traumatic grief Archives

July 14, 2019 by Laura Diehl 6 Comments

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.

June 2, 2019 by Laura Diehl Leave a Comment

Year One, Year Two, Year Three and Beyond

Any loss takes time to process and work through. The loss of a loved one can take weeks, months, and years. The loss of a child takes a lifetime.

Grief has its own individual path for each person. We may often hear the words, “There is no right or wrong way to grieve,” and yet much of society shouts the exact opposite to those who are in deep mourning.

We are asked when we are going to “get over it,” or are told we need to let our child go and start moving forward. This can make us angry and add to the painful confusion, making one wonder, “What’s wrong with me, that I am taking so long to be able to function again?” So, we put on a mask, to keep people around us from knowing what a mess we still are, months and even years later.

What most people don’t realize, is that most experts consider the death of one’s child traumatic grief, and that up to five years can be considered “fresh” grief. And as grieving parents, we need to know this; that it’s okay if you are still barely functioning or are unable to go out and “have fun” with friends, or attend painful family events that your child should have been part of, years after the loss.

You may be interested to know that as I started hearing from other bereaved parents in the first couple of years of my journey, I discovered there does seem to be an underlying generic time-frame that many of us pareavors sort of fall into.

The first year is a painful fog, full of numbness, confusion, pain, and disbelief. All the “firsts” hit us hard. The first time he or she is not with us for each holiday or yearly family event, the first year they are not here for their birthday and of course, the first anniversary of their death.

I thought the second year would be easier, because I had already gone through everything once. As pareavors just starting out on this horrific journey, we don’t think it is even possible, but the second year of being without our child is usually worse than the first year. I hope that is not the case for you, but I want to be up front and honest that it is a strong possibility.

Why does that happen to so many of us?

Well, for me personally, that first year I braced myself for all the “firsts,” plus I was still in that fog of trying to figure out if this had really happened. The second year caught me off guard as the fog began to lift. Round two of all those yearly events no longer had the blessing of numbness to block the full depth of the pain. When that initial shock finally wore off, it caused the weight of my loss to hit me full force, with a heaviness and darkness that left me wondering if I would ever get through it. I remember thinking how desperately I wanted the pain to end, afraid that it never would.

The third year for many of us becomes more livable. We are starting to accept the finality and painful fact that our child will never again be with us at any of these events. We are starting to resign ourselves to the fact that no matter how much it hurts, we must figure out who we are without our child. Some of us even begin to see glimmers of hope; that we can still have joy and happiness in the life we are living with those who are still here whom we love, and who love us.

After saying all of that, I also want to emphasize that we are all on our own individual journey.

Unfortunately, there many parents who are stuck in the second-year level. They take many more years to get to the place of painful acceptance, which is necessary to be able to start building their new normal in a way that brings peace, joy, love and laughter back into their lives. For instance, I personally know someone who waited over four years before they could even bring themselves to have a tombstone made for their child’s grave.

Let me say it again, because it is so important. NO ONE is on the same timetable of grieving the death of their child.

Do not look at any dates to see where others were emotionally in our grieving process and use it as some sort of a timeline to force on yourself. We are all on our own individual timeline and need to go through the process at our own speed. Yes, there are some “patterns” (for lack of a better word) that some of us seem to fall into, but don’t expect yourself to fit into that. Give yourself grace to walk your own necessary path. As long as you are putting one foot in front of the other, you will get there. (When Tragedy Strikes.)

How close you were (or weren’t), how he or she died, their age at death and so many other things all play a factor in how you grieve and how long it takes to be able to function again, much less actually learn how to live with your child being “amputated” from you.

Even within this three to five year “acceptance” range, we are all different, including those of us who are “early” or “late.” Here are what a few others have to say about their journey and this “three year” timeline:

Four years later, I still struggle with these feelings, but not on a daily basis.
I just passed anniversary number 5. For me, year 1 -I hardly remember anything, mainly a fog. Year 2 (for me) was worse. The numbness was gone. It was real. It was crushing. I survived day-to-day. Year 3 -I started feeling some joy again. Able to go a few days without crying. Year 4 – still painful, but more like a slap than a body-slam.
At first, I experienced waves of grief that crashed over me throwing me prostrate to the floor in agony. After 3-4 years it was mostly a gentle longing with times of intense pain and feelings of loss.
I honestly couldn’t tell you anything about the first 2 years. Year 3 things began to get a little better. Lord knows I still cry every day. Year 4 I smiled again. Real smiles not forced ones. And just over the past few months I have finally begun to feel happiness.
Year 2 is worse. But I am intentionally seeking Joy and now I’m halfway through the second year. I think I can see Joy every now and then although it is still a ways ahead of me yet.
Sadly, the only way to ‘get past this’ is to go through it!! I am broken now in a place that will never heal. But I do find that I can laugh more than I used to, but I define my life ‘before my son died’ and ‘after he died.’ The trick is to wake up every day and try to have a plan and a purpose.

In other words, whether you fit the “pattern” or not, you are in a normal place with your grief, and the right one for you.

Year one, year two, year three, year five, year ten, year twenty, the rest of this lifetime… and then comes our glorious reunion. And the best part? Each day we remain here on this earth doesn’t mean we are getting further away from our children, but that we are one day closer!

We all need to have our children’s lives acknowledged. On our weekly podcast, we love to share with our listeners the birthdays of our children. To have your child’s special and important day announced on the podcast the week of their birthday, fill out and submit the simple form below so that we have the needed information. (This will also allow us to send you our encouraging Weekly Word of Hope, which you can unsubscribe from at any time if you don’t find it helpful.)

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.

Check out the Grieving Parents Sharing Hope weekly podcast
If you are a bereaved parent, we encourage you to connect with us 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.