Yet again….

As I sit here contemplating another Mother’s Day to endure, I cannot help but think about the many thousands of other grieving mothers who are experiencing this Mother’s Day from the perspective of loss.

I remember the first Mother’s Day after my mother’s death in late 1988. I had just given birth to my daughter and it was my first Mother’s Day – but the absence of my mother clouded that day for me. I struggled to celebrate for myself. This was a critical milestone in my life having just had my daughter just two months after my mom passed away at the age of 48. I felt the loss of my mom like no other. I needed her during this time in my life more than any other.

As the years waned on, I began to enjoy Mother’s Day because I had this beautiful girl who loved making me gifts each year to celebrate Mother’s Day. She was God’s gift to me. Once she became ill and diagnosed with a chronic illness, I struggled to understand why her. Why me. In a more global perspective – just why?

As many of you know, in October 2006, my daughter, and only child, passed away at the age of 17. She was one month shy of her 18^th birthday and a senior in high school. So again, I found myself struggling to breathe and especially on holidays. The first holidays were the worst.

Mother’s Day will forever be the worst day of them all. Some of you who read this will, unfortunately, understand this. Some of you never will. If you have not experienced this much loss, you cannot know nor could you understand. This is the time we need to have our greatest support from family and friends. The struggle is so profound. No matter how many years pass, the pain is still there. It always will be.

What I’ve learned over the years is that grief makes people uncomfortable. Especially those not directly impacted. It’s so important to stand with your friend or family member to support them. If you are the griever reading this – please reach out to someone who understands and can validate your sorrow. It’s real. If you are a friend or family member – go be with that person. Understand they are hurting no matter how many years have passed since their loss.

The world stands still on this day for so many mothers. The memories of their babies, children, adult children – all flashing back to the day when they were still alive. At the end of each Mother’s Day they are reminded of their absence in their life and we must be there to support, hug, love on them. Even those of us who are walking the same journey.

Until next time,

M

Grief is a powerful emotion that happens when a loss occurs. It’s a demonstration of the love you felt for the person who left us too soon.

Many times I’ve looked all over for a book that would help me understand what was happening and how to deal with the flood of emotions that seemed to overtake my whole life.

I struggled to find support so began to write. I started a blog that is still active today. After much feedback and recommendations, I decided it was time to write a book. The type of book that was missing for me and that I could share with the world in hopes it would help someone.

It’s available through my publisher BookBaby, Amazon or my blog.

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

Thank you!

Mal

This topic hit me hard and in that moment I dropped what I was doing and wrote this post. These are my thoughts and feelings after losing my mom when I was 31 and pregnant. My father died a few years ago, and never really had a relationship with him for my entire 66 years. When we were in each other’s company (not very often), it was often strained and exhausting with the arguing and false statements he believed.

As a girl growing up, she needs her father. When a father is not there, for whatever reason, it leaves a sting that lasts forever. Always questioning “what did I do” or “why doesn’t he love us”. But when you are not wanted or wanted for all the wrong reasons – the fallout can be devastating. Everything I ever felt about myself was in conflict from my father’s leaving his children at a young age; and my mother’s consistent message that I could achieve anything I wanted. She was the wind beneath my wings. I thrived because of her and in spite of him.

When you live your life parent-less, there is a sense of un-belonging.

When you live your life parent-less, there is a sense of profound loss because you are no longer someone’s daughter.

When you live your life parent-less, unconditional love is gone.

When you live your life parent-less, there is a loneliness that cannot be filled.

When you live your life parent-less, a void exists that cannot be explained.

Thankfully, I’ve had wonderful people step into my life and provide “parental-type” love and guidance. But it is not the same as hearing your mom’s voice over the phone say “baby, I’m so proud of you”. As tears spill out my eyes, I’ve missed that so much. All I have is this one letter from her that I’ll cherish forever. She always believed in me, even when I wondered if I could ever fit in or succeed. Her faith is why I am who I am today.

Living parent-less in this world amongst those with parents is beyond hard. Especially when their parents are supportive and loving. Loss teaches you to be humble and grateful for what you had, but it doesn’t keep you from crying, hell weeping because the pain hits hard, especially around holidays. Even after all these years, it continues to be difficult for me to participate with a smile when the emptiness is clearly evident while you are in the midst of others who haven’t lost a parent(s). I put on a smile anyway and hide how I truly feel. Alone.

Until next time,

M

My mom

“One day you wake up and find your life is like a blank book with no characters and no words just you on every single blank page. It’s the same page after page after page. Blank, lifeless and meaningless. Then one day God reaches down and begins to place pictures and people and a story in your new book of life.” – Mal Moss

I wrote this in 2008, just two years after the unexpected death of my only child, my daughter Brittany. I’m fairly sure I was feeling I had lost my way, yet finding it necessary to move back into the lane of life. I felt I had no other choice but to figure it out.

Day by day I did. I worked very hard at starting over. It’s something I’d experienced a lot in my life, it wasn’t a new concept to me. But this type of starting over was very different. Not how I played it out in my head after having a daughter. Not after being so happy with the love I had for her. Where in the hell would that go now? All that love and light I exuded regularly, snuffed out in a moment.

Starting over was hard. I did it kicking and screaming the entire journey. Funny thing is I still do. I get uncomfortable when things get comfortable. Life has taught me that when things get comfortable and happy; things happen. Life dishes out a reminder that “oh wait” “it’s time to shake it up” Like a magician’s trick of removing a table cloth with dishes on top without upsetting or breaking a dish. But where it’s different is it didn’t go as planned; it didn’t go smoothly; in fact, it all broke into a million unrecognizable pieces. The life I once knew.

There is a tiny piece of me that feels a constant state of being unsettled. Grief does that. Anticipatory grief is real. And when you have had so much grief, loss and trauma in your life; well you learn to live with anticipatory grief. It might stay buried somewhere deep in your consciousness; but it is there. Waiting.

Back to my blank book. It is filled with so many good things now. People who are a part of my life now, who love me unconditionally and want the very best for me. I have a few long time friends who have stayed with me through thick and thin. My family who while at times tumultuous; has been there and supported me when I needed it. I know it wasn’t easy.

I keep adding new chapters to my book of life and I’ll keep trying to write a different story. But Brittany will always have that special chapter in my book. Always.

Until next time,

M

I’m sure many of you who have been on this grief journey for more than 20+ years have old videos, pictures and maybe perhaps audio of your loved ones. As I sat shuffling through old VHS tapes it dawned on me that time is of the essence to get them moved to digital.

I have tried in the past to do it myself. Even bought a VHS to DVD recorder, but those DVD’s won’t play on anything else but the same recorder. Frustrated, I left it be for years. I do mean years. But now I find myself determined to get this done. To find away to move these to a USB myself.

I don’t trust sending these precious memories off to a 3rd party to process. I fear the worst would happen and they’d be lost forever. Returning grief to a fresh and painful presence. So off to Google I went looking for a solution, which I believe I found.

But all of this got me thinking how fortunate people are today vs how we managed 20+ years ago. iPhones were not yet available, at least to me, nor my daughter. We both had flip phones which were archaic if one admits. Technology has advanced so much and fortunately we are the beneficiaries of such. The memories we can have at our fingertips is a blessing for sure.

Social media sites like Facebook and Instagram are full of family memories. Again, I feel fortunate to have videos and pictures of my daughter to look back on; but the quality isn’t as good as today. sadly there are no videos or recordings of my mom. Her voice sorely missed from my life. All I have is a letter she wrote to me telling me how proud she was of me. When I truly need an uplift – her letter is where I go.

I can’t help but think how fortunate we are today to have such wonderful tools to document our life; our families and their lives. Such a treasure to have for a lifetime to share with others. We are fortunate these days indeed. Treasure that.

Until next time,

M

I’ve been struggling to find the words to close out 2023. Another year of surviving unimaginable loss. Another year of continued questions as to why. Another year of no answers. Then I remember that I may never have the answers as to why. Why grief came to visit me and became my constant companion for most of my life.

Grief has many faces. It comes in the form of trauma; life altering changes; abuse; failure; loss; mistakes are all examples for me. I’ve read many self-help books and had years of therapy to process it all. I even wrote my own memoir about my grief journey in hopes to help others feel they are not alone.

One lesson I learned through this journey is that all of these moments in my life happened to me; not because of me or who I was. In some cases, the decisions people made impacted my life’s journey. And in other cases my own decisions took me down a path I wasn’t meant to walk.

At times, my self-confidence shaken, my belief system torn and my faith shredded. Yet I chose, yes, I chose to overcome it. To rise above and regain control of where my life was heading. I did not want to be the victim or survivor but rather a thriver. To show not only myself, but others that one can rise above their circumstances. To thrive.

I’ve learned that life can be hard. Sometimes it kicks you to the ground so hard you think you may never get back up. But you do. The world is a crazy place today. Most days I don’t even recognize what is happening in this country and around me. It seems we are taking such huge steps backwards.

People hide behind their computer or phone and become experts based on something they read on social media or some cult leader. They choose their behavior each and every day. It’s truly disheartening to watch the news or read social media anymore. I just don’t understand where this world is going and it scares me more than I care to say.

Those of us who have had trauma and/or seen people die, or loved ones die in our arms, we understand things a bit differently. Life is short. Precious. Not guaranteed. Yet there is so much hate. Destroyed relationships. Divided families. There is a better choice.

I choose to get up everyday with hope in my heart and a will to put one foot in front of the other because grief and loss forced me to take the road less traveled. One that honors the lives of the people who’ve gone too soon. To show people there is another way to demonstrate love. Refuse to hate. Show compassion and lift others up.

This particular year has been what I call the “planning” year. One where I made decisions on where my life will be going and how I will get there in the coming year or two. I am and always have been in control of my destiny. I may have not always realized it but I’m certain the flame, while just a little flicker at times, was buried deep within my soul and became my motivation to pursue many of my passions. That flame is burning brightly now. Ready to purse my next adventure.

Here’s to 2024. New adventures. New goals. More love. Less hate.

Until next time,

M

I’ve been struggling a little bit this season and not sure I can pinpoint it but I do know it’s multi-faceted. The beginning of what I call the “Grieving Season” starts in September and usually comes to a close after New Years.

September brings memories of my mom as her birthday and angel date fall within the same week. Unfortunately she passed away during a time when “camcorders” were a luxury and not common in most families. So I have no video or recordings of my mom. That brings me so much more sadness than I can ever share. I have a letter from her that I get out every now and again, especially when I need my mom, and as I finish reading it, I can almost hear her voice.

Her absence in my life has been profound. Don’t get me wrong, she taught me a lot during the 48 years she was on this earth. But during the most difficult days of my life she was gone. I was seven months pregnant with my first child Brittany when my mom passed away. I really needed my mama during that time. I was so sad. I walked about the world in a fog for years. Despite giving birth to my beautiful daughter Brittany, I was lost.

October brings memories of Brittany’s passing which was traumatic and changed me forever. Being her mom was the greatest gift I could have ever hoped for. She made me a better person. A better human. Watching her slowly slip away and then traumatically being resuscitated three times and having to stop it because the doctor said she wasn’t going to survive – no mother should ever have to do that. Because I was a nurse I somehow found a way to compartmentalized it. But when I look back I was protecting myself from the greatest pain of all.

I struggled for weeks, months and years emotionally, financially and physically. Grief took a huge chunk of my heart and stomped on it repeatedly until I was left with nothing. Just memories. Today I find I have to concentrate with my eyes closed to remember her. I am blessed to have videos and lots of photos; but not enough. Not nearly enough.

These days I spend time closing my eyes and trying to hear their voices, to visualize Brittany and my mom as they were when they were alive. As I get older, those memories are harder to visualize. Space and time have driven a wedge into the memories and I struggle now to easily bring a picture to mind or something they said without a prompt. Music usually is the connection I get that brings me back to my emotions and feelings of missing them.

Sometimes lyrics of a song resonates and brings back a memory and I am left in a puddle of tears. Like the song by Ed Sheeran: Dancing With My Eyes Closed – a few lines below says it all:

“Every song reminds me you’re gone, and I feel the lump form in my throat cause I’m here alone.

Just dancing with my eyes closed cause everywhere I look, I still see you and time is moving so slow and I don’t know what else that I can do. So I’ll keep dancin’ with my eyes closed.”

In the meantime, I’ll keep “dancing” living with my eyes closed when I need to spend time with them and hope they hear me wanting to “feel” them close by.

Until next time,

M

Credit: Songwriters: Max Martin / Ed Sheeran / Shellback / Fred Gibson
Eyes Closed lyrics © Promised Land Music Ltd

I was reminded today while going through some old journals and books on spirituality that I had forgotten a very important aspect of my continued journey on healing. The letting go of who I was. Letting go of who I had become. Letting go of what I thought I was to become. Letting go of the life I had come to know and love.

In order to find who I was to become I had to let go of who I had become. For they could not exist at the same time, in the same space, if I were to move forward. Saying that sounds strange, believing in it even stranger. For so long I lived for my daughter. I gave her every part of me. I had to. At least I felt I had to. I don’t know if it was guilt because she became ill at an early age and I wasn’t able to get her the help fast enough to avoid the neurological deficits that were to come. I had waited so long to have a child and so grateful to have a child, that I gave all of me to her. I lost my mother while pregnant with Brittany and maybe the unconscious me had been holding on for dear life trying to make sure I didn’t lose her. In the end I did. I lost everything.

In giving everything I had – I lost myself somewhere along the line. I forgot what it was like to just be me. I forgot me. I was living a life that I thought I was suppose to be living. Maybe I was – for that time. I finally came to realize I had to let that life go. If I’m being real here I can tell you that the thought of letting that life go and starting over was daunting to me. It took me to places you don’t want to know. But that was then and this is now.

Over time, I realized that it was time to become the person I was meant to be in this new life. It didn’t mean I was forgetting who I was or that I was forgetting my beautiful sweet Brittany – it just meant I had to say goodbye to the person I was and move into the person I was going to become.

It has been an adventure I can tell you. And those of you who knew me in the early months and years, knew to hold on – in the words of Betty Davis – “It’s gonna be a bumpy ride.” Those of you who didn’t know me or know me that well – you witnessed some incredible growth and energy; and, while challenging I understood time was of the essence.

Things had to shift. My faith in God has given me such strength to persevere and to keep going that I had to do something with it. I couldn’t hold onto the energy another minute. The expression of love and desire to help others is where I saw myself going. The feelings were so strong, I knew that my purpose in this new life was to be a resource for those coming into this unfortunate journey of loss and grief.

Writing my blog along the years and eventually writing my book Grief Blessings, was part of that shift into the next thing. Whatever it is I’m ready. I continue to be amazed at what God has in store for me in the future.

Until next time

M

As I sit here thinking about decorating for Christmas, yet again, without my girl and in my new life since she died; I’m left with mixed feelings. I love Christmas and all it stands for. The true meaning of Christmas, the magic of Christmas and the opportunity for giving that is brought to the surface during Christmas.

My memories of Christmas go far back into my childhood when we would get a real tree and decorate it with lights and handmade ornaments because we did not have much money being a single parent household of six children. We strung popcorn and crate paper chains for garland and made ornaments at school that we used each year. Finished off with the throwing of silver tinsel.

We’d have chili the night before and open opening presents and off to our great-grandparents house for a huge family gathering on Christmas morning. We gathered each Thanksgiving and Christmas at our great-grandparents for many years until many of us grew up, married and had our own families. I cherish those memories even today.

Those memories are so important because they represent a family that was so strong despite many adversities. Today we are spread out all over and celebrate the holidays with our new families. Traditions have probably lingered in some way. I still make chili on Christmas Eve. Even if it’s just the two of us.

Life with my daughter and the memories we built over the many years are some of the best that I have. Even when it was just the two of us; we decorated our tree together and went to Christmas Eve services at our church. I am so grateful to have video of my daughter a few years before her death opening gifts and being her usual comical self making us all laugh. It seems like a lifetime ago and as the tears fall in this moment; I’m so grateful.

My mom died from breast cancer two months before my daughter died and unfortunately I have no video of her. No recordings of her voice. Oh my heart aches for that memory as it continues to fade from my mind. I do have letters from her that demonstrated the love she had for me. She supported all of my endeavors to discover who I was and the person I wanted to be. She was my best friend.

Just before her death she was preparing to come and be at the birth of my daughter, her granddaughter from her daughter. She started a crocheted blanket which I found at her house after she died. I brought it back home and finished it. Oddly she was left handed and I right; made for some interesting stitches. I did bring Brittany home in that blanket and it was a special moment filled with sadness and joy.

I’m finding this holiday season more difficult yet sit in gratitude for all that God has bestowed upon me. One who has been through it more than once; I could see it much differently. I have at certain moments along this journey; but I know for sure I’m blessed to have these memories; to have had these moments with my mom and daughter. Some do not get that opportunity. I’ll leave that right here.

Until next time,

M

How many of you get this question?

I dreaded that question when I went back to work as a pre and post op nurse. After my daughter and only child passed away; those moments of nervous talk by my patients, which is totally understandable, hit different when I returned. The first time made me cry and I had to excuse myself. I went into the locker room and balled my eyes out. My boss told me to go home and try again the next day.

Overtime I began to figure out how to respond that didn’t bring pity or apologies. I did not want that for my patients or myself. I just did not want to talk about it.

As I think back, I remember the significance of my boss’ approach to bringing me back to work and how she went about it. I don’t think everyone understands how that made all the difference in my ability to come back into the world after loss and function. I will forever be grateful for her compassion and care.

I posted a video prior to posting this and got some good feedback from some of my followers on how they have addressed this question. I think most parents, respond similarly when asked the question “Do you have children?” Mostly that they have x number of children and 1 has been called home too soon. For those of us who lost our only child, I think it’s important to acknowledge their life on this earth. It’s was very hard for me in the beginning to do that. It was so painful. But as I grew in my grief maturity, I was able to say her name and explain she had passed away without losing my mind. Don’t get me wrong, that took a minute to get to that place in my grief.

Most people are very kind and say they are sorry. Some want to know more and some don’t speak of it again. As a mom, I try and remember I will always be her mother. I will always have a daughter. And I will never apologize for keeping her memory alive in me by speaking her name and talking about her.

Until next time,

M