Someone said to me recently, or maybe I read it somewhere, that “to those who count themselves blessed, more blessings will come.” When I look back on 2018, I would name that statement as the truth which defined my days. 2018 has not been without its own share of sadnesses. Yet, when I review the year, it is in fact the blessings that stand out.
Immediately after tragedy struck, I couldn’t hear it. It wasn’t time. But even hard things, through healing, bring blessing. The leaves take on brighter varied hues as they die than they ever did in life… and it may take a valley to see the beauty.
The truth is, I want to break up with you. In fact, it’s a little more intense than that: I’d like to stuff you into a box and send you deep into the ocean so no one else has to deal with you either. I’ve tried to find the best in you, to learn from you, to help others navigate relationships with you… but I’m just at my wits end right now. I’ve “had it up to here” with you.
One day, sitting across from my husband in an Italian restaurant, I noticed him fiddling with his ring. The little gold band circled around his finger as he turned it. “Why do you do that?” I asked him. “Because it’s comforting to remind myself that I’m married, to think about being your husband.” On August […]
Before their father died, he sang a song to them which his father had sung to him. Now that he’s gone, I sing to them with sweetly altered lyrics.
Grieving with children is a complicated thing. I want to be genuine with my young boys about sadness and the freedom to feel and express emotion, but I also want to keep unnecessary burdens off of their shoulders. I want to help them grieve in their own ways and in their own timing, but I also want them to be able to be just happy sometimes. My strategy for how to grieve with children is as young as those children and it grows and develops with them.