Category: grief journey

Twenty-Eight years ago I gave birth to what would be my only child. Seventeen year’s later just one month shy of her eighteenth birthday she returned to heaven.

On this day, November 30th I sit and wonder who she might have become. A fashion designer, a teacher, a poet, an artist. I can only dream of that now. I have some idea because I knew her passions and what she believed in. She believed in the basic right of a human being regardless of ethnicity or religion. She did not see color. We raised her that way. She championed those who were disabled. She would put herself out there in a public way just to make a stranger feel welcome. I should of known that would have been my daughter in her teen years because as a five year old she would stand at the end of our driveway and using her Fisher Price Sing-a-Long she would put in her favorite cassette tape “Lift Jesus Up” and would sing her heart out to anyone passing by. That was her true spirit. 

It wasn’t to be for her. God had other plans. Not sure I will ever understand that but I’ve handed that over to God a long time ago. Otherwise I’d have never survived her death. I have learned to live my life like I think she would have – full out enjoying life and not really caring what other people think. Just to be free to help others and to lift those up who can’t lift themselves up.

I have very big shoes to fill and when I feel down or sad, I know I get this gentle nudge from her saying “not now mom – there is work to do” “love your life and spread that love around”. That is what I hear her saying to me. It doesn’t help my loneliness for her, but it does give me the strength I need to keep marching forward. One foot in front of the other and when I get that tap on the shoulder or that whisper in my ear – I know she is guiding me to my next adventure.

I am blessed to have been her mother. And for that reason my pain is great. But the equalizer is love and when you have love in your life – it softens the blow of loss and it keeps me from sinking too far into the abyss called sorrow. I miss her more that any words on paper could describe but until I find a way to translate it – I’ll just keep blogging.

Until next time,

M

I think about my late daughter almost every day. Sometimes it is a fleeting memory and sometimes it is a story in my memory bank about something she did. Either way, she is in my thoughts daily. 10 years has not created the distance from my heart to hers. She lives in me every day and I would not want it any other way. The things I miss about her….

The incredible way she made people laugh

Her love of God 

Her steadfast belief that she could do ANYTHING

Her fun spirit that cheered me up on days when I did not want to be cheered up

Her hugs

Her voice

Her calling my name “mom”

Her resilient attitude to get up every day and face whatever came her way

Her singing in the shower

Her goofy look at things

Her dedication to uplifting people who were bullied

Her smile

Her love

Her

Until next 

M

My mom was my best friend. She molded me into the woman I am today. She believed in me, believed I could achieve anything I put my mind to. She was my cheerleader right up to the moment I sat on her death bed, seven months pregnant, and understanding that she was dying. Her hospice nurse said she could see the love and special connection I had with my mom which was vastly different from the estranged relationship I had with my dad. She had me come out of the room and told me I needed to tell her it was ok to die. I’m like how does someone tell their mom it’s ok to die. I was broken. Yet I did what she told me and within the hour – she was gone. Gone from my life forever. I almost went into labor at that moment.

When my daughter was born, i missed having my mom there. I never thought I’d go through the birth of my first and only child without my mom right by my side. From the birth, we had problem after problem. I needed my mom more than ever. I lived in a place far away from home. Little to no support rendered me helpless and I had to remember all the comfort and words my mom taught me about being stronger than your circumstance. I dealt with what seemed like a constant barrage of problems with Brittany’s health. She was born with a malformed hip socket and had to wear four diapers until she was four months old. Then we had to manage her colic which was exhausting. Many nights driving around in the car at 2 am in the morning trying to get her to sleep. Again I missed my mom’s advice and support. A girl just needs her mamma.

Then while in nursing school, my daughter was diagnosed with Epilepsy. That changed my world. Again I needed my mom, yet had only memories of supportive conversations we had over the years to overcome various hurdles. Over the next 12 years Brittany was diagnosed with even more devastating Epilepsy and Crohn’s disease. Again and again I missed my mom’s advice and love. In looking back, I’m not sure how I survived all that. Those years were the worst without my mom.

But the worst time of all was the 12 hours of torture while I watched my daughter’s decline after a life changing episode of Status Elipticus that caused complete organ failure. She died within 12 hours of being admitted. I needed my mom more than ever. How does a mother of a child who died work through this grief without her own mom – i am not sure. I was raised to be a strong woman. Thank God for that. I think sometimes my mom raised me the way she did to prepare me for what I would have to endure as an adult and parent.

A girl always needs her mamma. RIP Mom 9-16-88.

Until next time,

M

Last week was the 28th year angel anniversary of my mom’s death. I just can’t fathom that she has been gone that long. It seems so surreal to me that I’ve been through so much without her about as long as I have been with her. I was 31 when she died. I think that will be a milestone much like the one I experienced when I turned 48, the age she was when she died.

The sorrow just never goes away. It just sits in the shadows waiting for the right moment to express itself. Which is usually not the right moment. There really never is a “right moment to fall apart or cry or to just be sad. It’s never convenient to openly weep over the loss. Or to explain that the reason you’re having a bad day. But it is the burden we have. I don’t expense anyone to understand it. But I’d hope that at some point I don’t have to explain it or hide it.

Now i’m facing the dreaded angel date of my daughter’s passing – October 13, 2006. Wow 10 years since she left me. I just can’t even rationalize that timeframe. It just seems like  yesterday and then some days, i think because my life is so dramatically different, that it seems like a lifetime ago. I do feel like the gloomy times are coming and I feel a heavy pressure on my chest that tells me the time is coming. I don’t look forward to it but I’m glad when it’s over.

Weeping, grieving and downright suffering is never anything someone looks forward to. It shows up when it wants and it leaves when it wants. The only control I have is to hide it the best way I can – work. Stay busy and in the quiet darkness I cry out in my pain and ask God why. 10 years later I still ask why knowing I won’t get the answer. I still ask. The mother in me wants to know why my baby, why my daughter, why me. I miss her more than I could ever explain or share. Those of you who read this blog – you know. It’s not easy to live this life without your babies – but we do.

I miss my daughter and the life I had dreamed of. My journey wasn’t meant to be. Wrestling with that has been the hardest. Left with many questions, no answers and a very broken heart. My heart is still broken. It always will be. It has scared over and that place will never truly heal. Thankfully I have a life now where love grows in a new place and it helps soften the pain.

Until next time,

M

So I feel like I’m at this crossroad with my grief journey. I’ve been thinking a lot of about how I am doing today compared to where I was 6,7,8 or 9 years ago. When I was struggling to navigate my way through this horrific loss of my daughter. Within a few years after Brittany died I struggled to even look at anything of hers yet I’d spend hours longing for her while looking at her pictures on the wall. I would basically pine for her. I wanted to feel her hug again, I wanted to hear her voice again – her laugh. I wanted that so badly that I couldn’t see my way to the future without her.

Truly I did not want to go on. I struggled with eating, breathing and sleeping. Nothing made sense to me anymore. Everything I knew and felt was ripped from my heart and while a faithful person, I hung on to God’s word that I would see her again. For me that time couldn’t come soon enough.

Then life happened and I began to feel alive again. Surprisingly I began to feel moments of joy mixed with sadness. As time moved on the moments of joy began to overcome the moments of sadness. I began to allow people in my life again. I began to trust again that life could have some purpose.

So the crossroad today is that while trying to living a life that honors my daughter and hopefully help others, I am struggling with thinking about her. I avoid it now at all costs so I don’t have to feel that pain anymore. That pain that made it hard to breathe to sleep to eat isn’t something I want to feel anymore. Yet when I let it in, I begin to struggle with swallowing as my throat feels like it’s going to close up. Tears begin to well up in my eyes and my chest begins to hurt. I fight it with all of my might. I don’t want to feel it anymore. I’m tired of it.

I’ve grown very weary of grief. I’m tired of the struggle. It’s a full time job that I don’t want anymore. But the reality is I don’t have a choice. It happened to me. I can’t make it go away. No matter how hard I try, grief continues and pursues me with reckless abandon until I am slain with grief. I don’t like it. In fact, I hate it. It makes me angry still today. I’m tired of battling it.

I find with each phase of my journey I have to re-invent what my response is to the process. What used to work for me doesn’t work anymore. The problem is I had a lot of help getting to where I am today. Many authors and a few counselors and groups helped me mold my journey. I honestly did not think I needed that help anymore. I figured I knew it all. What I know to be true is the struggle with grief continues throughout our whole life and it comes in phases that will require work. That work will be different and may be different from what you’ve ever seen before.

I find that now I will need to do some difficult work to figure out where I go from here. What is it that I need to learn now? I’m not sure, but I need to do something and because I feel like my journey is at a crossroad that needs to mature into a different phase. I need to feed my soul with God’s word and of those authors who have gone before me and are still continuing to evolve their journey.

Those of us who have accepted this purpose have to continue our own internal work to evolve and grow into what our purpose is for this time in our lives. I don’t believe it is to stay the same but rather to evolve and grow as you do in your own life. I’m glad that I have been open to see that the change needs to happen and that I am willing to understand the gravity if I don’t. So hopefully in the coming weeks and months, the writing will become more clear and will offer some hope to some who are open to receive it.

until next time

M

I know that some days it’s hard to see the beauty that is in front of us

because the clouds of sorrow blind us to it.

But take a moment right now to stop take a deep breath and blow it out.

Take the time to breathe in life and breathe out sorrow. It can be done.

It takes practice, really a conscious effort, but with daily practice –

you will see with more clarity, feel with more depth

and live with more peace. – Mal Moss

I recall over the past 10 years since my Brittany left this world for her Heavenly home only just a few special messages or books that have made a significant impact on my journey. I’ve written about them often as I do believe those of us on this journey need a reminder often about where we need to focus in order to keep our eyes on where we are going and not to spend too much time on where we have been. Here is why that is so important.

Recently I listened to a podcast called “See The World Through the Eyes of a Lion” from Northpoint Ministries and the speaker was talking about looking through the lens of faith when it comes to our journey. By using our faith lens, we can see what the human eye cannot see or experience. Trials will come and if they haven’t already in your life, now is the time to prepare. And if like me, you have had a trial or many trials, then our focus is on what lies ahead not behind. The speaker stated “this life is just the pilgrimage” that we need learn with a spirit of expectation.

I know for me personally, that Brittany is where I’m going and my focus should be on the journey to where I’m going, not where I have been. For when my focus is what lies behind, I tumble. I free fall even at times forgetting my purpose, my journey, my expected future joining my beloved Brittany, my mom Judie and the many others who have passed into Heaven. What a day that will be.

He also talked about the “new normal” and I know that is not a term new to us grievers. But to look at your new normal for what ministry potential it carries. For me it has been sharing my journey. Even when it looked bleak and when I was in what I call the “dark times” where I couldn’t see past one hour of each day. God uses our pain for a purpose. It is an honor to be trusted with this pain. That was a difficult thing for me to hear because I am like why would God want to entrust me with pain. He went on to clarify that God entrusts those who will take that pain and turn it into purpose. To help others see the way through the hard times.

God used Brittany to open my eyes and to help others. This I know and understand to be true. But by no means does this reduce the magnitude of my grief. And it especially does not dismiss it. I continue to have have bad days. I have days when I just want to sit and weep for what has been lost. So much has been lost. Yet, God reminds me daily through various ways that my purpose is to be a light for those who cannot see their way through the dark days of grief. To offer hope when hope seems all but a glimmer.

We grievers must stick together like glue. To continue to support one another in our grief. To lift each other up to God in prayer for comfort. This I promise you, I will continue to pray for all of you that God will provide comfort. To give you peace and to those who are with you along your journey.

Until next time,

M

Funny how when the dynamics of a relationship changes you find new meaning and hope. When Brittany was younger she struggled with her diseases and began to have bouts of depression. It was usually fueled by some event that had happened at school where she was either bullied or she had a seizure in front of her classmates. We found that her depression was because she did not feel accepted by her peers at school. I think for many reasons she was different, I’d prefer the term “unique” but truly she was different.

She was as genuine as anybody could be at her age. She always saw the good in people, even when they mistreated her. Sometimes I struggled with that, but of course, there was a life lesson to be learned from her. She was a teacher and she did not even know it. The roles somewhat reversed as she was teaching me about humanity, love and following Jesus. The bullying did bother her, I don’t want to mislead anyone about that, but she always found a way to rise above it.  I think she truly hit her stride once she started high school. She evolved into this special, unique and quirky young woman that loved who she was. That did not happen over night. Brittany attended a very special camp over the summers throughout high-school until her death. Camp Oasis in Michigan for kids with Crohn’s and Colitis. It was a special place. A place where kids could be with other kids and feel “normal”. They learned many lessons over the many years but the one that profoundly changed my daughter’s life was that she learned that she was worthy. Worthy. Who would have thought a child did not feel worthy. I had some idea she wrestled with understanding why she had to go through these tough times. It was hard to watch sometimes as a parent, because you feel helpless and sometimes even hopeless.

But that camp was special. She met good friends, had good times and fell in love. It was the year between her junior and senior year and she was attending for the last time. She came home different. Very giddy so to speak and I came to know and learn about this special guy she fell for at camp. We met several times and I understood why she loved him. It was simple. He loved her. Many take that for granted, but she did not. This love changed her and in a good way.

When Brittany passed away during her senior year, this young man who loved my daughter, took it very hard. And we talked often about her death and why they were brought together even for a short time. I told him “you know why don’t you?” He’d say no and I’d say because it was her task to show him that HE was worthy of love. I think that resonated with him eventually. It took time. After ten years we still connect every now and again.

The lesson in all of this I hope to convey is that when you show kindness and offer love, people flourish. Even in the most difficult situations, people feel love and it is our task as human beings to extend love and kindness for there are many who do not know it. I imagine you come across people every day who are upon hard times or have suffered a loss of some type. Kindness and validation of the loss can be life changing. My daughter understood that. Now I understand that. I hope in some way my blog helps my readers to understand that. It’s the most valuable lesson I’ve ever learned. I learned it from my daughter. It was her greatest gift to me.

In these past few days since the mass shooting in Orlando the lesson in love and community couldn’t be more needed. I hope we take some time to share love, pray for the hurting and extend something we all have – time.

Until next time,

M

#grief #loss #tragedy #pray4orlando #onlychildloss

I have many followers and have chatted with many moms who have lost a child but the ones that hit my heart the most are those who have lost their only child. The future looks totally different to them. Like me, losing my only child, they find themselves having to reframe their life. Finding a way to navigate the murky waters of the life they did not dream for.

I don’t think many people understand the gravity of not only having your heartbroken, but literally having your life broken. The life you dreamed about and yearned for most of your life. That grief my friends is very different. It’s complicated. It’s dynamic. But most of all it’s lonely. 

When I find an article addressing the loss of an only child I resonate with that writer and find myself wondering about their blog or story to find common ground. I usually find it. There is a peace that comes with finding someone who knows your pain. Who has walked your walk and not just survived but thrived.

Rebuilding my life has not been easy. It’s taken a huge measure of faith, love and devotion by some of my closest friends to build a new life, one I did not dream for, but hoped for after Brittany’s death in 2006. I still have that special place that is broken and only hers to reside in, but I also have joy in a new place I would have never imagined.  

So if you find yourself in the unchartered waters of grief, surround yourself with people who love you and want to see you through what is and always will be the worst moment of your life. A strong support system is crucial to covering the scar of a broken heart. Love is absolutely vital to growing and cultivating the seed of love again for a grieving broken heart.

Let love in and let it begin to grow over that brokenness and create a place where love can grow again.

Until next time,

M

I follow a few blogs by parents who have lost a child and I’m always in awe of the raw emotion that is shared by these parents and how their stories help all of us. I see a wide variety of scenarios that occurred in these parents lives and sometimes I am struck by how my own story could have been a little different had I known my daughter was not going to live to see her 18^th birthday. What would I have done differently had I known.

I follow one particular dad who writes about his son Mitchell and their family’s journey of grief and knowing their son would eventually die from his disease. They had many opportunities to chronicle the everyday life of caring for their son and provided many experiences that eased his pain and I’m certain theirs. My story, my daughter Brittany’s story is different, but did it have to be. I don’t know. I perhaps was in denial that she could die from epilepsy. I knew life would not be “normal” like others but certainly I never thought she would die after having a seizure. I was wrong.

What would I have done differently? I would have taken more pictures of her. I would have hugged her more often. I would have captured our time together in a way that would have provided a story of her life in a way that I could have shared with you all. I would have tried harder – maybe if I knew….

That leads me to the next thought… We should live our lives as if we believed it would end any moment. We’d capture every day moments and make sure we chronicled the story to share with others. What I’m saying here is hug your kids often, spend more time with them, take pictures and videos of the good times and maybe the not so good times. Journal together about their childhood and teenage years. Teach them that they are the most important thing in your life.

What would I have done differently? I would have danced in the rain with her. I would have gone to Costa Rica with her on her mission trip. I would have allowed her to swing higher and laugh so hard our stomachs would hurt –well we really did that. I am so glad I do have some video and pictures of her. But I crave more. I want more. I long for more.

Don’t wait until it’s too late to make amends with your kids, your loved ones. Make more time to smell, touch, feel life. Write about it. Tuck it away so one day, you can tell them the stories of their childhood from the books and videos you took. Most of all spend time just being with them. Even when they are driving you crazy. I miss those times the most.

I did a lot of wonderful things over the years with my daughter, but it will never be enough to last my lifetime of missing her.

Until next time,

M