Bereaved Parents Awareness Month

July is Bereaved Parents Awareness Month. I wish I had no reason to be a member of that club. I have certainly learned a lot about grief, grieving the loss of a child, funerals, family, and so much more. Things I wish I didn’t know.

We are blessed with so many family and friends who have walked along this path with us. Even so, it’s a solitary journey. One’s grief is unique.

Throughout this walk in the valley, we have been touched by sweet words and perplexed by others (although well meaning)!

There are simply times in this life when people don’t know what to say, how to act, or what to do.

I’ve been there myself. I’ve been the ONE saying the wrong thing. I’ve been the ONE WHO DID NOTHING FOR LACK OF KNOWING WHAT TO DO. The ONE who did the exact opposite of what I should have done. That’s me. Guilty as charged. Head hanging low.

That’s why I write this little note to you. I hope maybe it will help you in some small way.

Grieving parents are overwhelmed. The loss (no matter the age of the child) is devastating. The loss of a child is not the natural order of things, and it’s like ocean waves washing over you time and again. You.Can.Not.Catch.Your.Breath. Given this truth, they can’t tell you what they need because they don’t know.

We were helped so much by people who just showed up and did what needed to be done. They didn’t ask us – they just took over. They cleaned, brought things we might need, organized meals, took care of the other children and grandchildren. Stuart’s dear friend wrote the obituary (which I thought I would write, but he just did it, and it was perfect)!

There are no perfect words – You simply can’t fix this.

“I’m so sorry for your loss” works better than a diatribe of vocabulary the family won’t be able to comprehend. Well-meaning family and friends will say, ” He’s in a better place.”  I just wanted him here with me. They might say, ” At least you have so many memories of him.” I want to make new memories. “Just be thankful for the time you did have with him.” I am, but I want more – he’s my CHILD. The list goes on.

We love to hear stories about our son from other people. We call them Stuart stories. When our friends recall funny things or his friends write, call or text with memories – oh, we love it. Sometimes we cry, many times we laugh, most of the time it’s a mixture of both. It warms our hearts to know that others remember and think of him often.  To parents, that is a very big thing. Don’t forget my child. Don’t stop speaking his name. It’s not like you will “remind me” of his death by talking about him – believe me I remember his life and I remember his death. Say his name! When we hear about lives, he touched or changed – what a gift.

For us (grieving parents), life didn’t move on in the same way yours did. Don’t forget to love on us long after the funeral is over, the headstone ordered, and the empty space in our hearts settles in for always. The first year was unbelievably difficult. There was a weariness, an agony, that seeped into our bones and deep into the marrow. It was all consuming. The second year (which we are in now), has been harder in so many ways. The reality sets in that this is forever.

He didn’t just miss Thanksgiving, Christmas, all the family birthdays and events as we tried to convince ourselves – no, he will never be there again. There will be no new pictures, no new memories, no more silly Stuart-isms. The world moved on without him. That, my friend, is a hard reality.

The meals stop, the calls stop; the comfort stops. The pain – never. So for you, sweet reader, don’t forget to hug, to text, call, or visit. Mostly, don’t forget to be compassionate, forgiving, and patient. I have needed and received all of those from so many.

If you say, you’re going to pray – PRAY. Grieving parents need people to stand in the gap for them.

Please don’t turn into another aisle at the grocery store when you see a grieving parent. It happens to me – guess what?

I saw you. I know you ran. I even know why you ran.

You don’t know what to say.

If you can’t offer a hug or a simple “I’m so sorry,” then just come say hello. We need our friends. Grieving parents are struggling to get through another day without their child; we don’t want to lose our friends too. It is a very common problem – “friends” who walk away because they can’t handle someone else’s grief. If you must go, then go. If you can stay and be a true friend, you will be a blessing, and I believe you will also be blessed.

There will be good days (moments), and there will be bad days (moments)! There will be times when it can change on a dime. Patience! We need patience. Patience. Lots of it. Grace. Mercy. Forgiveness.

My mind has been pretty foggy since that awful day. I am thankful for so many people who overlook my forgetfulness, my inability to make decisions and commitments. The numerous times I tell the same stories repeatedly.

There is a terrible truth you may not know:  death is expensive.

Funerals, caskets, obituaries, memorials, headstones, death certificates, gravesites, medical bills… You get the idea.

If you have the financial resources, consider gifting the family with funds to help offset some of these.

Never tell a bereaved parent that you know how they feel. We had a few people tell us about the loss of their pets, grandparents, a friend of a friend of a friend. Really – Unless you are a bereaved parent, you have NO IDEA how we feel. NONE. Not even a little bit. My husband and I have lost parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, friends and ahem – pets. Trust me – there is no comparison. We loved and grieved all of the ones we have lost, but our child – Nothing can prepare you for that.

I wrote this post early in July, and I am just now posting it. It occurred to me as I was preparing the post that many parents have become bereaved parents since this month has started- since I originally wrote these words. My heart hurts for the magnitude of their loss. There are no words!