to go to a support group or any kind of gathering/conference for parents who have lost a child. I thought it would be morbid, and I didn’t want to sit around with a bunch of people who were a mess like me. I thought I would leave feeling worse than I came. But what I discovered is that it was wonderful being around a group of people who were a mess like me, for all the reasons listed above and more. They “got it!” I didn’t have to exhaust myself by wearing a mask making them think I was okay, or feel the need to apologize for laughing or crying at any given moment for no apparent reason. It was so very refreshing and healing.

Here at Grieving Parents Sharing Hope (GPS Hope) we are doing everything we can to provide multiple ways for you to connect with grieving parents for encouragement, based on what works for you, including…. DRUM ROLL PLEASE….

We have launched a weekly podcast specifically for grieving parents!

The first episode was released on April 23, 2019 and a new one is released each Tuesday. The Grieving Parents Sharing Hope podcast is for those who are looking for light in their darkness, and for hope that your life can still have meaning and purpose as you learn to live in a way that honors the life of your child instead of being stuck in the deep grief of his or her death. You can find it several places where podcasts are found. (We hit a snag with iTunes and are hoping it will be there soon, as well.) It is also on our website, along with the show notes. Just go to www.gpshope.org/podcast.

In case you are not aware, here are several other ways that GPS Hope is providing ongoing support for grieving parents.

Facebook page

YouTube Channel

Award winning books

Deeper Dive book study on When Tragedy Strikes: Rebuilding Your Life with Hope and Healing After the Death of Your Child

Weekend retreats

Podcast

Support Groups (It is easy to facilitate a local GPS Hope Share & Care group)

Life Coaching

The Hope Mobile (our 38-foot motor home we live in) to meet personally with bereaved parents, or to minister through speaking and music to your group

Whether you connect with us here at GPS Hope in some way, or you connect with other groups, the bottom line message is that you are not alone, and there are those of us out here who want to walk with you until you can share that same message of hope with someone else coming along behind you.

 

 

Last year I put together a list of top ten recommended books. If you would like to have that list sent to you, just let us know and we would be happy to do so. (Since that time, I have read Imagine Heaven by John Burke and highly recommend it as well.)

 

Expressions of Hope is written by author, speaker and singer Laura Diehl. She and her husband, Dave, are the founders of Grieving Parents Sharing Hope (GPS Hope). Dave and Laura travel full time in their Hope Mobile (a 38-foot motor home) to be more easily available for speaking and ministry requests, including being invited to hold one-day GPS Hope & Healing conferences.

Laura is a national keynote speaker and has also been a workshop speaker for events such as The Compassionate Friends and Bereaved Parents USA national conferences, along with being a guest on radio shows, podcasts and other media channels such as webinars with Open to Hope.

If you would like more information about Laura as a speaker for your next event or want more information on hosting a GPS Hope & Healing conference, click here.

GPS Hope exists to walk with grieving parents through the suffocating darkness of child-loss, guiding them to a place of hope, light and purpose.
 We also support families, friends and coworkers who want to know how to support these parents both short and long-term.

 

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Stop Telling Me I Need to be Thankful

Yes, this is the time of year where “thankfulness” abounds. It is everywhere we turn, from store decorations to commercials to Facebook posts.

But what do we do, when thankfulness is the furthest thing from our minds, and definitely not in our hearts? Do we stay in our house and pull the curtains tight? Do we yell at the TV, telling people who can’t hear us to stop it? Do we stay off social media, so we don’t have to feel like we are gagging at how happy and thankful everyone else is?

Yes, we might do all of those things and much more.

I KNOW how hard it is to be thankful or grateful this time of year, especially when those around us who have never lost a child tells us that is what we should do, because it will make us feel better!!!

Unless you can bring my child back, don’t tell me what to do to make me feel better! Right?

It has been seven years since Becca died, and this is a holiday I still struggle with, but for a different reason than you might think. You see, the last memory of all of us together for this holiday was at Becca’s house.

My Last Thanksgiving with My Daughter

Becca was very ill with severe heart damage (needing a heart transplant) and wheelchair bound. But in her LOVE for hosting and entertaining (it was a God-given gift she was quite good at) she begged to have Thanksgiving at her house instead of the tradition of everyone coming to ours. There were several people who said it would just be too hard; that she couldn’t do it. I knew I would still be the one making most of the food, and preferred using my own kitchen, but something in me knew she really needed to do this. So, I rallied around her, and convinced everyone (including her husband who would also need to shoulder much of the load) to let Becca host the family.

If you know anything about Becca, she always went (what some would consider) way overboard in decorating and preparing when she hosted, which is what made her so good at it. She was also OCD, and everything had to be done to her idea of perfection. (Not always a good combination, I must say…) And what made it worse that particular Thanksgiving Day, was that the only place to fit all fourteen of us was in their basement. This meant that she had to be carried up and down the stairs, with her wheelchair following, to be put back in it. It was a lot of extra work for several of us, causing some frazzled nerves for sure.

But she did it and was SO happy that day as we sat down to eat! My tears are running down my face right now, thinking about it.

This is one of those very bittersweet memories for sure.

And it is my choice to either dwell on the bitter, or on the sweet. As you well know, thinking about the pain of the deep loss, keeps us sucked under the suffocating darkness of grief. BUT, if we force ourselves to dwell on the sweet, such as how super glad I am that I convinced the rest of the family to let Becca host us, on what became her last Thanksgiving here on earth with us, and the wonderful memories I have because of it, I find myself so very thankful. (Oops, there is that word…)

And there you have it. You get to make the choice. Not because others tell you that you should, but because you want your memories to not only give you pain, but to also bring a smile to your heart within that pain.

If this is your first or second year without your child during the holiday season, it might not be possible yet. And that’s okay. But just know that you can eventually become thankful for the memories and the times you had, instead of swallowed up in indescribable pain at not having your child with you. It is possible.

From my personal experience, and many others who are on the same road, we have learned that finding even the tiniest things to be thankful for can start to make a huge difference on this journey. But it isn’t because someone told you that is what you should do. It is because you are ready to make a shift out of the darkness, and realize that this is one of those steps toward the light.

Are you already dreading the Christmas season? I invite you to join me each Sunday live during the advent season, to walk through this difficult time of year together, acknowledging Emmanuel, God with us, within the painful earthly loss of our children. To find out more about it, click here.

 

GPS Hope exists to walk with grieving parents through the suffocating darkness of child-loss to a place of hope, light and purpose.
 We also support families, friends and coworkers who want to know how to support these parents both short and long-term.

Expressions of Hope is written by author and speaker Laura Diehl. Laura is a national keynote speaker and also a workshop speaker for both The Compassionate Friends and Bereaved Parents USA national conferences. Laura has also been a guest on Open to Hope several times, and has hosted her own conferences, a virtual conference and many webinars. If you would like more information about Laura as a speaker for your next event, click here.

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Barbara Bush and the Day We All Look Forward to as Bereaved Parents

I was not aware until the passing of Barbara Bush that she and President George H. W. Bush had a daughter who died from leukemia at three years old, on October 11, 1953. That means First Lady, Barbara Bush, was one of us.

This was back when little was known about cancer. They were told to take their daughter, Pauline Robinson “Robin,” home to die and make her happy in those two-three weeks she had left to live. They didn’t. They fought, by taking her to a relative in New York who was a doctor at a leading cancer center when cancer was barely understood, where she lived for another seven months. They fought for her life when no hope was given.

We get it…

It was shortly after Robin’s death that Barbara’s hair started turning white, which she attributes to her daughter’s illness and death. She was only 28 when her daughter died. Barbara Bush was known for that white hair, but it came at a high price. We change when our child dies, not just emotionally, but it takes a toll on us physically.

We get it…

The death of our child leaves a gaping hole that cannot ever be filled. It is bound to affect one’s marriage. Fortunately, in Barbara’s case, their marriage became stronger as they leaned on each other instead of tearing each other apart in their pain. Whether it strengthens the marriage, or tears it apart, the death of our child can’t help but affect the love-of-our-life relationship that we do day-to-day life with.

We get it…

Barbara’s son, George Jr., (President George W. Bush) was instrumental in “saving her life” after Robin’s death. At seven years old, he wouldn’t go out and play with his friends, insisting his mom was lonely and needed him. Most of us who are blessed to have other children have the same testimony – our other children are what kept us barely going.

We get it…

It affected Barbara’s relationship with God. The death of her daughter ended up pulling her and George closer to Him, trusting in His Sovereignty, knowing this life is not the end and they would see Robin again. (President Bush was known to say he expects his daughter Robin to be the first face he sees in heaven.)  Some of us are angry with God, some of us feel betrayed. Some of us immediately draw our strength from Him, and some of us do so only after our anger gets us nowhere and we turn to Him in desperation. The death of our child can’t help but affect our relationship with God.

We get it…

Robin’s body was donated to cancer research before being buried. All of us want to know that the life of our child mattered and somehow affects other lives for the better. Some of us are able to connect in some way to a cause, based on how our child died. Others put scholarship funds in place, write books or start organizations. We give gifts or have something permanently placed in a public venue in our child’s name. We are determined that our child’s life and legacy will somehow live on.

We get it…

In a fairly recent interview, memories of Robin brought joy to Barbara, thinking about Robin’s chubby little arms around her neck. But in another interview, 64 years to the month after Robin’s death, there were fresh tears. After the first few years of suffocating darkness and painful grief (Barbara said she felt like her heart was breaking and she could cry forever), we can turn a corner and start to smile at the memories and the joy our child brought into our lives. But we will never be beyond shedding fresh tears for the deep pain of missing our child.

We get it…

Barbara will be buried next to her daughter, whose body was moved in 2000 to the burial plot on the George Bush Presidential Library Grounds. I have two plots picked out for Dave and myself as close to our daughter, Becca, as I can get. We want to be close to our children, in life or death, even if we know it is just their bodies, whether buried or ashes.

We get it…

Very few of us will be like Debbie Reynolds and join our child in death even before their memorial service. (And obviously, if you are reading this, you are not one of those very few.)

We have no idea how long we have until we are taken from this earth and join our child. But each day we are here brings us one day closer. And each day here is an opportunity to live in a way that honors the life of our precious child.

I don’t believe the saying, “Time heals all wounds.” First, our wounds will never be fully healed this side of heaven, and second, I believe it is what we do with our time that brings the needed healing to not just survive, but to thrive, like Barbara Bush did for 65 years without her precious daughter.

That should give each one of us hope that we can, too. Somehow, it can be done.

One year after Becca’s death, I was with a friend I only get to see once or twice a year at the most. She took me out for coffee and just let me share my heart and cry about Becca. One thing I shared with her is how horrible I felt that I was looking forward to going to heaven to see my daughter more than to see Jesus. Her response? “But, Laura, you’ve made a deposit!”

Robin Bush

Each one of us has made a deposit. And no matter what your political views, I think we can all rejoice with Barbara Bush, that after waiting for 65 years, she finally had the day we all look forward to as bereaved parents. She is now fully reunited with her child.

 

When our child dies, it takes a toll on us physically as well as emotionally. We would be happy to send you a list of thirty things you can do to help take gentle care of yourself, no matter where you are on this unwanted journey.


You and your email address are safe with us and will not be given out to anyone.

GPS Hope exists to walk with grieving parents through the suffocating darkness of child-loss to a place of hope, light and purpose.
We also support families, friends and coworkers who want to know how to support these parents both short and long-term.

If you are a bereaved parent, we encourage you to connect with us at  GPS Hope on Facebook.

If you are not a bereaved parent but want to support those who are, or want to follow us as we give hope to these precious parents, please connect with us at Friends of GPS Hope on Facebook.

Subscribe to Laura’s YouTube channel.

Expressions of Hope is written by author and speaker Laura Diehl. Laura is a national keynote speaker and also a workshop speaker for both The Compassionate Friends and Bereaved Parents USA national conferences. Laura has also been a guest on Open to Hope several times, and has hosted her own conferences, a virtual conference and many webinars. If you would like more information about Laura as a speaker for your next event, click here.

Much of the information in this article was taken from The Washington Post and Heavy.com news.

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