Author: Grief Blessings

Trying to discover why I'm here and where I'm going. Finding out that today is all we have - tomorrow is not guaranteed. So live like today

Grief in the Moments of Special Occasions.

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There is a particular sorrow that gathers around the special occasions a child should have lived to see. It rises at graduations, at weddings, at the imagined sound of little grandchildren calling their name. These moments do not simply mark what has been lost in the past; they reveal what has been taken from the future. For bereaved parents, grief is not only missing the child who was, but also mourning the life that would have unfolded around them. Many, like myself, have written a great deal about type of grief and is commonly discussed in grief counseling sessions/groups.

A graduation may come and bring with it the sharp awareness of the empty seat, the absent photograph, the name that is never called. A wedding can carry a similar ache, not only because a beloved child is missing from the gathering, but because the heart cannot help but picture what their own celebration might have been. Grief at these times can feel especially disorienting because the world expects joy, while the bereaved parent is carrying both love and devastation at once. Guidance on grief and milestones often notes that these dates can intensify memory, anticipation, and the sense of absence, even many years after the loss. 

My daughter died at the beginning of her senior year. Once May arrived, the anguish that ensued was at times traumatic. Her school provided time during graduation to have friends speak about her and presented us with an honorary diploma. It left me with a sense of sadness at what could have been, that has never left me.

Perhaps one of the loneliest aspects of child loss is grieving what will never be fully known: the partner they might have loved, the home they might have made, the grandchildren they might have held. These are invisible losses, but they are no less real. They live in the imagination, in family gatherings, in passing years, and in every tender wondering of “what would have been.” Bereaved-parent organizations often speak of child loss as a lifelong grief because the love remains, and because new milestones continue to arrive carrying fresh reminders of what could have been

Yet even in these painful moments, love continues to shine through. To miss these occasions so deeply is to testify to the lasting place a child holds in a parent’s heart. The grief may change shape over time, but it does not mean the child is forgotten; it means they are still loved into every season, every celebration, and every silence. Special occasions can become places where sorrow and remembrance meet, and where a parent quietly honors the child who should still be here.

Until next time,

Mal

Grief Long Term

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Grieving has been described differently by many. The rules of the road vary for everyone. Grief is unique that way. But one thing I think can resonate with everyone and that is “grief is long term”. There is no “short term” grieving. It’s a lifelong arduous journey that navigates us to places within our hearts, minds and souls that we could have not imagined. 

My grief is so very different than it was 15, 10, 5 years ago. It is more “chronic” if you will. It doesn’t feel any different from day to day. Some days I do struggle more than others. I have recognized through the many years that while keeping grief at arm’s length, I do have to regularly let it in and “manage” it. 

What I know for sure is that you DO have to manage it. Otherwise, it will manifest itself in other ways – health, relationships and most of all your own mental health. We tend to think it is much easier to just avoid it. But the long-term impact is that the emotions and stress of loss will continue to lurk behind the scenes of your life until one day you come face-to-face with it. Grief smacks you upside the head and says “yeah, I’m still here”.

As I approach the 20th year of my daughter’s passing, I’ve had to reevaluate how I manage my grief. You see, grief is fluid and it changes over time. In the past, I tended to avoid it at all costs. And did so for many years. It was my idea of survival. It had seemed as if everyone around me had moved on with their lives. And while I was faced with moving on as well, it was different for me. The dreams shattered of what I had hoped for my daughter and myself. The plans we made as mother and daughter were no longer valid. 

Now I have regular grief sessions where I spend time in prayer, reading and writing. What I have found is that the depth of grief is not has profound. It’s manageable. But if I skip over it or ignore it, the pain and sorrow become overwhelming. 

A mother’s loss is so profound, I can not even put it into words. The death of an only child even more profound. There is NO escape from it. This reality haunts me every single day – whether is shows or not. 

This is what long term grief looks like for me. 

How about you?

Until Next Time,

M

#grief #griefjourney #griefsupport #griefblogger #griefawareness #childloss #griefblessings

https://store.bookbaby.com/book/grief-blessings

Turning the Page

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I haven’t written in a few months, which is unlike me, but we have been through it these past few months. Hell, we’ve been through it during 2024 and 2025. We are ready to turn the page and start 2026 with a grateful but tired heart.

In April 2025 we finally finished the repairs on our house thanks to Hurricane Milton. It was a constant battle to keep the project moving forward and when it didn’t it seemed as though we were trudging uphill through mud. We, like many others found our savings depleted along with our mental and physical health. 2024 and 2025 took a measurable toll on us.

One of the last unimaginable moments came to us just before Christmas as our dear Mimi fell ill. We had just stepped off the plane from a NYC trip and quickly turned to the hospital where she’d been transferred to be admitted into a cardiac unit.

As the week unfolded it became increasingly clear she would not walk out of the hospital. You see, as a nurse and a granddaughter, I’d seen this before. The body succumbing to the late stages of congestive heart failure (CHF). My grandmother died from a long battle with CHF in 1995 while I was at her bedside. Watching her struggle to breathe was the hardest thing outside of my mother dying five years earlier.

Just days into the new year, she passed away peacefully during a short stay in hospice care. Mimi was like my own grandmother in so many ways; and I loved her so much. Being an orphaned daughter/granddaughter, Mimi’s love for me was so needed and appreciated. Her hugs were the absolute best. We had a kinship and bond because we both had lost children. She knew the pain I carried and never really needed to talk about it. But those hugs were the best balm for my heart over the years. For the last 15 years, she called me every year on my birthday to sing happy birthday and then giggle and say goodbye. She wasn’t much of a talker on the phone, but boy could she write a letter. She was a great pen pal over the many years.

She was a faithful woman and cherished her family. She lived a great life of 90 years and raised an amazing family, for which I’m grateful to be a part of.  She will be missed greatly by this family and many friends.  

Fly High Mimi

Until Next Time,

M

Today is her angel day.

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I usually spend my daughter’s death day in quiet reflection and self-care. It has been the best way, for me, to manage the washboard of grief that comes near my daughter’s death day and birthday. I take a deep heavy sigh after the days pass as if it is another milestone achieved. Never celebratory, but making it through yet another date on the calendar that reminds me of a past life where I lived as a mother and this present life that is vastly different. The two often collide this time of year. 

There is a struggle that happens as September comes and while I’ve been at this grief journey for many years, I find there are just some things I don’t want to think about or write about anymore. The pain is too deep and wounds still raw with pain and anguish. Facing this loss year after year can be just too much to bear. As I write this, tears spill from my eyes because I still cannot believe she was taken from me. The questions of why her, why me, may never be answered. But yet I ask.

I hide this as best I can because the vulnerability of it can take a toll on not only me, but the person experiencing it with me. It is the loneliest journey one can be on. It’s a lifetime of flashbacks, of pain and sorrow. It is a wound that never truly heals. This time each year, it’s like the wound opens up and the pain so severe it takes my breath away.

I know hiding is not the answer because the pain and sorrow comes out in my behavior. I withdrawal and become unsociable. I hide behind the pain so no one else can see it. Only those close to me see through it. How can it not? My only child died.

Nothing will ever change that.

Until next time,

Mal

The Essence of Her

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My mother has been gone for 37 years and while I miss her so very much; I’m not the 31 year old pregnant mother that I was when she died. Today, at 68, I grieve the concept of not having a mother in my life. A mother to help me through the darkest times of my life. To laugh with me. To hug me when I need a hug only a mother can give. I have never really looked at it this way, but in retrospect, it makes total sense. 

My mom was always so very supportive. She never offered advice unless it was solicited and then she did not hold back. She would always end it with “I may not agree with you, but it is ultimately your decision and one you’ll have to live with”. That one always got me. I feel lucky to have had 31 years with her.

I have a letter she wrote me while I was living in Dallas trying to find my build my career in advertising and marketing. She wasn’t fond of me living alone in the “big city”, but supported me all the way. In that letter, her encouragement of me was written in love and trust. She knew she’d raised me to make the right decisions. And while I did not always, I understood the consequences and was prepared to make things right.

Sometimes, when I look in the mirror, I see her and occasionally, that image has stopped me in my tracks. It is in those moments, that I truly miss her and the essence of her. A girl never outgrows needing her mother’s love.

Until Next Time,

M

Grief is Complicated

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“The powerful surge of sorrow and grief, and the magnitude of the empty space that resides in my heart and in my life since Brittany died, is real. It’s not some story that happened to me. Every October 13th, I am reminded my journey is far from over. Some days it feels like I just started this journey yesterday, and other days it seems like a lifetime ago.” – Mal Moss, Grief Blessings, The Story of Unimaginable Grief and Unexpected Blessings

I’ve struggled of late to find the words or the will to write. I’ve given it a lot of thought and the quote from my book “Grief Blessings” above captures the essence of my grief journey. I’ve only had a few times since I began to write where I couldn’t find the energy to write. Words usually come easily to me. Even as I sit here writing this, my mind just wanders and the distractions around me are so loud. 

This morning while riding my bike it occurred to me that I’ve been “retired” from my nursing career for almost a year. From the time Brittany died, I worked. I worked extra hours/shifts. I stayed busy. It was an avoidance behavior that kept my grief in check. The pain from the incredible sorrow my heart felt was just too much to bare. The work was exhausting leaving me without energy to battle the grief. Years went by. 

I accepted any type of job change that would increase my career because I wanted to feel valued. I needed to find a place for the motherly love and care spent on my child for nearly 18 years. Work became that for me. I moved from Michigan, Indiana, Atlanta and finally Florida because change kept me busy. Now life “fast forward” has slowed down since retirement and I am struggling to feel valued. Alone with these new feelings of being inadequate at life. Sitting here wondering how it happened. It happened because I pushed it away by working. I avoided grief like the plague. And now in retirement, grief is ever present but different.

I’ve never had a problem with being alone (by myself). Feeling lonely, is altogether different. I’ve never felt so lonely on this journey as I do right now. I really don’t have someone to talk with who would understand. Therapy over the years has helped but this I’m afraid is something I’m going to have to battle out on my own. In hindsight, retiring may have been a mistake. My work friends, many were closer to my age, made me laugh and created a space for me to sit in that didn’t sound or feel like grief. Now I’m facing it straight on, alone. 

Because I’ve moved so much over the years, I really don’t have close friends that live nearby, especially closer to my age. I’ve heard that making friends as you get older can be hard and I couldn’t agree more. It’s been very hard. I’ve always been a young soul who didn’t have much in common with those my own age. Now don’t get me wrong, I love and adore the people in my life now. They make me laugh and make life tolerable on days when I’m not at my best. They simply don’t have the life experiences I’ve had and talking about those experiences and how to manage them is something I need. I need to hear from people who’ve walked through the fire.

Retirement has complicated my grief.  The multitude of feelings that come from retiring from a successful career, like: getting older, recognizing my own mortality and seeking to find value, have also complicated my grief journey. The sum totality of loss has evolved into a new grief. It feels like the two worlds have collided and finding a way to talk about those feelings sits at the top of my list. I’ve never been one to “chat” in grief support groups because I always felt like I had a handle on things. But the unfortunate truth is, I do not. It’s hard to look at yourself and come to the realization that you don’t have it all together. You don’t have all the answers. That is new to me. 

Until next time

M

A Mother’s Poem

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Written By Mal Moss (2007)

Where has my girl gone?

For once she was in her room,

laughing on the phone, and

now she is gone.

Where has my girl gone?

For once she was dancing and singing,

loving and laughing at me,

now she is gone.

Where has my girl gone?

For she once needed me,

to fix her hair, pick out her clothes

Show her the way, now she is gone.

Where has my girl gone?

The one that I cared for

24-7, 365 days, 17-3/4 years.

The one who cared so much,

for others, but got so little in return.

Now she is gone.

Where has my girl gone?

Who showed us how to love,

unconditional without barriers.

Who wished to be normal, like

her friends, to be loved.

Now she is gone.

Where has my girl gone?

You see my friends,

she is in the arms of God,

Where she needs to be, she

deserves to be, where she

no longer is subject to the

cruelties of this world.

@griefblessings

Dreams Extinguished

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When a child dies so too does a parent’s dreams of what could have been. The dreams they had for their child. Dreams of success, dreams of weddings, dreams of grandchildren, dreams of a long-term relationship filled with great memories.

When Brittany died, I mourned so much more than her death. I mourned all the dreams that were not meant to be. That part of my mourning journey has taken the longest to work through and I find the most heartbreaking. I don’t think I’ll ever get through this part of the journey. Each time I see something on social media or in person about a mom and daughter’s relationship. Some event that occurred or a shared success, I fold into a mess.

The feeling that comes over me feels like a heart breaking all over again. I know some of you who follow my blog understand this all too well. We all had these dreams for our child(ren) and we live in a world where we constantly are exposed to friends, family or stranger scenarios where we dreamt one day we’d be. I continue to revisit this topic because it is the one area that I don’t believe will ever be resolved.

I’ll be honest here – this desire for my child died twice for me. When my daughter become deathly ill at 11 months of age, and the diagnosis and long journey back to health was the first of many dreams shattered and that life would not be normal for her again. A new normal began that day and those dreams had to be adjusted. As the years went on, it seemed that the dreams went through continual adjustment based on what was her long-term prognosis.

Always believing that she could still live somewhat of a normal life, however what surrounded us was what we understood could not be.

Death brought it all to an end. With the stopping of her heartbeat so did the dreams. A part of my life’s dreams died too. A part of my heart ripped to shreds.

Eighteen years have passed and those dreams still remain in my heart because the pain and memories I feel continues to haunt me. Painful reminders surround me of what I lost and what she could have been.

While I have reconciled her death; I remain steadfast that she would have been an amazing adult, mother and friend. That makes me smile.

 

Until next time,

M

Getting Quite

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I was reading a chapter in Savannah Guthrie’s book “Mostly What God Does” where she discusses how one might miss hearing God’s voice. I feel like it’s always there, but sometimes the noise in our lives makes it hard to hear. After reading this chapter of her book, I thought to myself, that is so very true. If you think about the daily tugs and pulls for our thoughts, time and activities like scrolling endlessly for hours, can be hard to hear our own internal voice, let alone God’s voice.

One day soon after my daughter passed away and grief was consuming me I cried out to God. To take it all away. I pleaded. Yet the questioning, longing for answers remained for months. I continued  burying myself and my grief through my work. I took care of others, so that I could avoid taking care of myself.

I struggled so often with “why” and if my daughter was ok. Was she in heaven. Then I had several dreams. Brittany came to me 2-3 times over a period of a couple of years and to tell me she was ok. That it was all going to be ok. I now recognize that was God speaking to me in a way that I would listen. He heard my crying out and through my daughter, he responded. Or did he….

Savannah goes on in chapter 8 to talk about how can we determine if it’s our own internal voice or the voice of God. She explained it wasn’t easy for her and that resonated with me. I don’t think it’s an easy discernment but rather a quiet moment when all the noise has given way to the quiet voice of God coming through. Those moments don’t seem to happen often because we are so very busy doing life.

The Cleveland Clinic defines meditation as a practice that involves focusing or clearing of your mind using a combination of mental and physical techniques.

I thought in my retirement and through my writing, that would lead to getting more quiet. To have more time to focus on meditation and clarity. Yet, I don’t do it often enough. Not sure if it’s because I’m afraid of what thoughts may come to mind and if I’ll understand them or even like them.

What I do understand from my own personal experience and from reading Savannah’s book, is that an intimate relationship in the quiet may be what we all need to hear God’s voice or message. Perhaps it was God who heard my cries and spoke to me through dreams of my daughter. I’d like to think so.

On my next post, I’ll share a presentation I did many years ago on medication and key tips on getting quiet so that you can free your mind of the constant noise of life.

Until next time,

M

https://my.clevelandclinic.org/health/articles/17906-meditation

Mostly What God Does by Savannah Guthrie is in most bookstores and online